The High Priestess

Kasteel Zwarte Mid Evening - 14th Day of the 12th Month of Year 706

Chapter 6

It was all Private DeCampe could do not to squirm in his seat and give himself away to his companions as they ate their evening meal. Sergeant Gardol tried to build on unit integrity whenever he could and one such example was ensuring the entire troop rest, ate, and were given the same amount of time off as a group. Exceptions of course were made in the rare case of a family emergency but no one brooked an issue at that. Experience taught James that this was the fastest means to break down any potential resentment that might build up over time between warriors who might have to count on each other for their very lives one day. By everyone in the squad performing if not the very same details, at least assignments that took the same amounts of time and effort, James believed there was little chance of soldiers claiming some were not pulling their weight or living off the work of other members of their squad. While this was quite normal barracks grumbling in the Dementlieu militia it was one complaint that was never heard spoken by the troops of Sergeant Gardol's unit.

For Private DeCampe who had never experienced this unbiased treatment before he found the practice to be one of the most enviable things abut this unit when he had been looking at it from the outside. He had not, however, realized that this practice came at a very real cost. Once he had actually been assigned and moved in, it had taken Flo a while to square himself away to the abnormally high standards, at least as compared to other units of the militia, that the rest of his squad lived within. Indeed he still realized that he had a ways to go to live up to them though such was Private Rene's rule that no one dared to ridicule new recruits over the cleanliness of their uniform or the quality of shine on their boots. Instead his barracks mates offered him loads of helpful suggestion they themselves had been taught so that they all could maintain the look and standards of elite troops as they had been designated.

He would never have guessed that this preposterous level of fairness that he was enjoying would so complicate his life as to suddenly make his plans for the evening nearly impossible. When Flo had been dressed down by his leader and given night watch duty, he had been pleased for this punishment likely allowed him the only opportunity Private DeCampe would have to recover the rest of the gold that was down the well and still find a means to keep the lion's share for himself. That was the whole and only reason why he had accepted the reprimand in the first place without raising any argument about spending a night on watch smelling like bacon fat. That the punishment was for just Andre and himself had in fact played directly into his plans.

Unfortunately when the rest of the squad learned of this assignment all eight of them had agreed, in fact even their leader Private Rene had too, that the squad would all perform guard duty tonight in pairs, just like their teammates Flo and Andre had been assigned to even though every member was exhausted from the day's march. This however left their leader Private Rene in a bit of a dilemma as there were only three assigned guard positions that he had to man with a pair of soldier each. One just outside of the castle entrance, one in the courtyard where the well was located, and one inside the keep portion itself where the guard could respond to the sergeant or lieutenant as required or to raise the alarm in the barracks rooms of the other sleeping squads if they found themselves under attack.

Rene decided then with ten hours of darkness each pairing of soldiers would man all three positions for two hour watches before moving on. The two pairs of soldiers not currently assigned to any of the locations would retire to the barracks to catch four hours of rest since there would still be work to be done tomorrow to make this bizarre castle made seemingly out of a single stone into a home away from home for all of them. That meant Flo only had two hours to not only to recruit Andre into his conspiracy, but then to execute it by climbing back down the well, opening up the space so he could worm his way in, recover the coins, and get back out.

And the Bitch of Misfortune, goddess of ill luck, seemingly was laughing at him even more, Flo realized since he and Andre had drawn first watch at the well. He wanted to offer up a swap, but he could not come up with a convincing reason to do so that anyone would accept. He could not make the rest of the troops suspicious or they might realize he was up to something. While Flo could make due with this schedule if his partner were agreeable, there was no way for Private DeCampe to recruit and convince Andre before their watch began without having to explain everything in detail. And as the troops of the third squad ate together, telling Andre here at dinner would be the same as telling the other nine members of his unit.

He even considered that idea before rejecting it as preposterous. Why would anyone accept one out of eleven coins, when he could get two out of three or perhaps even better odds since he was being teamed with such a trusting and slow witted partner? Not that Andre was a bad guy per say, but he really, like the rest of this brainwashed troop, had not figured out the advantages of looking out for himself. For example, if Flo was invited to 'entertain' the lieutenant in her private chambers for an evening he was not about to willingly submit to one hour duties so that all the other soldiers could belly up to the bar and performed as well. Then again based on the rumors about the lieutenant from a common lady who worked as a cleaning woman in the pleasure house where the Lieutenant Robin had willing achieved her reputation, one hour shifts might be more in line with her own desires.

Private Flo finished his meal and only with the ultimate test of his willpower kept his hands, feet, and every other revealing sign that something was up with him strictly under control. When the whole squad had finished the meal, the last of the three squads to do so this evening, they broke into their assigned pairs and immediately assumed guard duty for the night. The other pair of soldiers that had been assigned first watch outside the caste walls accompanied Flo and Andre as far as the courtyard and then bid their squad mates a safe watch as they casually made their way outside, annoying Private DeCampe because he was eager to claim his riches. But his smile grew once the pair had been swallowed up the darkness beyond the castle's walls.

Within the confines of the courtyard the pair had a campfire built up on the ground between the well and the entrance so the soldiers could not only keep warm, but also have enough light to see if someone were trying to sneak in, someone perhaps like a tribe of filthy little kobolds. Though he felt pressed for time Flo planned to give Andre the time to look around and relax before he would present his fellow guard with the offer of riches. He hoped the other's mind would be as tired as his body was and perhaps make him that much more pliable to the idea.

Unfortunately, unlike the members of the troop who had passed this way when the troop went to dinner, Andre immediately noticed the rope still laying on the ground that Flo had failed to return to the room set up to store the unit's non-food and non-weapon supplies. "I thought you told Private Deville that you would return this before we ate?" Andre's tone, while not actually accusatory, held an edge of both disapproval and disappointment that reminded his guilty and conspiring partner of the same tone his father the butcher had taken with his son when the boy had not performed up to the elder's strict standards. All Andre needed to do to complete the illusion was to speak in a gravelly voice and explain that every piece of meat cut too thick was basically the same thing as food being stolen from their own table.

This similarity to the very family experience he had done everything he could do to get away from almost made Flo decide to leave the gold down the well rather than share even a single piece of it, especially since he could smell his pores still reeked of bacon fat! He stood there in a prolonged moment of indecision, shuffling from one foot to the other, and never even noticed that Private Andre had given up waiting for a response and had begun to coil the rope up into the proper form for storage.

It was the shuffling though that ended up making the decision for Flo, as the coin still in his small clothes shifted just enough to pinch him in a rather uncomfortable location as if reminding him of the stakes. It was not that DeCampe normally stored his wealth there, but his squad mates had not to this point provided him even a moment to fish it out and get it into his coin purse. First his 'friends' had helped scrape most of the lard from his body with the dull edges of their meal knives which was not at all a comfortable feeling even though they had attempted to be gentle. Then they had handed him back his clothes they had stripped from him, patting him on the back while he dressed for a job well done, but still preventing him from ever reaching his secretly secreted gotten gain. Even when he tried to seek some privacy by excusing himself to go to the jakes to relieve himself, another of the troop had accompanied him as well complaining about the bad case of the winds he was suffering from. No only did this prevent Private DeCampe from dropping his clothes as one might normally in fear of the telltale glow of gold catching his unwanted companion's eye, but much to his olfactory senses, not to mention his hearing in a cramped room that only echoed sounds, the complaint of bowel winds did not turn out to be a scheme to stay close. Even the scent of bacon grease on his body had not helped to lessen the nostril related impact of the gaseous release. What it did do was make Flo finish his business and get back to the clear air outside as fast as he was possible.

Now though he had the opportunity to pull the coin free while Andre's back was to him as the other wound up the rope. He looked down at its untarnished glimmer in the flickering light of the bonfire weighing the value of this single assured coin against the wealth remained below, realizing at the very worst he would likely double his coinage if he was caught and had to share. And if not, he could make more in this one night than perhaps he would ever hold at one time during his entire enlistment. It was this realization, in truth nothing more than simple greed, that finally made the decision for Flo.

Andre finished the coiling the rope around his arm and had just begun to tie it off securely when the all too easily identified sound of a coin landing before him that made the private stop his efforts and stare as it rolled in a teasing circle, quivering and shaking until it finally rested on the ground right between his two feet. Andre could not identify the face or the country of origin of the coin, nor because of its unworn appearance could he tell the approximate age, though in truth he had only seen an actual gold coin a mere handful of times in his life. He did however know that there was some extraordinary story involved if Flo acquired such a coin since he knew the newest member of the troop had yet to prove he could budget his pay successfully enough to ensure even a bowl of watery soup was available to eat by the end of the week. Andre knew Flo owed a copper or two to at least three of the members of this squad and probably others in the troop as well.

Andre lifted the coin up and turned with his hand out to offer it back to Flo who stood looking at him with an all too familiar glimmer of a scheme upon his face. "Do I want to know?" The butcher's son left his hand palm up patiently and did not begin to speak until the coin was placed gently within and he folded in up in his fist once more.

"There are almost a dozen more down the well Andre and I will willingly provide you a half dozen, truly half of the take if we might keep these gains a secret just between the two of us." Flo could see the suggestion initially struck a repulsive chord within his companion and was just beginning to resign himself to losing all that wealth when a second look of consideration started to grow on Andre's face.

In truth the second soldier did not actually spend time considering for himself what the wealth might mean, but was in fact thinking that having a bit more coin might just cause Flo to straighten up his act. Most of Private DeCampe's troubles tended to revolve around not having the necessary funds to live as well as he wanted to. So instead of allowing himself to look like a common soldier to his friends and fellow soldiers, Flo did outrageous things like he had by propositioning the new lieutenant, to become the unit jester and hopefully make the others like him. Of course Andre could not explain to his friend that he and just about everyone else could see though his games. That would likely make the other private even more reclusive internally and likely to seek of even more extreme and foolhardy actions that would get him in even more trouble.

But Andre could sympathize with a new soldier wanting to be seen as more than what others wanted to believe you possible of. Like Flo, Andre knew most people tended to be shallow and what was that phrase the scribe had told him, ah yes they liked to 'judge a book by its cover.' For Flo that meant people seeing only the undisciplined clown not the young man just struggling to fit in and become a reliable friend. Similarly for Andre, everyone saw him as slow because he was so muscle bound, the results of growing up the son of a leather tanner and spending your teen years hauling carcasses of horses and cattle around so they could be skinned without damaging the leather by dragging it. So firm was this stereotype that no one in the unit even knew or would likely believe that Andre even knew how to read and write, having self taught these skills, which most of the other soldiers were not capable of.

So while it was against the rules to not share found wealth with all the troopers, perhaps in this case he could overlook their gains, in fact he could split his own share up and leave Flo to keep his six or so coins for himself. That way Andre would not profit more than the rest of the unit, keeping his own personal honor in tact, but at the same time he could help Flo settle up those debts he had been accruing and hopefully leave him enough funds to become comfortable with himself.

"Tell me everything." Andre turned with a serious look on his face. "Leave nothing out and I will consider whatever offer and scheme you have." Flo's face brightened in shock and glee at his good fortune of a partner. "But I warn you if you lie about even the smallest detail to me I will go right this moment and report you to Private DeVille."

So Flo did exactly as he had been directed and explained to the best of his ability he could exactly what he had found down below. He especially emphasized the number and shininess of the gold coins he had seen and even provided his own hypothesis that the coins may have come from an undiscovered treasure vault that an earthquake had triggered open. Or perhaps they had been washed to that location from some underground river. Either way, the rest of the dozen coins lay just below their feet and were the pair's for the taking if Andre would only agree to help.

"How do you know they are not a part of the treasures the kobolds have looted?" Andre asked. Part of the troop's assignment was to recover if possible any surviving goods and wealth of the tribe so that Lord d'Honaire could be compensated for his losses. Normally such wealth would be turned over to the court system to be argued over for years before a judgment was made. This was to ensure that all parties had the chance to make a claim on the goods. But since both caravans had belonged to the same lord, who was also a ruling member of the council, once again this technical process would be overlooked and the recovered treasure, minus any costs incurred by the soldiers in pursuit of the wealth, would be given directly back to him.

"I can not say for certain of course, but there was no way even those tiny bastards could squeeze though the gap at present." Flo responded. "If they did put these coins there, then they never intended to retrieve them." His answer's logic made Andre nod is head that the coins were indeed separate from their mission.

"So what's you plan then?" Andre said in a level tone. While the coins were indeed impressive to consider, in truth he was not nearly as impressed with money as his friend was. But if the plan seemed a reasonable one then he might decide to help Flo anyway.

"All I need from you is to help me secure the rope and of course not tell anyone that I have gone down the well." Flo offered up as basic a plan as was possible that involved the absolute minimum of effort on Andre's part. He assumed that like it would for himself, this would make his companion more agreeable to the idea if he did not have to exert himself in the process.. "I will climb down myself, open the runoff channel enough for me to squeeze through and recover the coins, and then I will climb back up and share them with you." He smiled, trying to appear innocent and honest, though this was a bit of an obvious stretch for him.

"No!" Andre's denial was both forceful and final. Private DeCampe wanted to argue but there would be no point if he had not already convinced his watch partner. Surprisingly though Andre had not finished speaking, he only had paused to carefully choose the proper words to complete his thought. "First of all there is no way you can hang onto the rope and at the same time open up the crack. Secondly the channel may be unstable and collapse on you while you are inside."

Both arguments seemed logically to Flo, but of course with the glimmer of gold in his eyes, such logic was not what he wanted to hear. "Instead I will sling a harness around your waist and thighs so that I can lower you down and this way you can leave your arms free to do what is needed to widen the crack. This will also assist me if you get trapped or run into some other danger I can pull you back out alive hopefully, or at least your corpse." Andre smiled at his joke but Private DeCampe was in such shock that his friend had agreed that he only nodded as if the idea of him dying was just fine.

"I need you to agree to just one more thing." Andre said as he began to tie up a harness, a skill he had be required to acquire during his apprentice years in his father's leatherworking shop. "I get to hold onto the gold coin." He finished the final knot and held his hand out expectantly.

The idea of parting with some coins of course had been okay with Private DeCampe all along because he would be keeping at least half of them for himself, but the idea of parting with the first and only one he had so far acquired did not sit well. "Why is that necessary?" He asked, wondering if perhaps Andre intended to sell him out somehow and keep the coin. Such a thought was within Flo's capabilities so of course he assumed that his partner might be just as capable.

"I want it for two reasons." The other private explained. "First it will prove to me your willingness to share. Second if something does go wrong and I can not pull you out I can use the coin as proof of what you said and convince the others to recover your body for a proper burial at least." Andre still stood with his hand out and a look of determination on his face that failing to accept this condition would indeed be a deal breaker.

Flo still did not like the idea of giving away the coin, but he could not see any other alternative. And while the one coin was important to him, it did not measure up to the potential gains he could acquire below. Reluctantly he opened his coin purse and handed over the gold.

Andre held the harness up and had Flo step into it before pulling the other end of the rope up the inside and back of his shirt and through his collar to steady any swinging. While this was not completely necessary due to the cramped quarters of the well itself, it was a reasonable precaution. Andre lit the also forgotten oil lamp that had been lying next to the rope and handed it Flo telling him to make sure he did not drop it or its replacement would come out of his share of tonight's recovered coins.

By now thirty minutes of their watch had already passed and this left little time for any additional arguments or ideas. With barely a word, Flo climbed up onto the side of the well and sat down with his legs dangling down into the pit. Andre quickly looped the other end of the rope over each hip of the statue standing above and secured his grip. With a nod to Flo he pulled on the rope and lifted the private up above the gaping hole and then slowly began to provide a little slack at a time to lower him into the beckoning depths for the second time in mere hours.

The combination of having already done this once and this time being right side up made the second descent much more enjoyable than the first. Of course the promise of wealth just a mere few feet away might also have contributed to the smile that Private DeCampe wore as he reached the thirty foot mark where the obsidian stone gave way to the natural earth behind it.

Thankfully the crevasse appeared right where it should in his descent, though Flo did have to turn a bit to the right so that he faced it fully. At the proper level he called out to Andre to stop lowering him and felt the rope go taught and then tremble a bit with vibrations as the big man tied it off on some part of the statue he assumed.

Flo wasted no more time worrying about that, but instead drew his combat dagger and began to hack away at the edges of the gap, widening it a few inches at a time. When enough loose dirt and gravel piled up, he would pause in his efforts long enough to pull it all into the well letting it rain down on the shards of rock below. But before he started again, he always took a moment to shine the lantern a little farther into the gap to see the gold that still lay tauntingly beyond his grasp. He also noted that the coins were in a small naturally carved out space but that this also seemed to have a second nearly man sized crack feeding into it from the left. Perhaps this second natural pathway for water runoff actually crossed through the treasure room that Flo was certain lay somewhere nearby.

It took just slightly longer than the expected fifteen minutes for Flo to widen the hole enough to allow him to get his shoulders, and by then the rest of him into the natural tunnel. Of course with all those coins lying tauntingly just beyond his reach the fifteen minutes seemed even longer. But now that the space was open enough for him to squeeze into, he braced himself and called for Andre to start playing out some more slack in the rope so he could make his way inside. Thankfully he had measured the space needed correctly and barely even scraped the sides of the walls with his shoulders.

Flo kept the lamp out in front of him but the dagger became a sudden issue. He needed at least one hand free to collect the coins and a second to shine the light so that he knew where the coins were located. That left him a hand short to hold onto the blade in case he needed it. It was not that he expected to be attacked, but rather if he needed the tool to open up any area of the tunnel further. It would hardly do in that case for the weapon to be back in its sheath where he could not reach it for then he would have to back all the way out to reach it again.

Luckily for him, all the digging in grit and stone had significantly dulled the once finely sharpened and shiny steel blade. This gave him an inspiration, actually based on the memory of a street play about pirates he had remembered from his childhood, to carry the blade in his teeth. Thankfully as he crawled the weapon did not widen his mouth any further than it already was.

Flo collected another fourteen gold coins along with a half a dozen silver ones that he had failed to mention during his description earlier to his partner. Each coin was placed in his coin purse that he currently wore around his neck instead of his waist. If his partner demanded to see the entire contents of the pouch he could still say the silver was from his pay and so therefore not subject to dividing between them.

A rather oddly shaped rock also caught the private's attention and he turned the light around to get a better look at it. It was roughly square in shape, almost a foot to a side and stood three inches or so in height. He tapped it with the edge of his dagger, but instead of feeling the sharp vibrations of metal striking stone, the substance beneath gave way a bit with a far more muffled sound. Flo scraped his blade over the rock, finding that it was instead a carefully wrapped package in oilskin than had over time been covered with dust and debris to end up changing its coloring it the same shade as the stone that surrounded it. Whatever was inside the package though obviously had to be of significant value not only because it had been carefully protected in such a manner but also because it was in the presence of other treasure as well. Flo pulled it toward him, finding it to be bulky but still much lighter than a stone of the same size would have been.

A few deft cuts with his dull dagger was still enough to part the aged and water worn protective cloth covering and reveal that the contents held within was an old book. This was initially disappointing not only for the fact that Flo did not know how to read, but because it was not another source of easily hidden and spent treasure. He was smart enough to know, however, that old books could fetch a good price, potentially many times more than the coins he had already acquired, if they were presented to the proper buyer. That would mean however that he had to find someone who could tell him what the book said so he could better identify not only its potential value, but also what type of person would be most interested in acquiring it. It would also present a bit of a trick to carry it out and even more of one to conceal it from Andre. He would have to back slowly out of the cave pulling the book behind him until he had once again reached the well proper and then find some way of securing it inside his shirt as Andre helped pull him up. Once topside he would have to immediately turn over the pouch of coins for Andre to divide up evenly as a show of good faith while he meanwhile coiled the rope and hid the book in its fold then secure them all in the storage room on the way to their next posting outside their commander's quarters. With a little luck he could retrieve it later that day since the room was near the jakes and then slip it into his personal gear where no one would find it. But first he needed to finish his search for more coins.

Flo's right hand slowly shined the light from the hooded lamp along all the walls of the little chamber seeking any more telltale signs of hidden riches perhaps embedded in the walls. Finally he flashed the light down the second crevasse and while the soldier was disappointed to not see any further gold or silver coinage on the ground or walls within waiting to be claimed. The light did though suddenly sparkle in a rainbow of color reflected back from the black wall at the end of the naturally formed passageway which almost blinded him temporarily by its brilliance.

Flo realized in an instant from the color and smoothness of the stone that he was looking at some underground portion of a wall of the castle, though he had no idea which one of course. And this almost assuredly meant the rainbow of light he had seen reflected back at him was coming from the back side of one of those strange arrowhead crystals that lined every wall in this fortress. He turned the lamp just enough to project light down the six feet of passageway to the wall, but took a care not to let it shine directly on the crystal to prevent the explosion of reflected colors from dazzling him again.

The crystal, for that indeed was the source of the reflection, on this side of the wall looked far different from the sharply angled pieces that could be seen from the normal sides of the walls. This side was a rounded oval, not unlike a chicken's egg, if of course there was a chicken that was eight foot tall and had laid such a prize. It also had a much milkier in appearance than the clear crystals looked in the walls.

Flo jerked twice on the rope, his signal to Andre to provide him additional slack and began to crawl down this second passage toward the wall and its prize. As he got even closer he found that his hypothesis of water runoff had been correct for this wall of obsidian showed the telltale signs of wear under season upon season of rains and melting snows. Thankfully this fall and early winter seasons had been pretty dry so the cavern at the moment did not current have any water running through it or pooled within.

The soldier studied the crystal even closer with only the smallest fraction of light coming through the hood of his lantern. He hesitantly tapped the stone gently with the hilt of his dagger, finding it to be nearly as hard as the obsidian surrounding it. Its flawless oval shape however was the most intriguing thing about it along followed closely by its milky color. It was almost like this was a giant pearl somehow suspended in the stone.

The idea suddenly exploded in his mind. Could that be actually what it was? He knew that pearls were a gemstone associated mostly with water, just like diamonds and rubies were usually found on land. Being the son of a butcher he never had seen any gemstone himself so all his knowledge came from second hand sources and stories he had picked up over time. Not for the first time he wished his father had a different occupation that would have allowed his son to acquire useful information and skills in life beyond how to properly cut meat.

Were pearls also found on land? Were they crystal like and shiny on the inside? Flo had to admit to himself that he did not know. He did recall that people occasionally found diamonds or other gems washed up on the beach but could not recall if these were from sunken ships or naturally occurring like the stones the waves carried in with the tides. Wasn't there also some saying about pearls lying on the ground around pigs or were those some obscure reference to truffles? Flo had never heard of a pig-like sea creature so then it seemed logical if pearls were to be associated with a pig, both had to be found upon the land as well. But if this indeed what it was could he get the pearl out of the stone without damaging it?

Flo estimated that if the gem was actually egg shaped then its widest point was just a little bit deeper into the wall. That would not be good, because the walls had already shown themselves to be resistant to marring by metal objects the soldiers had brought with them. The troop had tried to drive nails into the stone to hang lanterns, but even the strongest spikes had bent without even marring the facing they were trying to sink into.

However unlike the others, this wall had been subjects to decades, perhaps centuries of rapid water flow and the area near the crystal appeared already grooved and worn away from this potentially destructive element. Perhaps his dagger might be able to scrape away the stone here where it would have been unable to in all other locations.

Realizing that he was pressed for time and likely had only three quarters of an hour at most remaining, Flo ran his dagger along the wall near the pearl and found that the stone did indeed give way to his steel this time. The trick though would be to try and not damage the gemstone and to get it out as fast as possible.

After a few more scrapes, the private began to wedge the dull tip under the side of the gem, hoping to pry it out from the wall that held it. His first bit of leverage did indeed make it move a bit, showing it was a little loose in the socket that it sat within though not quite ready to just pop out. Now pressed for time Flo attacked the wall even harder and slightly more recklessly, take care only not to damage the gem with his blade strokes.

Once the stone gave way to what he figured would be enough to pry it loose he set the lamp down next to him and pressed is dagger into the same gap once again and began to pry. To make sure that the gem did not fall out of the wall and become marred by the stone lying beneath it Private DeCampe kept his left hand ready to catch it once it came free. Little by little the surrounding stone and grit gave way, until with a final effort the rounded side of the crystal pulled free and fell into his palm with its arrowhead like shape of stone sparkling the light back up at him.

The stone was cold, extremely so, to the touch almost like a chunk of ice, but still much colder. He laid it gently on the ground then turned to pick up the lamp and shine it into the room beyond, hoping to see the piles of coins and other treasures in the room beyond. There had to be a room beyond the wall and it made sense this is where the gold and silver he had collected had somehow originated.

The light flickered for only a moment into the completely dark room before a sudden breeze of arctic like air flowed free from the hole and across his body immediately extinguishing the mostly protected lamp and leaving the solider in total darkness. It took only an instant for Private Flo DeCampe to realize he was not alone in that cramped little space any longer. Something cold, oh so very cold like that of the grave, and utterly evil was there in the dark with him. And then the screaming began to deafen him, up until Flo realized he was the one doing all the screaming. But of course by that point it was too late.

Andre had been judging the time and was just about to yank on the chord to signal it was time for Flo to return when the rope in his hands suddenly thrashed uncontrollably and he heard muffled screams coming from down the well. Andre was a strong man with a handshake like a vice, but this did nothing to help him when the violence of the rope's movements yanked two feet of rough cord though his fingers in a mere second. Realizing there were only a few feel remaining he tightened his grip even harder, ignoring that the rough hemp was tearing chunks of skin and flesh away from his fingers and palms until he was finally able to stop its pull.

He did not pause to look down at what the rope had done to his hands. He could feel both of them burning along with the sticky wetness that could only be blood now seeping into the strands of rope as he began to pull it back up toward him. He had no choice but to focus past this pain and just keep pulling. A squad mate's life was likely depending upon him at this moment so how could he ever look the rest of his friends in the eyes again if he did not pull Flo free or at least do everything he was capable of trying to do so?

The first few pulls were every bit as difficult as he expected them to be. In his mind he realized it was as if he were pulling the dead weight of a man on a rope. There were not any additional violent jerks nor was there any apparent assistance in ascending coming from Flo. In fact the effort did not seem all that different than moving the animal carcasses he had for his father. This meant that Flo was at best unconscious if he was lucky, or something fatal had occurred if he was not. But speculation only led to panic. Only time and more puling would reveal the truth of the situation.

But after the fourth such pull the resistance and weight on the other end was suddenly no more. Andre's uncle had occasionally taken the boy fishing with him and the way the rope in his hands was currently responding made the soldier compare it to the way it had felt when a fish had snapped his line and gotten free. Hand over hand Andre pulled, ignoring the burning and shooting pain that came with each grip as he pulled three feet of rope free of the well with every tug. He could see by the pile spooling up beside him that less than ten feet, plus the harness was left, though Andre had already resigned himself to the fact that the end of the rope would show it had been cut or torn through by some sharp stone most likely.

Four more tugs and Andre found out that his assumption had been wrong. The harness came forward, lifted free from the well, and still securing the shirt, leather pants, and even small clothes that Flo had been wearing when he had entered the well. There was no sign of his boots or more importantly of blood or any other form of damage immediately evident anywhere on the clothing either besides the dirt from being pulled along the ground.

Andre dropped the rope and leaned over to look down into the well, hoping to see some sign of his partner. What he saw instead was just darkness, pure, black, and smelling of evil, though up until this point the soldier did not know there was such a smell. A chill gust of wind blasted into his face making him back away, but not before he had seen the twin set of red eyes floating up the well toward him. He reached for his sword, ready to strike whatever climbed out of the well as soon as it appeared, but just like the lamp below, the gust of foul wind extinguished the campfire in the courtyard as simply as if it had been a candle on a bed stand.

Sudden darkness surrounded the soldier but he felt a presence closing on him. "I am free!" The words seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Andre felt a sudden sharp pressure on his neck and instantly began to feel himself tire rapidly. He swung his sword at where he assumed his attacker must be standing but did not feel its blade meet any form of resistance during the swing. The blade fell from his limp hands and Andre summoned up his last ounces of will and strength as he thought about all his friends lying asleep in the castle.

For the second time in mere minutes, a soldier of Dementlieu's elite militia began to wail and scream, although this time there were many others were able to hear his pleas and respond.

Sergeant Gardol woke from a dead sleep into a totally darkened room. He was not sure what had awoken him for there were no echoes of a knock on his door or a call to roust himself from slumber. Neither did he recall having had a nightmare for there were no lingering ghosts of panic playing in his mind even though his heart did seem to be racing. He also found it odd that both candles in his room had somehow been extinguished while he slept. In a normal castle drafts and such were quite common so a breeze might well accomplish this, but here in Kasteel Zwarte the rooms were almost air tight and candle flames never even flickered if left alone.

He reached over and found the candle was still more than two-thirds of its original length telling him it was likely barely midnight if even that late. Luckily a well prepared soldier planned for all such contingencies and so James picked up the iron pocket warmer he had left on the nightstand and opened it up to reveal a still burning ember within. He picked it up and placed it to the wick of the candle and with a few well practiced breaths a single flame once again danced in his room.

James got up and pulled his shirt over his head, having slept in his pants like he did any night on alert so he could respond to an emergency immediately if such was required. He carried the candle to its twin and again found it also had approximately the same amount of time remaining on it to burn. This strongly suggested that a single event had extinguished both flames on opposite sides of the room. He placed a finger on the wick and found it still warm to the touch now associating not only these two events but also whatever the cause was for his waking.

The sergeant also observed by candlelight that his hand shook ever so slightly as lit the second candle. It was only then that he noticed his body was shivering, though he knew this was not from any feeling of cold, at least not from the air around him. He could not explain it rationally but he knew without a doubt in his heart that something within this castle had gone terribly wrong. He stood still beside the flames, soaking in their meager warmth as he tried to determine what was wrong, but at the moment he had not the faintest idea of what this could possible be.

A forceful pounding upon his door followed by a soldier's muffled request that he respond to the knock drew Sergeant Gardol's awareness back to the here and now. If there was trouble, and obviously there was by the knock on his door, then he would deal with it just as he had been trained to. "I am awake private, give me a moment to pull on my boots and buckle on my sword and I will join you." In truth the thick door had kept him from hearing who had come for him but he was sure his own non panicked response would satisfy the soldier long enough for the sergeant to finish dressing.

The guard outside the thick wooden door called back something that sounded vaguely like a 'very good sir' reply though it could just as easily been a three word serenade of undying love as far as the sergeant could tell. Either way though it meant he was expected to show his face so James pulled on his well broken in leather boots and strapped his trusty steel saber to his side before opening the door. He was surprised to find not one of the assigned guards but rather Private Rene DeVille himself to be the one who was current awaiting his arrival with a lit lantern in his hand. Even ignoring the serious look upon the face of the leader of the third squad, the fact the Rene himself was the one reporting to his superior's door meant that some sort of serious trouble had most definitely occurred.

"Alright Rene what is the problem?" James tried to use a relaxed tone with his number two in hopes of trying to make the man and thereby himself relax a bit. Unfortunately Rene was always dead serious at the first signs of trouble, which was a holdover from being the second man of the troop injured during the reaver attack so many years before. In truth it was this no nonsense approach and the trust it instilled in his superior that had secured the private his leadership position.

"Sir I have one man down, injured and comatose though still alive and a second man unaccounted for at present. I have called for an immediate muster in the courtyard before coming for you myself." Rene reported just the basic facts of the situation which he knew was what his sergeant demanded. Speculation would come later at a more appropriate time. James only nodded as he let the private lead him to the source of the problem. But then a look of recognition crossed the sergeant's face and James stopped for a moment to backtrack a few step and knock on another door in the same hallway.

It took a few moments but that portal opened a crack and Lieutenant Robin peeked out from around the solid piece of wood. Her disheveled hair, bleary eyes and bare shoulder was enough for the sergeant to surmise not only had he awaken her from sleep as well, but also that his new commander preferred to seek her rest with little to nothing on. "Yes Sergeant is there something I can do for you this evening?" Had any other officer said those words with the same inflection James would not have reacted, but the lieutenant had a way of making everything she said, even just ordering food, carry an innuendo of proposition to it. And some of the things she said where the wording could be misconstrued to advantage, such as her current question, the implication held the weight of a sledge hammer blow.

James only swallowed to regain his composure and then made his own professional report. "Ma'am it appears we have one or two men injured, would you care to handle the examination yourself or would you like me to investigate the situation and report back to you with the initial results or a full report in the morning?"

The lieutenant only smiled all the more. "That would be fine sergeant you take care of it. I can barely find the desire to drag myself out of bed. Once you know what it is that is going on you can come back to my room and fill me in." This time the less than subtle suggestion was accompanied by a wink that thankfully Private DeVille could not see.

"It will be as you order ma'am." Sergeant James saluted and turned back to his task, happy to hear the door close behind him though not before he heard her whisper "Well there is a nice thought to return to bed with." While this did not help him recover his bearing, at least with her out of the way that was one less problem for the sergeant to deal with at the present.

He motioned to let Rene lead off again and now opened up the discussion to any additional details or speculations. In truth James had considered the possibility that the outside guard post would encounter the kobolds preparing for their next foray, but he had not expected it to happen the first night or until Lord d'Honaire's next caravan was due in a few days or so. "Who was on duty outside the gates and how many of the enemy did they take down?"

Private DeVille looked back at his commander with a look of confusion before realizing his error and further explaining. "I am sorry sir, I should have elaborated that the guard pair down were the ones assigned to the courtyard, not the team outside. In fact it was the team outside that came in response to the screaming and secured the site right after the attack." Sergeant Gardol looked at his second as they walked to assure himself that this was not some sort of foolishness related to his birthday next month. But by the look he was wearing if it was a prank then Private DeVille had become a master thespian in the art of acting.

"Alright from the top what is it you do know for sure? Start with the soldier's names and go from there." The pair kept walking but even in the darkness James could tell that Rene was uncomfortable with some aspects of the story and that it may taint the report. However he also trusted his number two to do the right thing, whatever the right thing was, and would report everything he felt his commander needed to hear.

"Privates Andre and Flo were assigned first watch at the well this evening as per your orders." The identities of the potential victims brought James up short for a few steps as he confirmed that indeed the two soldiers who had been the actual cause of third squad having guard duty this night. In essence what had happened to them could be traced almost directly to the sergeant's orders. But James was enough of a soldier to know better than to let self recriminations and doubts about an event that was already past prevent him from doing his duty in the present.

"Though at the moment we do not understand the reason behind the action it appears that Private Andre lowered Private Flo once more into the well." Rene stepped ahead to open and hold the door for his commander so he need not pause. The pair walked outside and found the entire troop milling about in the courtyard while the remaining members of third squad were huddled around a point near the well.

"Like I was saying without knowing the reason for his descent back into the well, it appears something happened down below that caused Private Andre to pull the rope back up. It appears however that only the rope and some of Private Flo's clothes that were still attached to it were the only things to have come out of the well." The strangeness of the story seemed only to add to the way the night was going already for James but unfortunately the story was not yet finished. "The recovered clothes, Private Flo's pants and shirt, showed no signs of blood or mark of damage or battle. The only marks on Private Andre that we can find are some small areas of deep bruising on the sides of his neck, and the strange pale color of his flesh."

Sergeant James stopped short just outside the circle of the remaining third squad members. Though all the other soldiers of the troop, regardless of which squad they were part of showed obvious concern and sympathy for the victim still lying at their feet who had been one of their own since the very first days the troop had been former, the wise non-commissioned officer could already see that speculation and the first hints of panic among the troops was already running rampant. James had to restore order and remind these men they were soldiers before terror took hold in their hearts.

"Squad leaders form your squads!" Their sergeant ordered and he was happy to see the years of training and drill brought the men out of their contemplations and they began to react immediately to his commands just like they had been trained to do. In less than thirty seconds all three squads, minus the two members of the third, were in place and at rigid attention. Satisfied with what he saw of their discipline he called out his next order. "Squads to parade rest, squad leaders converge on me."

Once more the instilled discipline was showing as every man stood more relaxed but kept their eyes focused forward and not down on their wounded companion. That honor was reserved solely for the three designated squad leaders who themselves circled the body in a kneeling position while the sergeant took a closer look at his disabled man.

Private Andre had always been one of the healthiest looking specimens of manhood within the unit with his tanned and toned muscles that were the results of years of hard work. He also had the naturally perfect groomed hair and always pressed uniform that made him every bit the militia recruiter's dream example when explaining to others what they could aspire to become. The stranger lying before the four leaders now barely resembled the man he had been only a few short hours ago at dinner.

As had been reported Andre's skin had turned pale and now appeared dry and more resembled parchment that had been left out too long in the sun. His once toned muscles seemed sallow and wasted and could no longer fill out the skin that wrapped around them. It was true that he lived still, but this was only obvious by his rare shallow breathing. Most disturbing to look at were his eyes which were still open but showed no sign of recognition or even reacted to the presence of light when the lanterns was brought close to them. The pupils were so large as to make the man's normal blue a total black.

Finally exactly as Private Rene had described, Private Andre's neck showed signs of severe bruising, though not significant in size area to be the results of being struck by anything larger than a pebble. It did not look like the most common form a bruising neck injury found occasionally in the port city they were stationed, namely that of a garrote, for there was no signs of rope or any other object burning or cutting through the skin. Had someone tried to choke the big man, James doubted Andre would willingly have gone along and allowed it to happen without putting up some sort of struggle in the process. That meant Andre's opponent was even stronger that the bull of a man that had been taken down, or his opponent had some means to do so quickly and had attacked totally by surprise.

While the sergeant hardly considered himself a superstitious man, he could not deny the obvious conclusion the clues all pointed to. "Could the attacker actually be a vampire?" James asked himself as he looked at the wounds on the neck even closer. There was no blood evident there or on the ground, but it was obvious that the big soldier had been brought down by something at least as equally menacing. As the battle with the reavers had shown him years ago the loss of enough blood might indeed explain the paleness of his color as well. James needed more facts and unfortunately there was only one place to get them.

"Has anyone gone down the well and checked if Private Flo is lying injured below, or at least surmised why these two had decided such a foray during guard duty was of such importance?" He looked to the three squad leaders but none of them had thought to order so and each felt foolish because of it.

Not surprisingly Private Rene was the first to stand up and turn to his men. "I need a volunteer to go down the well and check things out." Sergeant James looked at the men of third squad and the other two as well and found them torn by indecision. To a man he could see them wanting to fulfill their oaths to one another and help, but he could also see that some level of fear had already begun to take hold in the men's hearts and none of them wanted to expose themselves to any additional personal danger without having their comrades immediately available to back them up.

Private Rene called out again. "Without a volunteer I will be forced to select someone." His tone did not make this declaration a threat so much as it was made to inform his troops of the consequences of their actions, or rather individual inactions. While James understood this and even was pleased to see that Private Rene had demonstrated the willingness to potentially order a man to his death, a skill many leaders never truly appreciated the gravity of until they themselves were forced to do it, the sergeant also realized that this was not the proper time or place for such an action. He had always believed that one can aspire to lead strictly by the authority of their position they hold, but it was always better for everyone involved if subordinates followed because they respected the man who led them.

"Belay that request for a volunteer Private Rene!" Sergeant James directed as he unstrapped his sword belt. "I want to personally see to this myself so that I can make a full and proper accounting of the events. Your soldiers have nothing to prove related to tonight's events." He spoke in an even tone and was happy to see out of the corner of his eyes that the tension the troops were currently feeling relaxed just a bit in most of the men and especially those of the third squad. James also caught that Rene seemed ready to voice another option, likely going himself in his sergeant's stead, but the James cut that off as well before the words even left the private's lips. "That lack of anything to prove goes double for you Rene."

James smiled and pointed to the harness that was still sitting on the side of the well. The other two squad leaders brought it over and untied the rope long enough to remove Private Flo's clothing before once again retying it around the sergeant's waist. Meanwhile Private Rene ordered his men to form the line on the rope and prepare to lower their commander. The men of the third jumped to the order with enthusiasm, not only because they felt this was a way to help out a fellow member of their unit, but because they each felt profound admiration for a leader who showed that he willingly risked any danger himself that he would order his men to face. For a common soldier there was no higher example to aspire to.

Sergeant James now secured on the rope held both the hooded lantern Private Rene had bought and his own trusty dagger, in essence much the same as Private Flo had been outfitted with himself only little over an hour before. He also had one of the soldiers lend him a pack with water and bandages which he secured to his chest for the moment. With a nod to his troops he began to be lowered slowly and carefully into the well. Thankfully James had maintained a trim physique as he had aged for this allowed him to not only descend uninhibited but it even allowed him to carefully point the lantern's light between his feet and further down the well. Below he could only see the shards of rock Flo had described earlier that day though they appeared to be covered in more dirt than he had described. What was obvious is that there was no body lying below. James was unsure at first about how he felt not observing the body of his missing man lying crushed on the rocks.

At the thirty foot mark James found the gaping hole in the side of the well that should not be there along with the fresh dagger marks that showed it had been widened recently. He also observed scuff marks that could only have been made by a pair of hard soled leather boots, much like those the militia wore, crawling into the space. Many of these signs though seemed to have been partially wiped away when Private Andre had pulled the roped back up the well and the clothing still attached had dragged across them to partially erase their evidence.

James pulled himself up into the tunnel and crawled down its passageway realizing he was repeating most likely actions not all that different from those his trooper had performed not so long before. The sergeant was surprised to find the discarded book, its wrapping of course still open lying at the side of the passageway. He paused to look at it more closely as its mere presence was completely out of order for the environment he was in.

As a troop leader James had to know how to read and write to make out the monthly reports and requests for new equipment. As he opened the cover of this book however the sergeant realized that if he could recognize one word out of twenty written within then he was truly lucky. His orderly mind directed him to forget the book for the present and continue his search. This book could wait and serve as a mystery for an appropriate time rather than right now so he slid the tome into his pack to take back with him but leave his hands free. He had no doubt that the volume would prove to be a valuable clue to the mystery but it was what lay down the other tunnel that both explained partially the events and yet surprised the sergeant even more.

At its very end, just before the obsidian wall lay the rest of Private Flo's belonging, namely his coin purse which seemed a bit fuller and heavier than any honest private's should be, his boots, his weapon's belt, along with his exposed and dull steel dagger and an unlit lantern. On inspiration James shook the lamp and found, not surprisingly to him that it still contained a significant store of oil for burning. Somehow, like the candles in his room, this lamp too had been extinguished and a voice within him suggested it was likely at the very same moment his candles had gone out. Such coincidences like these were not common enough to completely ignore so the sergeant assumed these events were all likely related somehow to whatever had occurred this evening here in this well.

What was obviously most lacking in this investigation was Private DeCampe's body and any sign living or dead beyond the discarded items that it had been here. There was none other than the exception of the nearly invisible foot scuffs his boots had made. Not one single scrap of flesh, drop of blood, shard of bone, or even a broken tip of a fingernail was evident in any part of the corridors or the room that James had seen so far. There was nothing of Flo personally at all to prove he had really existed. And that led to some very uncomfortable assumptions.

The only non-supernatural explanation that fit the facts was if Private DeCampe had stripped himself down to complete nakedness, left all his belongings behind for the rest of the members of his troop to find, climbed up the wall and attacked his only friend who would in the sergeant's eyes have no trouble subduing him, before running off naked into the night without the guards outside seeing him. While that scenario made no sense unless the soldier was completely insane, it remained the only possibility that the sergeant was willing to entertain at least for the moment.

James's eyes also found the stone crystal lying right where Flo had set it down to focus his lantern and immediately associated it with the similar shaped hole in the wall. The sergeant shined his light from his lantern into the room beyond and saw it was nothing more than a small cell, perhaps similar to the ones novice monks used for prayers, which contained a few items that appeared as irregular shaped shadows just beyond the edge's of his lantern's light. He marked off the distance he had travelled in his mind so that come dawn he could seek out this room and the potential answers to tonight's mystery that it held. But first he pushed the crystal back into the space it had been pried from, finding that it seemed to resecure itself into the surrounding stone without his help. He could not say why he did that except a part of him felt it was the right thing and needed to be done.

James felt suddenly very alone and very vulnerable and while he could not sense any source for this sudden wave of dread, it did inspire him to complete his investigations by scooping all of Private Flo DeCampe's remaining possessions into the pack he carried and begin to inch backwards all the way back to the well. In his mind James could justify that he had seen everything here there was to see so he had no reason to linger here any longer, but in his heart the sergeant knew he was simply trying to get away from the feeling that something was intently watching him. While he could not find the source of that interest in him he did know two things about his observer. First was whatever the something was staring at him it was something cold and secondly that something was hungry.

Sergeant Gardol was pulled free of the well, much to the relief of his men very much alive and apparently in good health as well. He unstrapped himself from the makeshift harness and then turned to his entire troop who waited expectantly for his report. He considered for a moment lying to his men, telling them that Private Flo had been crushed by rocks down below and that they would seal up the well as a tomb in his honor. Perhaps that would put the men at rest. Perhaps nothing else terrible would happen again while they stayed here. But two things kept James from doing this. First he had never lied to his men and was not about to start this practice now. Secondly he had a feeling that tonight's events were just the beginning of something far bigger than had already occurred.

Instead James did what any good leader would do; he explained the situation as best he could to his men. "This night, without proper authorization or reasonable precautions, Privates Flo and Andre went seeking wealth." The sergeant poured out the contents of the coin purse at his feet without even looking down, though he was almost the only one not to do so. "Private Rene will take these funds into his keeping and if Andre does not recover one quarter of this take shall be sent to his parents."

He pulled Flo's dagger, small clothes, and other personal effects and placed them with his recovered clothes. "I could find no sign of Private DeCampe." The looks of shock on the trooper's faces seemed a prelude to full apprehension. "I said no sign, no blood, no body, nothing. Until such time as I do I refuse to believe, and neither should you without further evidence, that Flo is dead. We will not give up on our comrade until we know his fate." His statement was strong and brooked no argument as every man realized over the next few silent moments that what their sergeant was actually telling them is that he would not give up on them either.

"In the morning we will begin a thorough search of this castle from top to bottom." He laid out the plan he had been forming while being pulled back up. "I have observed a hidden room I was unaware of so who knows what other secrets this building holds. In truth I would not be surprised to learn it has a secret passage by which the kobolds come and go. Would we not all feel foolish speaking of terrible undead when in reality it was the sneaky little buggers who had perhaps poisoned our men and kidnapped Flo. Keep in mind he is the lighter of the two, so the kobolds taking him with them might be designed just to evoke just the fearful reaction we all first had in hopes we will flee. Let's not make their job too easy."

He paused to ensure he had there attention still. "If we find that Private DeCampe has fallen, we will honor him in equal share of the treasures he recovered."

James looked over the men and observed that while their nerves had been stretched tight, they were not going to break, at least not yet. He had given them a reasonable option, though in truth it was one he himself doubted every bit as much as he doubted Flo had decided to desert the unit by first getting naked and then fleeing the keep. Regardless the sergeant's duty remained to his men, especially those still alive and functioning.

"I want the outside guards pulled back to the courtyard to effectively double the watch here." His eyes looked to Private Rene seeking the determination in him and his men that they would fulfill their duties for the evening. "I want Private Andre given a private room, cleaned up, and provided ready food and water if he awakens." James had seen a comatose man before and knew it was unlikely the private would wake up any time soon if at all. Something truly horrific had shattered the soldier's mind causing him to also soil himself. Unless Andre found the inner strength to return to them he would continue to do so until his body wasted away and eventually died.

"Put two guards outside his door and the last two in the hallway as before." He directed the last members of third squad. "I want to know immediately if there is any change in his condition or if he says anything that might shine some light on tonight's events. He is the only one we have who knows what happened here tonight. You are his brothers and need to care for him as such."

Sergeant James was pleased to see not a member of third squad so much as flinched at the orders. His pride in them was evident in his face. They were truly professional and he was never any prouder of them than at this moment, though he did not know how long his satisfaction would comfort them. "Private Rene after breakfast your squad is relieved of all duties for tomorrow so they can rest up. I can't have my best warriors tired when we find the little bastards who are hiding in the castle." Rene nodded with a hint of a smile knowing like every man present did the honor Sergeant Gardol laid on third squad was an exaggeration whose source was love rather than malice.

"Squad leaders take charge of your squads and return them to their assigned duties or rest." He snapped a salute which the three responded to immediately and then without a look back to show them that he trusted his men completely, James stepped proudly from the courtyard and headed back to his room.

He was pleased that he had not lied to his men, though he could not shake the feeling that his honesty had in fact played into the hands of whatever the dark presence he had felt watching him wanted. This cause his steps to walk even faster back to his room.

Only once he was back behind his closed door did he let down the façade that had been necessary for his men. In his heart James knew Flo was dead. The only real question was how many others would join him before this mission was over?