Chapter 430 — They're Here

"In the barracks below the outer wall," the knight answered. "We haven't let them into the city—and a squad of soldiers is watching them."

Sir Maqi gave a barely perceptible nod. That was necessary caution.

The Cecilians had clearly sealed off the south. At least in the buffer zone between Boulder Fortress and the southern border, Cecil picket lines were everywhere. Even the experienced scouts sent out from the fortress could not break through that cordon. For anyone to escape from the south at such a time... however you looked at it, it was deeply suspect.

"Bring them to the main hall," Sir Maqi decided quickly, and glanced back at the southern nobles who had gradually gathered in the hall. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you all to come—perhaps at last we shall have definite news from the south."

Soon Sir Maqi and the southern nobles had come to the main hall of the keep. Shortly after they entered, taking their seats on the raised dais, a small squad of soldiers led in several persons in rags, covered in wounds.

Those few had plainly been through an ordeal: clothes torn, bodies filthy, cuts and bruises everywhere. Their wretched appearance could not but remind the southern nobles present of their own state not long ago. Sir Maqi, too, sighed to himself, then spoke: "Who are you? You come from the Glan domain?"

Most of the ragged folk wore looks of fear and tension. Only one stood calm at the center—a tall, middle-aged man who, as though he had not heard Sir Maqi at all, turned his head this way and that, as if searching the hall for someone. At last his gaze fell upon Lady Ropeni Glan. At once the man bowed deeply to the viscountess, his voice choked with tears: "My lady, at last I have found you!"

Ropeni Glan recognized the man as well. She rose from her seat, her voice full of disbelief: "That's my steward!"

"My lady, are you certain?" Sir Margee gave the ragged, dirt-smeared middle-aged man a doubtful look. "He truly is your steward?"

"Of course I am certain," Ropeni Glan answered at once, sweeping her gaze over every soul present. "I have not touched a single drop of wine!"

"Very well, I understand," Sir Margee nodded, then turned to the middle-aged man standing below the steps. "Master steward, have you brought word from the south?!"

"They are coming! Mistress, my lords, the Cecil men are coming!" The steward wore an anguished look, his voice steeped in terror. "They have already taken Glan Castle, and they have taken Konsko and the Karol region as well. They will be here soon!"