The Reformation Wars: Conflicts Rekindled

Chapter 13

As usual, Manfred awoke earlier than most. With his guest room bereft of any furnishings besides a bed and an empty desk, he found himself with little to do inside besides quiet meditation. Which he did for about an hour. But eventually, he found himself depleted of thoughts to think without giving his brain fresh fuel. So after loosening his body up with a stretch, Manfred put his boots on and headed out.

The castle's corridors were still rather quiet when he emerged, most of the activity being servants attempting to get a jump-start on their master's service to minimize the work required of them later. Others were guards who used the quiet time to exercise in the courtyard. Manfred also spotted a court jester sitting on a stone ledge and reading a book.

Manfred decided to head to the hall for the Knights of the King's Table a few paces south of the castle. After all, if he was to be among their number, he would do well to acquaint himself with their membership and values. About halfway there, doubts surfaced in his mind over the likelihood of any of the knights being awake at this hour, but he continued on anyway. Worst case scenario, he'd sit around and wait a while.

After pushing open a humble wooden door, Manfred found himself inside the knight's hall. He took in his surroundings with a slow nod. The place struck him as a bare-boned version of the castle, matching in architectural style and materials, but lacking the decorations. It possessed a charming simplicity Manfred couldn't help but appreciate.

Manfred passed down a hallway lined on one side with latticed windows, through which filtered the rays of the rising sun. From there, he ascended a short flight of steps, and on the landing, he encountered a man with a purple sash across his shoulder and a sheathed sword on his hip. The man brushed back a lock of blond hair from his face and gave Manfred a curious smile.

"Good morning there, young one." the man greeted as his eyes travelled down to Manfred's own longsword in its scabbard, "What brings you here?"

Manfred felt his body tense. "I'm...I came to explore, I guess. I'll be a knight myself soon. So I guess I wanted to scope things out."

"Ah, I see. Well, explore freely. Just don't interrupt or destroy anything."

"I'll try." Manfred replied with a nervous chuckle. Then he tilted his head. "By any chance...you know where Sir Holt is?"

The man stopped right where he stood, one foot on the landing still and the other rested on the first step. "Alden should be in the dining hall. You'll go left at the next intersection and then into the last room on the left before the stairs."

Manfred's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Thank you, sir."

"My pleasure. Have a good day."

With that, the two parted, and Manfred made his way to the dining hall. A handsome chamber with wooden walls and filled with tables and chairs, with an open hatch in the top to allow light in during the daytime, Manfred truly wouldn't mind eating there himself.

All the tables were vacant except one, and that was occupied by Alden Holt. The old man stooped over a steaming bowl of porridge, his thick staff leaning against an adjacent seat and his countenance somber. He slurped each spoonful with a joyless attitude.

Alden didn't appear to have heard Manfred's entrance. And as the young man stood off to his left, the same side as the old man's blind eye, he had no visual cue of his arrival either. Manfred stepped around into Alden's view with exaggerated footsteps so as not to startle him.

The old man's cycloptic gaze snapped to Manfred once he heard him, and his head jerked up a moment later to follow. A cold, silent stare followed as the young swordsman finished approaching Alden's table.