The War of the Roil: The Knight and the Warlock

Chapter 24: The Titan's Sanctum

A squadron of soldiers, along with a Preserver, were able to make it in time. Still, Lucia was hospitalized, in critical condition. The auriok still had pellets in her flesh that the Preserver couldn't get out and left it to be done by a surgeon.

But while relieved, Lara wasn't satisfied.

The Warlock entered the dungeon of the castle, announcing her entrance with the slam of a door.

All eyes turned to her. Gammond, an Oligarch bound to a chair and a man in a COnsulate soldier's uniform.

"Lara?" Gammond asked, "Did you finish your speech."

"Haven't you heard?" Lara asked, "Assassins were sent after Lucia and I. She's in the hospital."

"Gods and titans..." Gammond gasped, "Are you alright?"

Lara nodded, "I'm fine. But the assassins were loyalists to the Oligarchy. And they mentioned Megysis." Lara stared directly at the bound Oligarch. His reaction was all she needed. There was no mistaking the connection she'd made.

Gammond followed her glare, then back to her, "We're working on it."

"We almost died tonight, Gam." Lara said, "I'm going to get the answers I want." Lara's glare at Gammond was kinder, yet still a glare. It didn't help that her Nordanian blood let her almost tower over him when she wished to be imposing.

Gammond sighed, "Go ask the Intelligence Agent. Not my call."

Lara walked up to the uniformed man. He bore an imperious look across his face that only came with hegemonic authority.

"My name is Lara Shawe. I'm the Warlock. I'd like to speak with this man." Lara said calmly.

"I'm aware, Miss Shawe. But perhaps you should leave this matter to the experts and those with proper jurisdiction." the agent held out his hand, "Agent Frankosil. I operate under the direct order of the Consul of Foreign Affairs."

"Well, Agent Frankosil," Lara growled, "That wasn't a request. That was a notification."

"Your intimidation won't work on me, Warlock." the agent grinned smugly.

"Let me interrogate the Oligarchs and I won't have to resort to intimidation." Lara drew close to Frankosil, her glare hardened.

"You have no authority here, woman." the agent growled.

"I have as much authority here as the amount you value your life." Lara muttered.

Frankosil glanced away. She broke him.

"Be quick about it." He grumbled, before walking away from her.

Lara's eyes drew to the obese man tied to a wooden chair. His once pristine robes of red, purple and gold were dirtied. He had a full face of brown hair and bushy eyebrows. He looked a lot like...Spetyll.

Lara hesitated for a second before drawing in a breath to speak. Why the hesitation? Spetyll was dead. No, he was erased.

"He won't talk." Frankosil muttered from the background, "What makes you think you can coerce answers out of him?"

"Did you send those loyalist assassins after us?" Lara asked, ignoring the agent.

"What assassins?" the Oligarch scrunched up his nose incredulously.

"The Ignitors and Brutes you sent after my carriage."

The Oligarch scoffed, "You think I could order your death from here."

"I'd never be so foolish as to assume something like that of an enemy." Lara said, "Did you send them or not."

"No. I haven't the faintest clue what assassins you're talking about." the Oligarch spat.