The chamber was dark, the stone walls sheathed in shadow, and cold. A dozen robed figures stood around a small iron brazier, it's flames life almost spent as its coals flickered weakly, that cast a soft light over the hooded faces of the men.
They weren't scholars, all were tall and broad and beneath the cowls of their robes their faces were hard cut and scarred.
"Is it true?" One said, his voice deep and sonorous.
"Can it be." Another shook his head as he replied. "We all felt it, we all felt him die."
"He was the best of us, if any could return..."
"What you suggest is madness."
"There is no power, dark or light, that can restore life."
"Are you now a master of the mystic?"
"No, but I know its limits."
"His power had none, you saw what he did at the end."
"What are we to do now then?"
"If he's returned."
"This kingdom needs us."
"We gave our oaths to the Queen."
"Oaths that are moot if he's alive."
"Would you have us break our honour?"
"Honour is a distant memory."
The voices and dialogue overlapped itself as the inner circle of the southern Knights quietly argued.
At last the tallest and greatest of the figures raised a hand.
Immediately all fell silent.
"I do not know whether or not he has returned but I believe I may be able to find out."
"And if he has, what will we do Titus?"
Titus sighed.
"Then we do what we have always done."
He turned away from the brazier.
"Serve."
Titus left the small chamber that rested beneath the half constructed castle and made his way back towards his chambers. Couldn't exactly go about the castle and city in a robe after all.
After he'd changed into a coat and tunic Titus immediately started off towards the quarters of the Grand Knight.
It was quite late, the sun had long since set, but this couldn't wait.
With his long strides he was soon before the door of her personal chambers.
Titus took a deep breath.
He knocked.
(@salvusamicus)
