Chapter 346: The Governors Of Harrowhold

The forest road had stretched on for a short while, a winding ribbon of dirt cutting through ancient, towering trees. But eventually, the dense canopy began to thin, and the terrain shifted from wild wilderness to cultivated land.

Darion pulled the horse to a slow trot as they crested a final hill.

Harrowhold spread out before them, bathed in the late morning sun. It was a stark contrast to Vrethka. Where Vrethka had been a compact, brutalist military camp, Harrowhold was a true territory. It was larger, more developed, with sprawling fields and a massive, thick stone wall that surrounded the main settlement. Rising above the center of the town was a fortified castle, its towers piercing the sky.

Marrick leaned forward in the saddle, a sudden, sharp breath escaping him. "We’re here."

Darion studied the castle from a distance. He didn’t immediately kick the horse forward. They didn’t know what kind of reception they would get.

Marrick might be the rightful king, but the men currently controlling Harrowhold had been installed by Dross. They had likely spent the last few weeks bleeding the territory dry and establishing their own power base.

Darion pulled the horse off the main road, guiding it into the shade of a thick grove of trees just out of sight of the main gates. He dismounted, and Marrick followed.

"We need to find out what’s happening inside first," Darion said.

He reached into his inventory and summoned Edric Vorne. The elite undead commander materialized in a flash of green light.

"Stay here. Protect the horse," Darion ordered.

Edric gave a silent, stiff nod, taking the reins from Marrick.

"Come on," Darion said to Marrick, turning toward the castle. "We’re going in on foot."

They moved around the outer wall rather than approaching the main entrance. Darion kept them low, away from the main roads and the patrol routes. Marrick, to his credit, knew the area well. He pointed out a less-used section of the castle’s perimeter, a blind spot near the back where the wall met a thick patch of briars.

They reached the back and Darion peeked around the corner.

Guards were everywhere. Patrols moved through the compound at regular intervals, their armor clinking. Several guards stood near entrances, while others walked between buildings. There were enough men that simply walking inside would draw immediate attention.

Darion sighed. ’Of course.’ He didn’t want to start a bloodbath without knowing exactly what they were dealing with.

He summoned his undead bird. The small creature appeared quietly on his shoulder. Darion activated Borrowed Sight.

His vision shifted.

Suddenly, he was looking through the bird’s eyes. The world became sharper, wider, the colors slightly muted. He guided the bird over the walls and into the castle compound. He searched for the people currently running Harrowhold. At first, he saw exactly what he expected. Guards. Servants. Storage buildings. Armed men.

Then the bird reached one of the larger buildings in the center of the compound. Darion paused.

Inside was a completely different scene.

The men who were supposed to be managing Harrowhold were gathered together with numerous women. They were drinking, laughing, and partying instead of dealing with the territory. Cups and bottles were scattered across tables. Food had been left everywhere. Music and loud laughter filled the room. Some were flirting with the women accompanying them, while others were simply drinking themselves senseless.

Darion stared through the bird’s eyes. ’Seriously?’

These were supposed to be the people running an entire kingdom. Outside, guards were working. Inside, the men in charge were treating the castle like their personal playground.

Darion slowly closed his eyes. "Of course."

Marrick looked at him. "What is it?"

Darion dismissed Borrowed Sight. "They’re having a wonderful time."

Marrick didn’t understand. Darion explained what he saw. Marrick’s expression gradually became more irritated. Darion, however, simply sighed. ’Well... this might actually be easier than I thought.’

Darion looked toward the castle walls. Going through the gates would mean fighting guards. Climbing the walls would take time. But then he remembered something. The Froods. His newest additions.

He summoned one. The massive, gorilla-like creature appeared beside him, its sharp claws digging into the dirt, its sharp teeth bared. Marrick looked at it with obvious surprise.

He summoned another Frood for Marrick. The two creatures crouched.

"Hold on tight," Darion warned.

Darion grabbed onto his Frood. Marrick did the same, hesitantly gripping the creature’s thick, muscular back.

THOOM!

Both Froods launched themselves upward. The ground fell away in a blur. They cleared the outer wall in a single, enormous leap, sailing over the stone defenses as if they were stepping over a puddle.

Darion landed inside the castle compound with a heavy thud, the Frood absorbing the impact. Marrick landed nearby, slightly less gracefully, stumbling off the creature’s back.

Darion looked around. "Much easier."

The two Froods stood beside them like monstrous mounts. Guards nearby immediately noticed them. Their expressions shifted from boredom to absolute horror.

"What the —?!"

More guards began turning toward them, drawing their swords. Darion didn’t bother hiding anymore. He and Marrick walked toward the building where the current rulers were gathered.

"Allow us," Marrick said loudly, stepping forward. The guards froze, recognizing the face of the prince. "We are here to reclaim the throne."

The guards looked at Marrick, then at the two massive Froods, then at Darion, who stood there with a hand resting casually on his sword. They looked at each other, utterly appalled by the undead beasts. Slowly, the guards lowered their weapons and stepped aside.

The doors opened.

The laughter inside slowly died. The men turned toward the entrance. They saw Darion. They saw Marrick. The atmosphere changed instantly.

One of the men stood up, his face flushed with wine. "Who are you?"

Another man leaned forward, knocking over a bottle. "How did you even get access here so easily? Aren’t those guards doing their—"

Darion looked around at the room. The men were clearly annoyed rather than frightened. They didn’t seem to understand the situation yet. Darion stepped forward.

"I’m here to take Harrowhold," he said.

Silence.

He gestured toward Marrick. "And I’m here to put its rightful king back on his throne."

Several men exchanged looks. One of them scoffed. "King?"

Another leaned back in his chair, a glass of wine still in his hand. Their irritation quickly replaced their surprise. One of the men finally spoke, his voice dripping with indignation.

"And who gave you permission to barge into our castle?"

Darion stared at him. The man looked genuinely offended.

"How dare you intrude on our privacy?"

Darion’s expression went completely blank. He looked around the room at the spilled wine, the half-dressed women, and the complete lack of any administrative documents. Then he looked back at the men.