The first warnings of the raiders came too late.
The Castle of Lord Salam-Dir would fall to the merciless bandits before the night was over. There was little that could have been done as plans made long ago were not to be stopped. There was a Festival and Tourney being held by a Lord several day’s journey from the Salam-Dir castle. Less than forty people were left to defend the keep because of it. Most of the people left in the mains were too old or frail to travel to the Festival and so did not defend the huge castle and keep for long. The only warrior there was the Lord Salam-Dir himself who had stayed to see to his recently deceased wife’s mourning vigil.
Moonless night was covering the approach of the raiders. It was only as the wave of men battered against the first gate that anyone knew anything was wrong. Peace had been across the land for over a generation. There was just the old man, who had been the gatekeeper since before the last conflict in the land, at the outer courtyard gatehouse. He was the first to die.
The raiders attacked as the Lord Salam-Dir was preparing to vigil the night over his wife’s body. The still form of his wife was draped with a simple pale linen shroud on the altar. The jewels he had given her over the years glinted through the thin fabric in the candle light, bright against her grayed skin. The Chamber of Death was in the lower part of the main tower below the noble family’s apartments. It was mid summer and even the inner stone of the castle radiated the heat of the cloudless skies, but to Vami Salam-Dir, the cold of winter and death had settled into him even before he heard the scratch on the door. »Read More