Free The Sorcerer's Scourge by Brock Deskins Page B

Solarian’s Light spent the rest of the day knocking on doors and speaking with the residents of the wealthy district. They met little resistance to their intrusion as nearly all had heard of or experienced firsthand that night of terror and were eager to help. They had visited at least two dozen stately manor homes and decided this would be the last one they would investigate before they retired for the night and renewed their search in the morning.
    Samone rapped loudly on the door with a gauntleted fist and waited several minutes before someone opened it. An older man in formal livery looked at them inquisitively from just beyond the threshold.
    “Good evening to you Mr.…,” Samone greeted the man and inquired of his name.
    “Claudius, mistress,” the man supplied. “Was there something I could do for you?”
    “We are investigating an attack that occurred the other night at a ball. May we come in?”
    Claudius hesitated before opening the door wider and gesturing for the group to enter. They passed through the foyer and into a large parlor.
    “I am afraid with the master and missus away I am not allowed to take you beyond the outer parlor. It is just myself and a few servants staying in the house at this time.”
    “Where did the lord of the house go, if I may ask?” Samone inquired.
    “He and the lady went to Brelland last week. We do not expect them to return for at least two more weeks.”
    Samone used one of her more subtle holy powers to detect the presence of undead or beings of evil intent but sensed nothing. She looked at Charles who gave her a small shake of his head.
    “Sorry to have disturbed you, Claudius,” Samone said and turned to leave.
    The haunting melody of a viola resonated through the mansion. Samone stopped and cocked an ear.
    “That is one of the servants,” Claudius supplied. “He enjoys the viola when he is not working and the master is away. Something about the acoustics of the house when no one is here.”
    “He is very good. What is that tune called?”
    Claudius listened a moment and replied, “I believe it is The Nightingale and the Lark .”
    “It’s lovely. Good evening once again, Claudius.”
    The party sat at a table in one of the nicer inns of the district. Each sipped at their preferred drinks while waiting for their meal. Nearby, a minstrel played a mandolin and sang for the crowd.
    “This is getting us nowhere,” Samone complained. “We haven’t searched half the homes on the list and too many of the occupants fled after the attack for fear that someone is targeting the nobles.”
    “We will get an early start on the morrow. If it turns up nothing, we will formulate a new plan,” Charles said in his baritone voice.
    Samone turned to the singer and asked, “Do you know The Nightingale and the Lark ?”
    “A classic, milady, and a fine choice,” the bard returned with a smile and began to play.
    Despite playing on a mandolin, the song translated to the instrument well and Samone found herself humming along as the food was served. The serving woman set the plates before the crew then set a package wrapped in a sheet of cloth next to Samone.
    “What is this?” the paladin asked, looking at the parcel.
    “A gentleman asked me to give it to you. He said he thought you might be looking for it,” the woman answered.
    “What man?”
    The serving woman looked around. “He seems to be gone now. I don’t know who he was. I didn’t recognize him.”
    “What did he look like?” Samone asked.
    “It was hard to tell. He wore a hooded cloak, but from what I could see, he was quite handsome. I am sure he will be calling on you again,” the woman said with a knowing smile.
    Samone slowly removed the cloth from the object and stared.
    “What is it, girl?” Griff asked.
    “It’s a mask of some sort,” Samone replied.
    Charles leaned over for a better look. “It looks like some kind of bird.”
    “A lark!” Samone cried out.
    “What’s the matter? You