Three people filed past the guard who had recently been posted to the library and began to work their way through the decorated corridors and out of the temple.

“I do wish you’d let me stay and help with the scroll,” Maquille complained again.

“We� ve been through this,” Damian sighed. “You can come back once we’ve reported to the captain.”

“But we don’t even know where he is.”

“And we all need to help search for him.”

Maquille glanced longingly behind him. He knew that Damian was right, but there was so much waiting to be learned back there.

When they reached the main entrance room of the temple, a voice called over to them, “Friends! A word if you please.”

Gerome, holding his fingers to his cheek, whispered over Damian’s shoulder, “She is no friend of mine.”

The Woodlands singer they had seen in Coldwick was waiting near the entrance, waving them over and Damian led the others towards her. “How can we help you, miss?” he asked, performing a slight bow.

Gerome was staring coldly at the young lady, but she ignored him. “I am looking for someone to escort me to my residence.”

“I am afraid we are otherwise engaged at present,” Damian replied, disappointment present in his voice.

“I think you will find it worth your efforts.”

Damian considered, unable to understand what she was trying to say. The rhetoric of the higher classes had always confused him. “We would be glad to,” Maquille preempted him. There were a few occasions when Damian was glad that the mage had his back.

“My name is Marian, by the way,” the lady said.

Marian lit a lantern before exiting the temple and leading the three through the darkened town. Damian kept a weary eye on the street scum who littered every corner and alley. They watched like vultures as the group passed by, but the threat posed by the big soldier seemed to keep them at bay. Damian also kept an eye on Gerome, who was staring at Marian. He didn’t need a second guess to know what was going through the man’s mind.

Marian led them to a manor in the wealthy part of the town. The guards opened the gate to let them in and they followed the lady passed manicured gardens and then through the house. Inside, most of the rooms were spacious and tastefully decorated, but the room Marian led them to was small and bare, except for four stools. “Wait here.”

Damian looked at Maquille, but the mage seem unconcerned and so Damian relaxed. He took a seat, then cast a questioning gaze at Maquille. The mage didn’t take the hint, so Damian resigned himself to waiting impatiently. He didn’t have long to wait.

“I trust the chase was successful?” Denas asked as he burst into the room.

Damian looked up, pleasantly surprised. “Yes. We have returned the scroll to Adeliad and he is busy trying to decipher it. Do you mind telling me what all this is about, captain?”

“Excellent,” Denas smiled. “Unfortunately, after the incident with the horses, the commander has seen it fit to declare me a felon. I dare say the man may even put a bounty on my head if I am not found soon. Enough of that though. What do you have to report?”

“An interesting tale, captain. We caught up with the thief shortly after sunset. Turned out it had been a gnoll, like the ones we encountered in the cave.”

“Had been?”

“Had been. It had run into an orc and was quite dead when we arrived on the scene. The orc gave us the scroll, together with a warning. An undead army marches on Mallowford.”

“I do believe he was speaking the truth, captain,” Maquille added. “We should tell the commander.”

“The commander is overconfident,” Denas complained. “He has never fought a battle in his life, but thinks he knows how to. However, we are not without options. Before Coldwick was established, Mallowford was a frontier town. It has defences.”