Before Farris could finish, Fionn waved an arm over the box, and the iron straps pierced the wood. With another quick gesture, the wood shattered, revealing the contents inside.
Firearms. The chest contained a dozen firearms. With wooden handles and brass spouts., they were each small enough to be held on one hand. Farris passed one to Nicole, who examined it closely.
“These are mine, alright. Argyll had me manufacture more than I can count, but I always assumed they remained in Penance, though. I wonder how they made it all the way out here?”
“There were Simians here,” said Aislinn. “Most lived in peace, but there were a group that called themselves the Knights of the Wood and claimed responsibility for a great deal of crime in the city.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” said Farris. “But the Silverback often said that he had allies throughout the kingdom.”
Nicole threw Farris a glance, with narrowed eyes. Farris considered her warning for a moment, then went on anyway.
“The Silverback was planning to attack the Seachtú,” he said, presenting a firearm to the rest of the party. “It’s possible that he had allies armed and ready here, ready to attack Keep Carríga at the same time he was planning on striking Point Grey.”
“The bastard!” cried Padraig. “So, the rumours were true this whole time.” He leered at Farris, who ignored him.
“A co-ordinated attack?” cut in Fionn. “It would have forced the Crown to either spread its resources out thin to defend everywhere at once or prioritise one Seachtú over another.”
“Essentially handing whichever one lay undefended right into Argyll’s hands,” said Nicole.
“The Silverback’s reach surely knew no end,” said Farris, carefully eying an irate Padraig. “He’d often balance so many plans and schemes at once, I never knew how he’d keep up with them all.” He reached into the chest. Among the firearms, was a small white satchel. He picked it up and rattled it. It gave off the sound of many tiny metal objects inside.
“Ammunition,” said Nicole. “We may find use for these. Take what you can. firearms. In the morning, I can show you all how to fire them.”
“That is a kind offer,” said Padraig. “But I’m much more comfortable with my sword, and what use would we have for these with the Firemaster at our side?”
Farris didn’t pay the others much mind, instead reaching into the chest for the last object inside. He pulled out what at first looked like a rock, but on examining it, he saw that, although made from stone, its surface was perfectly smooth. It felt like a ball used in some sort of sport, but it seemed too heavy for any practical use. He tossed it from one hand into another, gauging its weight.
“Farris, no!” cried Nicole, stepping forward. She snatched the ball from his hand. “Where did you find this?”
“Inside,” said Farris, nodding towards the chest. “With the others. What is it?”
Nicole held the ball in her hands, cradling it against her chest.
“A… weapon I developed, perhaps a year ago. I only made a few protypes, and I thought Argyll had them all destroyed.”
“A weapon?” asked Padraig. “A weapon for what?”
“It’s an explosive,” said Nicole. “Though more potent than anything ever conceived before. Inside is an array of compartments, filled with chemicals set to react with one another once they come into contact. This reaction takes the form of an explosion big enough to crack a mountain in half.”
The group fell silent. After a pause, Fionn spoke first.
“And why would Argyll have them destroyed?”
Nicole sighed. “I wish I could say that it was because I found their design inhumane. All it would take a single smuggler to plant one of these in a castle’s foundations to destroy the whole structure. But Argyll expressed another concern. With the surrounding material being simple stone, a Geomancer could crack it from afar in a fight, rendering it useless in magic warfare.”
“It makes sense then,” said Aislinn, “to bring it to Rosca Umhír. Keep Carríga had the reputation of an impenetrable fortress. If one of these things can destroy a castle, what better one to destroy than this?”
Nicole pulled off her pack and placed the stone object gently inside. “Help yourselves to the firearms, but I’ll keep this one safe.”
They then made their way to Keep Carríga, a steady stream of destruction leading them to the castle’s moat. The drawbridge was lowered, its wood cracked and splintered along the way.
“Why is the bridge lowered?” asked Padraig. “Didn’t you say your father had barricaded himself inside the keep?”
“He did,” said Aislinn, slowly. “It was lowered for me to ride out against the horde, but it was promptly raised again.”
“Perhaps your actions gave your father a change of heart,” said Farris. “Maybe more followed your heroic example and rode out too.”
Farris had no way of knowing, of course, but he reckoned it was what Aislinn needed to hear right now. But she gave no response either way and led them across bridge.
When they entered the keep, a great hall met them. Huge stone pillars held up a vaulted ceiling painted with an array of greens and browns, mimicking a forest canopy. On the wall of the far end of the hall hung a huge tapestry, depicting an army of green and red figures of green and red wielding spears. A banner flew over their heads, with a blue swan upon a black field, its majestic wings spread outwards.
“My father commissioned that,” said Aislinn. “It is meant to show how our family fought with Móráin the First in his conquest, even though House Carríga wasn’t even established back then.”
They left their mounts there in the hall, figuring the animals could do with some better shelter than the previous night. From there, Aislinn directed them to the keep’s living quarters, with Fionn and his Pyromancer’s torch leading the way. The mage also ignited torches in their sconces as they went. As with Hunter’s Den, the vast surplus of living space now meant each could have their own room. Farris found his in the keep’s eastern wing, looking out over the vast darkness of the Midlands.
He made no delay in preparing for sleep. The room was equipped with a thickly curtained four-poster bed with heavy, down bedding. His muscles sighed with relief as he lay down. For a few blissful moments, he closed his eyes, letting his body relax and rest… until he realised that he had forgotten to dampen the room’s torch. Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of bed. But as he did, there was a gentle knock on the door.
“Yes?” said Farris, his heart racing. “Come in.”
Nicole stepped through the door, slowly, avoiding Farris’s eyes.
“Your room is very nice,” she said. Her demeanour seemed far different from the last time she paid Farris a late-night visit, but he dared not speculate as to why.
“And isn’t yours?” he said. “They should have given you the countess’s quarters.”
“Mine’s dark and cold,” she said. “And not as large.”
“You can stay here, if you want.” Farris barely realised the words as they escaped his lips.
