The land of Notrot was beautiful.
Nature always seemed tender and fresh. The trees leaned over the road. Grass grew tall on the sides. Wildflowers sprinkled the fields with soft colors.
The brigade galloped. Hooves struck the damp earth. Elector watched the meadow. Beyond the hill there was more meadow. Beyond that hill, still more meadow. The hills followed one after another like green waves.
"Where are the crops?" Elector asked himself in a low voice. "The wheat and the barley?"
His doubts did not fully materialize. Rounding a bend, the Ashworth estate appeared among the trees.
It was a small territory. A wooden gate. A dirt path leading to the main house. Empty fields on either side, without crops, without animals.
He presented a parchment to be allowed through. The servant read it twice. Opened the gate.
Only he, the sergeant, and the cleric entered. The other soldiers waited outside, dismounted, leaning on their lances.
The servants guided them to the lord of the house.
Fradric's father was outside, reclining in a rocking chair under a tree. His eyes were closed. His hands crossed over his stomach. A blanket over his legs.
Elector and the others dismounted. Their boots sank into the soft earth.
"Lord Ashworth?" Elector called. "Are you there?"
The man opened his eyes. He saw the armor, the cloaks, the harnessed horses. He was surprised. He sat up in his chair.
"Oh," he said, his voice hoarse. "A knight of the king. To what do I owe the honor?"
"I don't wish to disturb you," Elector replied, inclining his head. "But I need to complete the biographical record of your son."
"Biographical?" The old man frowned. "Has something happened?"
"Not that I know of. May we speak of it?"
"Yes, but let me fetch my wife. Come."
He rose with effort. The rocking chair creaked as it emptied. He walked toward the house door, slowly, leaning on the frame.
They all entered.
---
They gathered in the drawing room.
It was a spacious room, with dark wooden furniture and lace curtains. A fire burned in the hearth, though outside the sun still warmed. Portraits of ancestors hung on the walls. On one of them, beside the window, there was a painting that did not match the rest.
Lady Ashworth arrived at the table distraught. Her hands trembled.
"Oh, it was true," she said, without greeting. "A knight has come!"
"It is nothing so serious," Elector said, unrolling a parchment on the table. "It is merely protocol."
"No one has ever come before," the lady pressed her hands on the tablecloth. "And that armor... something must have happened."
Elector was beginning to grow frustrated. His jaw tightened.
"The king requires all records to be formalized," he said, pointing to the parchment. "Please. We are in times of crisis. It is normal to demand order in all departments."
The woman remained tense. But she sat down.
"Very well."
"It is something very simple," Elector continued, taking his quill. "I just need to know what your son did in recent years."
The mother looked at the ceiling. Her lips moved without speaking. Then she lowered her gaze.
"Mmm... so many things have happened."
"Let us start when he became independent."
"Ah, yes," the mother said, releasing the tablecloth. "I remember it well. He did not become independent. He left our house on his wedding day. With Lady Edyth."
The father nodded from his armchair.
"Yes. We financed a piece of land for them, between the two families."
Elector began to write. The quill scratched the parchment.
"Edyth... what was she like? What is she like?"
The mother smiled. A pleasant memory.
"She was the daughter chosen for this arrangement. But do not think we chose just anyone to marry my son."
"We made sure she was a good girl," the father added.
"Yes," the mother said. "She was a well-bred woman. Educated. And of age. At fifteen, she already had to settle down."
Elector nodded. He made a note.
"I see. So they moved. What happened after?"
The mother stopped smiling.
"Well, her first days were gloomy. Edyth isolated herself. She did not want to speak to anyone. Not even to Fradric. She had us worried. People talked."
"And what did you do?"
"I suggested they go see doctors," the father said. "But no one knew what was wrong with her. They went to several neighboring kingdoms. But still they found nothing."
The mother took up the story.
"They were gone a long time. He went to look for them," she pointed to the father. "According to the letters they sent us, they had stopped in Elionor."
Elector went still. His pen stopped over the parchment.
"Why there?"
"I do not know," the father said. "But it seems Edyth was happy there. It was an ordeal. It is a horrible place."
The man began to stammer. His hands trembled on the armrest.
"Th-there were lizard men. Trees that talked. And... and I would swear the very geography moved. As if the landscape changed shape."
He relaxed a little. Took a breath.
"I am lucky I did not get lost."
"But you found them."
"Yes. In a village. With people! I did not expect there to be people there. They looked well. They said they would come to visit us. That the land we bought for them they would inhabit in their old age."
The lady interrupted. Her voice broke.
"But here is what worries me. Fradric has not returned. Only Edyth. He is raising horses, according to Edyth. But he does not answer my letters."
"In that place," the father said, "I doubt anyone would want to go deliver a letter."
He reclined again in his armchair.
"Anyway. I noticed an improvement in her. She was... bolder. With ideas. Projects. She was no longer the calm, proper fifteen-year-old girl I had known."
"She matured," Elector said.
"Yes. And she brought us gifts. For instance, she made us a painting. I did not know she painted so well."
Elector felt a chill. Just thinking about it.
He turned his head toward where the mother pointed.
He saw the painting.
It was a forest at night. The trees rose black against a starless sky. Among the leaves, a cabin of dark wood. On its door, a spiral was carved. There were no windows. No path. Only the forest and the cabin and the spiral turning upon itself.
"What is that place?" Elector asked. His voice came out harsher than he intended.
"Edyth told me it was a place she saw," the mother answered, shrugging. "And she liked the cabin. That is all."
Elector looked at the cleric.
He was pale. A bead of sweat ran down his face. He did not take his eyes off the painting.