Once in the Western Wing of the Castle, Tristan started his patrol, wondering through the halls, lost in thought. He couldn’t believe his luck when the Captain of the Knights informed Sir Tristan of his orders. He wasn’t lying he had thought he would be order to patrol the Northern Wing.

  That wing of the castle was the closest to the worst part of the village. There was not a night where the military and the knights had to work together to stop a fight or put a fire. Usually, the Houses who get put in the Northern Wing of the castle were the newer houses to the Round Table or the type of Houses that hadn’t gain favor of the Ruling Family, but the captain had placed him in the one area of the Castle Tina could be in, considering her family name she was using was Armstrong, a vessel house of the Ancient and Noble House of White Hall.

  That woman occupied his thoughts since he had met her. There was a glint in her eyes informed him she was different from the other women he knew, even though there was something holding her back like an new pain she was learning to live with and adjust to.

  His thoughts drifted back to the Fawn Village, where he was able to watch her fight. She had skills, but they appeared to be rusty. He had seen it with many of the married knights who returned to Court after a long winter and they spent majority of the few weeks brushing up on their skills on the training field before they went out questing.

  Tristan approached the stairs, leading up to the second floor of the Western Wing. He glanced out of the widow. He caught sight of the Ruling Family arriving down at the docks with the Military spreading out on either side of the street mixing with the knights, and the Generals with their seconds standing several dozen feet behind the Ruling Family as they pulled to a stop and slowly got out of the carriages. Tristan frowned.

  There had to been a miscommunication in the ranks. He thought the Military had to secure the docks, not the Knights from the way it looked like. If there was a miscommunication within the ranks, it had to be coming from within the Knights. He knew there was several knights who didn’t want the military to have any more power then already did and preferred to be the only warriors within the castle and the village. Immediately, one knight came to mind. Tristan glared at the window in response.

  Sir Ronald Walburn. He was the second in command of the King’s Guard and often known to not pass on orders or forget to inform the correct parties about a change in orders. Tristan had seen him do this personally. In fact, Tristan had been a victim of Ronald’s scheming, once and it nearly resulted in getting thrown in the stocks for a day. However, thanks to Lancelot who was a witness to encounters stepped forward and explained the situation, Tristan managed to avoid getting thrown in the stocks while Ronald got put on leave, by the order of King Uther.

  The Violent Knight wondered how Ronald would try to gain favor with the new King. Rumor had it that Arthur couldn’t pull the Holy Sword out and wouldn’t be able to carry on as the next King. It meant a break in the line of Drake family. Whoever managed to withdraw the Holy Sword would have to deal with the Warrior Queen’s planning and Ronald’s ass kissing. Tristan half pitied the new King as a result. Maybe the new King would do something about them.

  Tristan took a breath, shaking his head, clearing his thoughts of Sir Ronald and the Warrior Queen. He moved on, wondering through the hallways of the second floor, slowly making his way to the third floor. He spotted a maid, coming from the stair well of the third floor.

  “Excuse me, miss,” Tristan addressed the maid, hurrying over to her. She was a pretty thing with dark brown hair that was done up into a bun high on her head. Her black eyes darted over to him, glittering with surprise and something else that he barely recognized, fear, before it was gone.

  “Yes, Sir Knight,” She said softly, glancing up at him before she dropped her eyes.

  “Has there been any new arrivals to this section of the Castle,” Tristan asked as kindly as he could. This maid appeared to be a new one. He could have sworn that he had seen her before, in another town, closer to the borders of the kingdom with Mercy. He internally frowned. There were a huge influx of new hires for the Butler and Maid staffing as a result of the funereal.

  “There has been several new arrival, sir knight,” she replied, shyly. She kept her eyes down. He narrowed his eyes, staring at her.

  “Alright,” He said, simply, “Thank you for your help, Miss.” He walked away and started to climb the stairs at the end of the hallway. He turned away, watching the maid with a suspicious eye.

  Most of the maids, Butlers, and other types of servants knew who he was and addressed him as Sir Tristan, not Sir Knight. He stood there, with his arms crossed over his chest, watching as she hurried away in a rush movement like she was trying not to be caught by someone. He heard the soft brush of footsteps over the carpet coming from behind him.

  “Is there a problem, Sir Tristan,” Sebastian’s voice rang out from behind him.

  Tristan debated on asking if there had been any new maids he had recently that lived on the border with the Mercy Kingdom, but he changed his mind. The head of the Butlers and Maids probably hired a lot of people to help man the castle as a result of the King’s death. He turned around and addressed the Head of the Butlers and Maids, “No, there is not a problem, Sebastian.”

  Tristan climbed the stairs to the third floor before he turned to Sebastian, asking, “Is there anyone new in the White Hall Wing? I’m looking for a woman with red hair. She could be mistaken as General Genesis’ sister.”

  “Do you mean Valentina of House Armstrong,” Sebastian asked with a note in his voice.

  “Yes,” Tristan allowed a smile to crossed his face, “I traveled with her a couple days and she was injured under my watch. I have been trying to track her down to make sure she was doing alright and check up on her.”

  “What kind of injury did she sustain?” Sebastian cocked his head to the side. His eyes glittered with worry, for some reason.

  “She was the victim of a flogging, thanks to some non-humans who caught her and myself the other day,” Tristan explained, “The flogging shredded her back.”

  Sebastian’s eyes widened with horror. He nodded, understanding. He answered Tristan’s question, “She is in the Armstrong Family Suit, on the White Hall House Wing. I will be assigning a maid to her this morning and will be sending a healer up, immediately.”

  “Thank you, Sebastian,” Tristan allowed his shoulders to relaxed. Tina was safe in her family hall. He knew if the ninja had tried to capture her now, Genesis would be able to handle that situation as the acting head of the White Hall House since it was his grandmother who ordered the kidnapping of Tina. The fiery general was probably the only one who could stop the ninja with in the halls of the Castle. He turned on his heel when a thought accord to him. The General was down at the dock, leaving her unprotected.

  Tristan turned back around and went to the White Hall Wing. It didn’t take him long to find the correct door with the symbol of a curled arm. He paused as he debated on entering or not. He knew most of the familial suite had a common room where they greeted visitors. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted it.

  He stepped into the common room of the Armstrong Suite. He peered around. There was closed doors. He rolled his eyes. He forgotten about some of the families desires to closed unused rooms as well as the used rooms. He sighed. He shut the door behind him and went to the closet door. He creaked it open and peered inside to see an empty unused room. He shut the door and repeated the process again with the next door. He got the same result.

  He approached the third door and opened it to see a familiar hiking bag sitting by the wall, just inside the room. His eyes flickered over the carpet to see a black cloak pooled on the floor nearby the foot of the bed. He spotted a blue dress spread out on the carpet beside the bed. He stepped into the room and saw Tina’s red hair spread out like a halo behind her head. He heard a soft snore. He allowed a small smile to cross his lips as he saw she laid on her belly, leaving her back exposed to the air.

  She was safe and despite the inflamed lashes on her back, she was slowly healing. He hoped the healer would be able to help her with those lashes. He backed out of the room. He would have to swing by a few more times before his shifted ended to check on her.

  Watching the ship slowly pulling the port, Salazar reflected. He was not an vengeful man, despite his long years. There have been times where he could easily got his revenge on a number of creatures, ranging those pointed eared Elven to the underground hidden cities of dwarves, to the holy then thou Fae, and the simple, but numerous humans, just to name a few. He knew there was going to be much more he wished he could lash out against the ones who wronged him. However, there were few organizations still around in this world that had the ability to cause him to rage, silently and one of these organizations was the Church of Christ.

  At first, the Church Of Christ was not a major issue to him. He was there, when their Christ was hoisted up onto the Cross and watched as the man died with his followers and family around him. That was one of the most powerful moments he had ever watched, to this day.

  His foster father had took him and his younger brother to watch the entire event, commenting in snide tones about the justice of it all. His foster father had been the son of the first Man and Woman to walked out of the Garden of Eden, Cain, and performed the first murder before becoming cursed to an eternal life, watching his loved ones pass on without him. He had thought he had been alone until Lilith appeared and explained some of the hidden history to him.

  Salazar’s lips twitched, fondly, as he thought of his foster aunt. She was a force to be reckon with, even though she had went into the vampiric sleep, nearly five centuries, claiming she was bored with this life and maybe after sleeping for few centuries, life could be entertaining again.

  The Church of Christ had painted her in a foul way. According to his aunt, Lilith was supposed have been the first woman, Adam’s counterpart, and his first wife. When she had tried to bypass Adam to approach God and have a personal relationship with him, Adam had disapproved and complained to God about it before she was reached her end, called out God’s name, and was tossed out of the Garden of Eden, eventually becoming Cursed and the first of their race. When Cain had murdered Abel in cold blood, Adam had casted him aside and forced him to wonder through the wildness. Thanks to Lilith, Cain had became the Second member of their blood thirsty race.

  His crimson eyes flashed as the Pope’s ship let the anchor loose. His sensitive ears heard the splash as the anchor hit the water and disappeared into the depths below. He sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t need to, but the old action helped control his rage. He had repetitively over the years, sent in a petition to the Head of the Church to change the story of his foster aunt, giving the same account each time he did so, of what she told him what had happened. Even their Holy Bible had a few passages to support the evidence of what happened to her, but eventually, those passages were edited out of the current version and he had to watched as Lilith faded into the hidden history of the World.

  Perhaps, he could petition in person to the Pope about Lilith’s story and see what he could do to change the historical records. He wanted to make his aunt wasn’t lost to history. Hopefully, his mind added silently. He was aware that even the Church had their sort of politics they dealt with and he didn’t know how much the current Pope, whatever his name was now, may not live through the next few years then the process would start all over again.

  It would be entertaining for him to stick around Camelot to see the Catholic Church reacted to his presences. The Paladins would try to kill him. It might be an interesting fight. He knew it would hard fight for the Paladin since they had been sending their Holy Warriors after him and his kind for centuries as his kind got stronger with magical powers, thanks to their ability to attend the magical school called Blackthorn Academy.

  He hummed. Maybe he should swing by the school and see how the vampire population was doing. He knew there would be a new bunch of magical vampires, this year. He might be have to remind who was still in charge. He frowned. It wasn’t a bad idea. He might even drag the Princess with him and drop her off with the Blood Mage Master to help her get her thirst under control and increase her power.

  He walked away from the window and went to the door. He opened the door to the hallway. He needed to feed. He was going to take the Magi up on their offer of taking care of some of the prisoners. He smirked as he hopped lightly and transformed into a bat. General Genesis watched as the gang plank extended from the side of the ship and heard the bottom of the plank slammed against the dock. He noticed Bartholomew stepped forward, causing the three general to stand in an arrow formation. It was already agreed upon that Bartholomew would act as the Head General between the three of them. Heavy foot falls echoed through the empty streets. His eyes flickered to the ship, watching as the Paladins, he assumed, disembark, first.

  The Paladins, Genesis knew, was the Fist of the Church led by the High Lord Paladin Peter because if they were sent out, it was the last resort of the Church and the Paladins were known not to take any prisoners.

  Their uniform consisted of a white long tunic, extending to their knees, over a full suit of chain mail. The only color that appear on their tunic was a large red cross. A belt strapped around their waist to keep the tunic from blowing out. From the stories that Genesis was aware of, the Paladins were known to travel the country side, protecting various travelers who could pay for their protection, and always kept an eye out on who they could recruit to their cause. A faint memory rose from the depths of his mind as he watched the Paladins form up on the wooden board leading up to the docks and spread out, filling in the various spots left open by the Camelot forces.

  It was an old story he was once told by his mom before she had left, informing him that Paladins were known by another name, once upon a time, and they did the same thing the Paladins were known for. It was something to do with temples. Besides that, he didn’t know much of the Fist of the Church. However, it didn’t stop the random story being told in the tavern when a traveler or a bard had too much to drink about the Paladins’ fighting capabilities. If the stories were to be believed, they prayed to God before each fight and gained some increased strength and endurance, destroying their enemies quickly.

  A man dressed similar to the Paladins already left the ship stormed down the gang plank. Genesis knew who it was. High Lord Paladin Peter. He resisted the urge to gulp. High Lord Paladin Peter didn’t wear a helm like the rest of his men did, leaving his features unmasked. His dark gaze ran over the Welcoming Group. His black hair gleamed in the morning sun. He stopped at the end of the dock and turned, facing the wooden board. His presences was powerful. Genesis could feel the Lord Paladin was someone he didn’t want to tick off.

  More foot steps rang out. Genesis’ gaze darted up to see more men slowly disembarking from the ship. This group of men wore robes of different colors. Genesis frowned, thinking. He had been under the impression the brown robes he had seen the Brothers of the Holy Light of God wore were the only colors being used by the brotherhood. Apparently not. He would have to brush up on his knowledge on what color meant.

  He knew majority of the men held the title of Brother and they were considered Monks, but other then that, he knew these men were the peaceful portion of the Church. Two men disembarked after the Monks had gathered at the end of the docks. One of the two men was ancient, dressed in white.

  Genesis knew immediately the man in white was Pope Innocent, Father of the Church. It meant the other man dressed in red and black was High Lord Bishop John. High Lord Bishop John didn’t hold the same notoriety of his warrior counterpart, but there were stories of his purification of demons of both kinds, vampires, and other types of unfavorable by the Church through a contest of wills. It didn’t mean High Lord Bishop John was unskilled at fighting. From the General’s understanding, the Bishop just prefer not to physically fight, but there had been plenty of stories where a contest of wills was not enough and ended up, using physical force.

  Before he became the Lord Bishop, Lord John did travel the lands, spreading the Word of God and converted hundreds to the Church. The High Lord Bishop didn’t move far from the Pope’s side as they walked along the wooden board until they reached the solid docks. Lord Peter fell into step on Pope Innocent’s left. The trio walked toward the welcome party.

  Genesis stood a bit taller. He took note the rest of the military men did the same. They all knew the stories involving both the Paladin Lord and the Bishop Lord. Both were dangerous in their own right. Genesis just hoped none of his men caused trouble for the Church because he didn’t know what kind of punishment he would be ordered to deliver out. From the past orders, he was able to read when he was promoted to his current rank and the stories that came from Rome, these punishments could be consider cruel for a normal man to go through, but common for a warrior monk, or a brother of the Church to undertake as a way to have a sin forgiven by the Father.

  Father Innocent, everyone knew, was the Chosen man who would be the voice of God. He had the power to forgive sins and to excommunicate someone from the Church. It was rare for someone to be excommunicated from the Church. It did happened. The last time Genesis was aware of it happened was a few centuries ago when the former King of Mercy tried to have a marriage annulled, citing the lack of a male heir and the Pope at the time denied the annulment.

  The King argued against the decision and decided to make his own church where he could get his marriage annulled. The Pope excommunicated him for that and sent a group of Paladins and Bishops to work against the King’s new Church, citing if anyone would follow the King, they would sentenced to damnation in the lowest pits of Hell.

  Genesis thought about some of the events that happened during that time. According to his tutor, a few non-humans were worked up into a frenzy before going rampage on the Mercian villages. Other sources Genesis was able to read and get his hands on suggested that the order of Paladins and Bishops might have been behind the frenzy of the non-humans. However, any such reports were sealed away in Rome. He doubted those reports would see the light of day again.

  The red headed General turned his attention externally as The three men, representing the three branches of the Church reached the High Queen. Genesis held his breath as he felt sorry for his queen. These three men were powerful in their own right.

  Kalliope fought to keep her face natural, but welcoming as the Pope and his top two men approached her. Her stomach rolled with nerves. She couldn’t believe she was going to meet some of the most powerful men on the island. She hoped her crown was on straight. She briefly wondered about how she looked overall. Was her dress apparent for this occasion? It was too late, now, she reasoned with herself. Her eyes flickered to the old man in white. She focused on what was happening in front of her as the Pope stopped and she pushed away her feelings, taking a deep breath before she bowed her head in greeting. Her heart thundered in her chest.

  “Father Innocent,” Kalliope said calmly, letting the deep breath out with her words, “Thank you for coming. I hope your trip was uneventful.”

  “It was, my daughter-Queen,” Innocent replied with a small smile, “Thank you for welcoming us, during your dark hour. This is High Lord Bishop John,” he gestured to the man on his right. “And this is High Lord Paladin Peter.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet to both of you,” Kalliope nodded at them. “I am Kalliope, of House Drake, former of House Rose, First of my name, the Current High Crowned Queen of the Camelot Kingdom. Welcome. Please,” she turned her attention back to the Pope and waved at her open carriage, “I am sure you would like to break your fast and rest for the day.”

  “Yes, I would like that,” Innocent replied. He stepped toward the carriage with Kalliope leading the way. They reached the carriage and the Pope stated, “You first, my lady.”

  The royal footman held a hand toward Kalliope. She grabbed the offer hand as she fists her skirts and lifted it up high enough where she could step onto the carriage step without her skirts getting in the way. She climbed into the carriages and settled into the seat closest to the driver. Her back faced the driver. She adjusted her skirts as the Pope was also helped into the carriages.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Kalliope heard Morgana’s voice rang out, addressing High Lord Bishop John, “Lord Bishop, would you please give myself and Lord Battle Mage Merlin the honor of traveling with us?”

  High Lord Bishop John turned and nodded his response at Lady Morgana. The High Queen saw the General of Fiery Blades stepped forward, addressing High Lord Paladin Peter before Lord Jack climbed into the carriage and stood. Kalliope watched as the rest of the welcoming party climbed into their carriages, noticing Belladonna’s glare settle on her before the warrior queen was pulled into a conversation with the Current Lord of House Black. She might have to sent a fruit basket to him, later. He, so far, had been keeping his Aunt busy as he possible could and out of her hair where she could act like the High Queen she was.

  Jack waited another moment as the party settled into the carriages before he called out in a strong tone, “Move out!” He sat down beside Kalliope as the Carriage jerked forward and rolled toward the castle.

  It was a few moments before Kalliope decided to break the silence, asking, “How was your trip, Father?”

  “It was pleasant enough,” Father Innocent replied, giving her a grandfatherly smile. “It was nice to get out of Rome. I do believe it could be my last trip before God calls me home.”

  Kalliope blinked and studied the Pope. He had to be close to his 80’s, possible older. His head was covered by his hat. She couldn’t tell if he still had hair or not. However, his face had lots of wrinkles, telling the story of his long life. She used diplomacy when she next spoke, “I’m sorry to hear that, Father, but I am glad you decided to make Camelot your last trip.”

  Father Innocent smiled, “I’m not sorry if God decides to call me home soon. I have lived a long good life, doing his will.” He reached over and patted her knee, gently, “It has been many years since I last visited Camelot. Tell me, how are things, spiritually?”

  Kalliope glanced over her shoulder toward the Black carriage. It was far enough away where Belladonna weren’t hear anything she had to say. She glanced at Sir Jack. He caught her eye and nodded, silently, telling her he wouldn’t breath a word of what was said in the carriage.

  “I must insist this stay between us, Father,” The High Queen spoke, “And that topic is best to be said behind closed doors. We are out in the open where a spy could run off and inform their master of the words being spoken here.”

  The Pope raised his snow white eyebrows in surprise before he asked, “You think there is a spy, listening in on our conversation?”

  “There are certain members of the Court who will pay good coin for any word spoken in this carriage, today,” Kalliope admitted, “I have seen such coin exchanges between Courtiers and Servants during my time as High Queen.” She paused. She glanced around, seeing the crowd gathered on either side of the road, watching them as they passed. “I have learned the hard way to keep certain conversations private as well as interactions.”

  Father Innocent hummed, thinking.

  “However,” Kalliope went on, “I can tell you, spiritually, Camelot is ill and is in need guidance of ALL faiths.”

  He nodded his head, understanding what she meant. The conversation they needed to have won’t be an easy one. The High Queen already knew that Belladonna would try to worm her way into the private conversation and argued against the unity of all religions in the Kingdom.

  “Perhaps, I can come to the Royal Wing, my dear,” Father Innocent suggested, “Tonight after dinner and we can talk, privately.”

  “I think it would be best,” she nodded, “I do need some spiritually guidance on what to do on several issues. Particularly, what to do if the New Chosen King already has a wife and kids.” She rested a hand on her belly, thinking. She wished her love would try to pull the Holy Sword out. If he was Chosen, it would settle any issue of the child in her womb since she would be allow to marry him. It would also help make his rule legitimate for the lower classes and hopefully, quite down any thoughts of rebellion. She let out a sigh. Father Innocent watched her for a long moment and nodded his head.

  “Thank you for riding with us, Lord Bishop,” Morgana immediately started as the carriage started to roll the way they had come, “How was your journey?”

  “You are welcome, Lady Morgana,” the highest ranking Bishop replied, “as for the journey, it was pleasant enough.” He sighed, “I’m just glad I’m back on solid ground.”

  Morgana resisted the urge to giggle. She knew some people couldn’t get their sea legs no matter how long they traveled by the water ways. The High Lord Bishop noticed her reaction and sent her a small glare. She gave him an innocent look. “Let’s cut to the heart of the matter, Morgana, Merlin,” John started, “How are things here in Camelot?”

  “In which way?” Merlin answered with a question of his own. His eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “You know what way I speak of,” John shot back, turning a death glare onto the half fae. “Bloody fairy!”

  The two magi snickered. Morgana commented, “I think that was a record, dearest Merlin.”

  “I think so,” Merlin sent her a wink, “It took us less then a minute to get him to say that.”

  John let out a long sigh before he commented, “I forgot how irritating you two were when you put your mind to it.” Merlin and Morgana laughed at that and John went on, “How are you two, personally?”

  “We have been good,” Morgana spoke, “Given the increasing limitations to our powers over the years.” The Bishop gave her a startled look. “Queen Belladonna has been trying to push her agenda against magical people through the younger Queens and her family members.”

  “I was under the impression she couldn’t do something like that,” John stated.

  “Normally, you are right,” Merlin agreed, “But Belladonna has worked the system into her favor. She has organized a couple marriages for the younger queens. Of Course, she has straight out sent them away from the Castle, once their Kings’ died. We have seen her discussing various plans with King Uther while he was still alive when it came to the non-humans and other magical people.”

  “There have been laws passed,” Morgana picked up, “Allowing us to take on students, but the catch is they have to get approved by the Camelot Court. The few that did come forward,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “Something had happened to them and we never saw them again, alive.”

  “We did found their bodies,” Merlin said, taking over. Morgana was thankful for that. She had been looking forward to taking on a student again and teaching them everything she knew. “We still don’t know who killed them - if it was a hit or an accident. The bodies were too far gone for us to figure that out.”

  The Lord Bishop nodded in understanding. He bowed his head and crossed himself. Morgana’s sensitive hearing picked up him saying a soft prayer. It was a long moment before the Bishop spoke, “Besides the obviously wrongs, how is the spiritual nature of the Kingdom?”

  Morgana answered, “Not good. I have noticed less and less people have been going to the other spiritual locations around the villages. From some of the conversations I have over heard on Sunday mornings with a few religious leaders, there have been a decrease of attendance and a few of the religious centers have been requesting aid from the Ruling Family. Belladonna has made sure the non-Christian locations surfer the most, thanks to pushing her agenda through the Chosen King. When Uther fell ill, three months, none of the requests for aid has been answered.”

  John let out a hum of understanding. “Whoever you place as the representative of the Church will have their work cut for them, many of the other spiritual leaders are refusing to work the Church, thanks to Belladonna’s actions,” Morgana went on, “As right now, there is no Chosen King.”

  “Really?” John’s eyebrows went up, “Has the Prince tried to pull the Holy Sword out, yet?” the Magi nodded. “And he was found unworthy?” The Magi nodded, again. “Hmm. This is bad.” The carriage rolled over the bumpy road. “Which of the knights has tried?”

  “None so far,” Merlin replied, “I am planning to start testing the Knights over the course of today. Hopefully, we will be able to find the Chosen King among them. If not, I will be opening it up to the public the day after tomorrow.” The Battle Mage let out a sigh. “Either way, we need to find the Chosen King soon before our enemies start amassing against us.”

  “How are the Queens’ taking this?” John asked, looking between them.

  Morgana shifted on the bench across from the visiting Bishop and started, “Vivien isn’t getting any younger. This morning, she had trouble moving around.”

  “So, that’s why Arthur is with her and not with Kalliope,” Merlin commented.

  The black mage nodded. “She may surprise us, but I doubt she will last through the end of the year. Meanwhile, Belladonna is still a pain in the ass - pardon my language. She acts like she is still the Crowd High Queen and tries to over rides Kalliope. Hopefully, the next King will put her in her place or at least get her to stop in some how. I know from my various walks in the village, the poor class is hurting more and more everyday while the people of the middle class are barely making it. It is the worst in the Northern Distances.”

  She took a breath before she continued on, looking to her left where she knew the Northern Distances lay, “If there is any non-humans still in Camelot over the last few decades, they were already captured and turned in for the coin the Ruling Family had promised them or turned to more drastic measures like using illusionary potions. There have been a few cases that managed to flee. However, just before Uther fell ill, one of the Lord turned in a Tiefling Couple and kept their children as slaves.”

  She fell silent at that. She took measures to make sure those children were as safe as she could make them without raising suspicion. She found her voice again, “We have to wait until the Holy Sword makes its choice and allow the new King to settle in before we can approach him about the backlog of the Court Requests.”

  “God will find a way to help those children and their parents,” John said, “No matter who they worship or how they were created.” The magi nodded in agreement. “What about the other Queens?”

  “Queen Belladonna has still been pain in the ass since she was forced to step aside for her son’s queen, Susan,” Merlin started, “She has been trying to work back room deals with several members of the Court to pass certain laws for the Non-humans and it has been working. However, King Charles passed away, a year later, his brother, Edward was found worthy and Marie stepped up to be High Queen.”

  “Susan, on the other hand, hung around the castle for a few months with her daughter, but they eventually moved back to Susan’s family estate where she met someone and got remarried,” Morgana took over. She didn’t know if she should mention Isabelle’s condition to the Bishop, considering his reputation with the non-humans. She heard John grunt as they went over a bump.

  Merlin took over the conversation, “Marie was a beloved Queen, despite the being a high strung Baileys Lady.” The two magi let out soft laughs at the antics they remembered seeing.

  “I remember some of the acts she did while she was the High Queen,” Bishop John allowed a smile, “It would have been nice to see what she could have done in the remaining three years of the rule if her husband didn’t die from the hunting accident.”

  Morgana frowned, thinking. Merlin’s voice drifted to the background as she thought about the hunting accident. She always thought it was strange that the Hunting group faced down the large wolf and not the boar they originally went after. She remembered talking with a few Knights upon their return. The conversation was on the tip of her tongue. She might have to review her journals from that time period. There had been something strange. She hummed.

  “Lady Morgana.” Morgana blinked, coming back to the present. She glanced between Bishop John and Merlin. She raised her eyebrows. Bishop John asked, “Are you alright, my lady?”

  “Yes,” she gave them a small smile, “I was thinking about something.” She paused as her gaze trailed over the bishop’s shoulder to the other Queen’s carriages. “It’s about King Edward’s death. It seemed strange for him to go after the wolf instead of a boar.”

  Merlin hummed. His eyes glazed over as he thought back before he spoke, “It could be something we could look into when we have time.”

  “Yeah, we might have to,” Morgana agreed, “Anyway, which Queen were you two talking while I was off in la-la land?”

  “What about Clarine,” the bishop asked, his gaze darting between them. She noticed there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

  “She is taking Uther’s death the hardest,” Morgana commented, “I have heard her crying in her rooms when I head to mine, in the Queen’s Tower.”

  “I have to question a few things I have heard and seen personally,” Merlin said. Morgana turned her head to stare at him with a questioning expression. “I will speak more about it once I get to the bottom of it, but it does involve Clarine.”

  The She Mage frowned, but nodded. She knew her former master had his own reasons why he would keep a secret about a queen from her until he could gather all of the facts about what was going on. John glanced between them, allowing them to figure things out between them before he voiced, “Hopefully, once you will include me if I am still here, Merlin.”

  “I will, John,” Merlin promised as the Carriage rolled through the archway of the Western Entrance to the Courtyard.

  “It seems you two will be busy over the next few days,” John commented as he lend back on the bench. “I think I will be busy as well. I might want to talk to the local church leaders as well as the other religious leaders after the funeral.”

  “Maybe the three of us could meet us later on this upcoming week,” Morgana suggested, “Wednesday before the evening mass?” the Carriage came to a stop. She scouted to the edge of the bench. She looked between them.

  “Let’s aim for that,” Merlin agreed, “It will give me enough time to look through my notes and reach out to a few of my contacts.”

  “I know I won’t be able to get in touch with the other religious leaders,” John said, “until Monday or Tuesday morning. I know the Jewish Faithful are celebrating their sabbath, today, and I have Mass to prepare for tomorrow morning.”

  Morgana nodded her head. She stood up and grabbed a handful of her skirt as she grabbed the railing of the carriage. She stepped down the steps and walked away from the carriage. She needed to check her journals from the time when King Edward ruled. She hoped she could find why she had a nagging feeling of the strangeness of that Hunt.

  Back at the docks, Genesis watched as the carriages carrying the Ruling Family members, The Pope, and the High Lord Bishop out of sight. He glanced toward Bartholomew. The acting head General had an unconformable look in his eyes when his gaze met Genesis’ and sent a questioning look before his eyes darted over to the High Lord Paladin. Genesis wanted to laugh.

  He couldn’t believe the high and mighty Bartholomew didn’t want to have a conversation with the High Lord Paladin. Though, he did admit to himself, he didn’t want to either if half of the stories he had heard about the Paladin were to be believed, but out of the three Generals and their seconds, Genesis was the most skilled, one could say, when it came to discussing issues with another person in power. He sent Bartholomew a nod before he stepped forward.

  “High Lord Paladin Peter,” he started. He waited until the High Lord Paladin turned his attention onto the red head general before he continued, “I am Genesis, of House White Hall, General of the Fire Brigade. It is my honor to meet you.”

  “General,” the Paladin nodded in greeting.

  Genesis waited a heart beat for anything else before he went on, waving his hand at Honor and Zack, watching the Paladin’s gaze, “These gentlemen are General Honor of the Blade Brigade of House Butcher with his Second, Zackary of House Longdale.” He pointed at Bartholomew and Auron, “General Bartholomew of the Fiery Blade Brigade, of House Lockhaven with his Second, Auron of house Longstreet.” He jerked a thumb at Reno, “And last, this is my second, Reno of the Fire Brigade, of House Hume.” He paused, waiting long enough to see if the Paladin would response or not.

  When it became he wouldn’t, Genesis said, “We have came up with a series of security measures for the next few days. Please, let one of us know if you spot any weakness in our defenses or see something we can improve on. We will welcome any suggestion to help to better protect the Kingdom as well as the Pope and your group.”

  “Very well,” the Paladin replied. He turned and called out, “Move out, men.” He started up the road to the Castle with the rest of the Paladins, marching.

  The Generals and their seconds were silent until the Paladins were nearly out of sight, reaching the halfway point between the docks and the Castle when Reno decided to break the silence, “Well, that went well.”

  “It went the way I thought it would,” Genesis confessed and turned to the others, “My knowledge of the Paladin order is somewhat limited, I do admit. That High Lord Paladin seemed to be the quite type.” His eyes darted up the pathway as they narrowed, staring after the Paladin group.

  “You are thinking something,” Honor commented, recognizing the signs.

  “Yeah, I am,” Genesis stated. He licked his lips and voiced his thoughts, “I think he is going to allow us to take charge unless something drastic happens, that is out of our control or the fact we have lost control of a situation.”

  “Best be our best behavior then,” Zack let out a nervous chuckle.

  “Well, damn,” Reno commented, “I had thought about going to party tonight.” Genesis didn’t need to turn his head to know Honor and Bartholomew turned glares onto his second. “Whoa! I was just joking!”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Genesis said, “We have to get our asses up there and take care before Belladonna decide to put the knights in charge and make us look worst then she already has.” The group returned to the castle in a brisk walk.

  A couple hours later, the Generals sat together in a room off of the Barracks. Genesis eyed the long table of food the servants had wheeled in. His stomach rumbled. It had been hours since he last ate. The scent slowly filled the room, making his stomach rumble again. He blinked and turned his attention back to Honor.

  “Here’s another report about the Dead End Forest,” Honor commented, dryly. His voice rang out in the small room set aside for the three Generals and their seconds to use for the next few days. “Private Sean sent this report in, saying…there has been an increase movement in the forest, majority of it is non-human related. At his count, a dozen dwarves traveled from the mountains -”

  “How did he tell they were dwarves?” Genesis cut in. He sat back in his chair, his legs extend in front of him up on the desk, his ankles crossed, and he slowly rocked the chair on its rear legs back and forth. “I rather not send men out there to discover these men are not dwarves and really short beaded men dressed in armor.”

  “Yes, we know about your view about the Non-humans,” Bartholomew spoke up from the table on the far rear of the room. He walked along the table, grabbing what he wanted to eat. “And we share them, but if it was just short beaded men dressed in armor as you say, it would bring about another set of worries.”

  “Yeah,” Genesis said. He eyed the food at the back of the room, debating if he really wanted to get up from his comfortable spot and grab lunch or just stay put.

  It was one of the things his mother taught him, despite the arguments with his grandmother. The non-humans should be treated the way the humans treated - equal, in all ways. Genesis knew there was different types of Non-humans roaming around. Being half fae, Merlin and Morgana were the only ones in the Castle outside of the Dungeons because the dungeons didn’t have the necessary equipment in place to hold the two powerful beings of magic.

  According to the stories he had heard from his father and his mother, both were living in the castle at the time when Belladonna was crowed as High Queen, Belladonna did try to sentence them to spend a lifetime in dungeons, but it was not long before Merlin and Morgana were walking around the Castle. They had citied none of the current Ruling family could do such a thing without two more powerful magi take their place due to the powerful protections surrounding the Castle and the village. After that long argument, something had happened that scared Belladonna to her core, as his father put it, but he refused to go into detail, and she seemed to content to limit their powers in the Kingdom.

  “According to Private Sean’s report, he could tell they were dwarves by the way,” Honor explained, “they appeared from the Mountain side and marched along the mountain’s bottom before they disappeared into the forest.” He paused, waiting for any response. When there wasn’t one, “Sean goes on, saying he informed his partner, Private Tucker, that he was going to get closer and see what was going on. He managed to sneak up on the dwarves, hearing the language they speak, and how they appeared to be hired by a community of non-humans to do something.”

  “How long ago was that report submitted,” Bartholomew asked, strolling across the room and took his seat at the desk across from Genesis’. He shuffled the various reports that sat on his desk, clearing a place to eat at without worry getting food on the reports.

  “Two weeks ago,” Honor stated with a sigh. He placed the report back on his desk and placed his face in his hands.

  “Shit,” Genesis breathed, setting his chair back down with a loud thud. He pulled his legs down, uncrossing his ankles, and his booted feet landed on the wooden floor as the same time his chair did.

  Bartholomew frowned and looked down at his food. Dissatisfaction colored his face and he was half tempted to push his food away. His appetite lost.

  Genesis stood up with a growl, “I hate this…being short handed on every shift, getting reports like these nearly two weeks late when we could have done something at the time we got them.” He twisted on his heel. His duster spun out, flaring around his thighs. He paced back and forth.

  He knew things would be a lot different if they had an extra General or two. Hell, he knew if they could spare their seconds and pulled them into helping the trio, it would help to tackle the back log dramatically. Doing that, it meant their thirds have to take control of three shifts. Genesis couldn’t do that to his own third in command.

  “We know,” Honor’s voice held a note of displeasure in it. “We feel the same.”

  “However, our hands are tied right now,” Bartholomew added his voice, “We are without a King and the way things are, we can’t petition the High Queen for help. Not to mention, we can’t bother the Ruling Family about our problems when they are trying to hold together Camelot. We have worked this way for the last year or so. We can get through this.”

  “I know, Bart,” Genesis agreed, his voice was full of resentment. The taller general was right. The red head didn’t remember when was the last time they had a General team of 6. It had to be two or three years ago.

  It didn’t help things when the Prince announced he was not chosen…well, not in so many words. Most of the public didn’t know the Holy Sword had to chose the next King. However, it still didn’t help things when the Prince did announced that. He was aware of how the various parties moved within the Court. Lucky for him, he hadn’t been approached by another representative of a house to form some type of alliance in case he wanted to try to pull the Holy Sword. He knew it was matter of time. He let out a sigh.

  There were so many things in the works, shifting by the hour. He wished his mother was around. She would know what to do. She had dealt with these types of things while she was growing up with her own grandmother, the first Female General. In the stories, he still remembered, she often said when her hands appeared to be tied, she got creative, looking for solutions out of the norm. He stopped. His eyes widened in surprise. “She got creative, looking for solutions out of the norm,” he repeated his thought out loud.

  “What?” Honor asked.

  Genesis held up a finger, thinking out loud, “Creative. We have to get creative. Look for solutions out of the norm. I’m the acting Lord of the White Hall House. That means I have the same power that my father has while he is at Court.” His eyes settled on the far wall, staring at nothing as his thoughts darted. “I have vessel houses and relatives to call up on. Of course, other connections I could use.” He took a breath before he continued, “Everything will have to be off the records.” His eyes darted over to meet Honor’s then Bartholomew’s. A glint of understanding shine in their eyes. “Most of the meetings I will be having will be either down in the village or in my family’s wing.”

  “What you are suggesting,” Honor spoke up, “We can not help you with.”

  “We don’t have the same connections nor the power to help you if you catch the wrong kind of attention,” Bartholomew said, “Let alone if Belladonna or anyone within the Ruling Family.”

  Genesis knew what he was doing. He knew there were some risks he would have to take and hoped (and pray to God) that he wouldn’t get caught. His grandmother could be as vicious as Belladonna when she put her mind to it. It was one of the reasons why his father took his younger brothers with him when he headed back to the White Hall Estate to deal whatever kind of trouble his grandmother stirred up when she had informed that Valentina was coming to the Estate. He sighed before he said, “I know you won’t be able to with the items I will be personally handling, but I do have a favor to ask…if something does happens to me, make sure Reno becomes the General of the Fire Brigade. He will be handle the men.”

  “It will be done,” Honor promised.

  “As long as Belladonna won’t interfere with the decision,” Bartholomew cut in.

  “Yeah,” Genesis nodded in agreement, sucking in a breath, before he looked at the papers scattered about the room and he came up with a plan, “Let’s sort through these reports into two different piles. The ones we can officially and the ones we can’t do a damn thing about.” The last word, unofficially, drifted through the air unsaid. The trio set to work.

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