Sir Jeffrey Trailson, Knight of the Land, was shown into the castle by a man in an ornate blue coat. He had woken later than he intended and found that Karen had already left, but his armour was dry from the rainstorm the night before and he had come straight to the castle as soon as he was dressed.
It was a large and impressive building. Whilst not quite the size of the Royal Palace in which he had been raised to full knighthood (and fucked a princess, twice), it was far from small. Then again, the size of the town attached to the castle suggested that the duchy was very important in the queendom - it would not have surprised Jeffrey if he had been told that Lady Brenwick was only just below the Queen herself in seniority.
Jeffrey suddenly realised that the man was talking to him. "The Duchess is very busy at the moment, so she may have time only to hear your news and send you away. Please do not take this as an insult to your status, Sir Knight."
"I will not," he smiled back, although he was confused. Why would she be waiting for news from him? The only explanation to Jeffrey was that she was keeping her request for aid secret from even her own courtiers.
Eventually they came to a large door, which the man pushed open and waved Jeffrey inside. He did so. Beyond was a tall and long room with light that streamed in through glass windows high in the walls. Ahead of him was a large chair, not quite a throne, on which sat a beautiful woman.
Jeffrey guessed that this was Lady Brenwick. Her blonde hair was worn up in an elaborate style atop her head and her blue eyes regarded him brightly. The small beauty spot beneath her mouth on the left-hand side of her face made her look every inch the gorgeous noble and Jeffrey guessed that she was in her early-thirties. He placed her at about 5'6", although he could not be sure since she was sitting down. She wore an elaborate green gown that highlighted her slender and lovely body but also drew attention to the immense cleavage of what were clearly impressively huge breasts. Jeffrey chuckled as he wondered if she used to same tailor as Princess Isabel.
Still, there was no time to stare at the Duchess' tits when he had been called to her aid. He knelt, showing fealty to her, and she laughed sweetly.
"Stand up, Sir Knight. I do not care for people prostrating themselves in front of me." She smiled at him, not unkindly. Then she turned to the courtier who had shown Jeffrey in, and politely ushered him out. Jeffrey was pleased to see that she did not treat those beneath her in rank with contempt, as he had heard some nobles did. She actually seemed very polite.
Jeffrey stood quickly, nodding to her. "Very well, Lady Brenwick. I am Sir Jeffrey Trailson, Knight of the Land. I have been sent by the royal court as a response to your call for aid."
"Excellent, Sir Jeffrey Trailson. May I call you Jeffrey?"
He nodded. "Of course, Lady Brenwick."
"Good. Though in return you must call me Catherine, of course." She grinned.
Jeffrey was stunned. This Duchess was not what he was expecting at all. Still, she seemed very pleasant.
She stood and moved over to stare at a tapestry on the far wall. "So, what do you know of my predicament?"
"Very little, Lady Brenwick... er, Catherine."
She nodded. "Then word has not got out." She turned to face him then, sadness in her eyes. "Tell me what you know of the orc wars, Jeffrey."
Jeffrey recited what he had been taught as a child. Half a century ago the orcish kingdoms had united and poured from the mountains under the rule of a tyrannical king. The queendom fought many battles against them to keep them at bay, until at last a young mage had thought of a cunning plan. Knowing it was their leader and not the orcs themselves who were evil, she had disguised herself as a slave and struck down the emperor of the orcs. The war was ended immediately and there had been no battles since.
"You know your history," Lady Brenwick smiled. "That is indeed accurate. As you may know, we border the orcish mountain kingdoms here. What most do not know outside of this part of the realm is that we have our own treaty with the nearest tribe."
"I did not know that, Catherine."
She smiled. "It has been in action for decades, since the end of the wars. We actually share trade with the Tribe of the Blue Sword, and have enjoyed peace for almost two generations. This hinges on one very important matter."
Catherine whirled away then, stalking back to her large chair. "Every year, the Tribe of the Blue Sword send a delegation, wielding a sceptre that was crafted for them by our most famous blacksmith, Helga Otrasgen. In return, they crafted a sceptre for us, shaped like a twisted length of wood, engraved with orcish script and then blackened until it was dark as night. It is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, Jeffrey. It was gifted to my grandmother, then passed to my father, and then finally to me. Every year those sceptres are crossed in this castle, and the Tribe Chieftain and myself renew our vows of peace."
She sighed loudly, staring at him earnestly. "That meeting, Sir Jeffrey Trailson, is imminent. The orcish envoy will arrive any day now. And somebody has stolen our sceptre."
Jeffrey gasped. "Stolen?"
"Yes," the Duchess responded. Anger burned in her eyes, though Jeffrey knew it was directed at the thieves, not him. "I do not know who precisely, though I have a good idea. A bandit group act in the local area, and have been growing ever more bold as the months have passed. Our guard have had no luck in tracking them, but I am fairly certain they are the thieves of the sceptre. I believe they are trying to make a point that it is they, and not myself or my guards, who control this part of the realm. It is my hope that a single knight might fare better in locating them. They cannot trace your steps so easily, Jeffrey."
"You would like me to find and return the sceptre, or bring the bandits to justice? The two may not go hand in hand."
Catherine sighed. "I know, Jeffrey. You are to return the sceptre. That is your priority. If the orcs get here and we have lost their sceptre, they will see it as an affront to their tribe and... well, that doesn't really bear thinking about. For the good of this queendom, we need to find that sceptre. The bandits are a distant second in your thoughts."
Jeffrey nodded. "I swear it, Lady Brenwick, Duchess of these lands, that I will find and return your sceptre, or die trying."
"Oh, no dying," the Duchess laughed softly. "I don't want that. Make sure you succeed, and bring the sceptre back to me. Alive, Jeffrey."
He grinned. "Of course."
"Now, I don't mean to hurry you from my castle, but I have matters to attend to and now so do you. Please, Sir Knight, find that sceptre."
Jeffrey bowed, and strode from the room. He knew his purpose now, and would do his utmost to find the sceptre. Outside, the man who had shown him in led him back to the front of the castle, where Jeffrey thanked him and moved off back into the town. Soon, he found himself at the main gates.
"Jeffrey! So there you are," said a voice from above. He glanced up to see Karen stood on the walkway over the gates, smiling down at him. As today was far warmer, she was not wearing her cloak, and he delighted in the sight of her in her uniform "Wait there. I will join you in a second." Moments later, she was emerging from the doorway that was set into the side of the stone arch.
