Camilla slipped silently through the porte-cochere and in to the inner keep. She found herself in a large room which must once of have been an entry hall. Holes in the ceiling, and carven arrow slits in the walls would have made this chamber a death trap for men attempting to force the inner walls. At the end of the chamber was a large door of golden oak, polished to a sheen and bound with intricately worked metal. Two figures flanked the door. One was a marble worked effigy of The Lady of the Lake. Tileans had a natural contempt for Brettonian artisanship but even Camilla had to admit that the statue was heart stoppingly beautiful. The other figure was a somber looking knight with a beard of steel grey. Camilla was unsure of how old the man was but he had a vitality and energy about him that was almost unnatural. He wore a suit of simple armor and no surcoat or livery and although he had no sword there was an axe propped against the wall that would have done a Norscan Reaver proud. 

“Ah, visitors,” he said, looking up from an illuminated manuscript he had been reading. Camilla who had made no sound, looked slightly affronted that she had been noticed.

“Two of you is it?” he went on in a friendly tone and Camilla glanced behind her to see Cydric had joined her, clearly realising that stealth was a lost cause at this point.

“We have come for the sake of the quest,” Camilla declared, walking up the hall towards the old knight.

“Ah.. yes, people genuinely do,” the Knight said with a sigh.

“I am Sir Cavic,” he said with a formal bow. Camilla performed a slight curtsey, looking completely ridiculous in her vandalized red dress. 

“Camilla and Cydric,” she said with deliberate lack of formality. The knight watched her approach for a moment and then put his eyes on Cydric, clearly measuring the Imperial as a worthy warrior.

“The quest is no place for a woman,” he said, his eyes traveling to the sword at her waist.

“Even one armed as you are.”

“Right because you men have been having such great luck with it?” Camilla asked innocently. Cavic paused, his mouth opening and closing for  a few moments before he threw his head back and laughed.

“Well spoken m’lady,” the Knight declared.

“What do you know of this quest?” he asked assuming a more formal stance before them.

“Only that some evil lurks at the heart of the keep,” Camilla said. By now Cydric had reached her and stood by her side, watching the knight with his wolfish eyes.

“An evil, yes…” the knight said his face grim.

“Born of foul magic employed by the vain and foolish, a splinter in the festering wound that ails Aquitaine,” the knight intoned sonorously.

“So you know what it is? Cydric asked in Riekspiel, clearly following enough of the Brettonian to get by. To Camilla’s considerable surprise the knight switched to the Imperial tongue in a heartbeat, his accent sight compared to other Brettonian’s she had met.

“I do Sir Knight,” Cavic confirmed with a nod of his head.

“Well? What is it?” Camilla demanded, folding her arms beneath her breasts. Cavic looked apologetic.

“I cannot tell you, m’lady,” the Knight appologised, bowing slightly.

“Cannot, or will not?” Camilla demanded. In response the knight turned to the statue of the Lady.

“I have made a vow not to speak of it. Knowing too much might doom you, if you are not doomed already,” the knight explained.

“Myrmidia’s Tits is there something in the water that makes everyone so difficult to deal with,” Camilla complained. Cydric swallowed a laugh with an odd snorting sound.

“You Imperial’s are a direct people,” the knight remarked. Camilla didn’t choose to object to being lumped in with the Empire in this respect.

“Much of what we do is out of habit, but I assure you, in this case the facts could lead  to your undoing, as they have to so many others who have known or suspected them.” Camilla shrugged her slim shoulders. The situation made less sense to her by the moment, but the longer they wasted here the further ahead of them Keffman would draw. Their slain friends could not rest easy while the wizard lived.

“Fine whatever, we are going in,” Camilla declared. The knight raised a hand in bar and Cydric’s hand went to the hilt of his sword instinctively. With a slow motion, obviously intended not to seem threatening the knight drew a golden key from his armor, hitherto suspended by a chain around his neck.

“Are you both here of your own free will?” Cavic asked formally. Cydric and Camilla both nodded.

“Enter then, the door shall not open for you while the evil resides within. The Lady be with you.” He turned and placed the key in the large ornate lock and with a whisper of long stale air the doors began to swing open onto a darkened hallway.