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They got to a heavy wooden door at the very end of the hallway.

Ian stopped. He reached out and opened the door for his master. Then, Ian turned around. He stood guard outside the room. He placed his hands firmly on the hilts of the two sharp daggers strapped to his leather belt. His eyes scanned the empty hallway. He was ready to kill anyone who tried to interrupt them.

As Derek entered inside the room, the door closed behind him with a soft click.

The room was small and bare. There was a simple wooden table and two chairs in the center. A single lantern sat on the table, casting a warm yellow light over the face of the man waiting inside.

The man was sitting in one of the chairs. He wore dirty, worn-out traveler’s clothes. His face was covered in a thick, ssy beard, and a mole on his eye. He looked exhausted, terrified, and broken.

When he saw Derek enter, the man imdiately stood up. He stepped away from the table and bowed deeply, bending his waist until his head almost touched his knees.

"Your Grace," Captain Nigel said. His voice was rough and shaking. "We et again."

Derek looked at the man. Captain Nigel used to be a proud, strong soldier in the Eudorian army. Now, he looked like a hunted animal.

Captain Nigel kept his head bowed. "Thank you for the dicine during the plague," he said, his voice filled with deep gratitude.

"Months ago, when the sickness swept through the lower city of Strathmore, the royal doctors refused to treat us. But you sent your own dicine. It saved my wife and my child. I owe you my life, Grand Duke."

Derek’s face remained serious. He appreciated the gratitude, but he had not co here for thanks. He had co here for the truth. He had waited months to find this man.

"Stand up, Captain," Derek said gently, but his voice was firm.

Captain Nigel slowly straightened his back. He looked at Derek with fearful, tired eyes.

Derek walked closer to the table. He looked directly into Nigel’s eyes. The ti for hiding was over.

"Tell ," Derek demanded, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone. "Tell what truly happened at Strathmore during the war with the rca. I want to know everything."

Captain Nigel swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. His hands began to tremble. Rembering that night was like waking up a terrible nightmare.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He looked at the wooden table, unable to et Derek’s intense gaze.

Nigel confessed everything.

"After the war," Nigel began, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Eudorian army won. We fought hard. We bled. But we won under the brilliant guidance of Commander Theodore."

Derek’s chest tightened at the ntion of that na. Commander Theodore, his brother. A hero who had died a sudden, mysterious death on the battlefield. The official report said it was an ambush by the remaining enemy soldiers, but Derek had never believed it.

"We were exhausted," Nigel continued, his eyes unfocusing as he rembered the past. "We had marched for days without proper sleep. We decided to seek shelter at Strathmore before we continued our long journey back to the capital of Eudora."

Nigel looked up at Derek.

"The High Cathedral of Strathmore offered us hospitality," Nigel explained. "Father Cielo, the High Priest at that ti was bedridden, so he sent soone else in his stead and opened the heavy doors of the church. He gave us hot food. He gave us wine. He said it was an act of appreciation for saving Strathmore and all of Eudora from the cruel rcians. We trusted them. It was a holy place. We thought we were safe."

Nigel’s voice cracked. Tears filled his eyes.

"But Commander Theodore," Nigel said, his voice trembling violently, "Commander Theodore was a careful man. He did not sleep. He patrolled the grounds of the cathedral at night. And... he saw what he wasn’t supposed to see."

Derek took a step forward. He leaned over the table, his eyes burning with an intense need for the truth. His heart hamred in his chest.

"What did he see?" Derek asked, his voice tight. "What did my brother find?"

Captain Nigel looked Derek in the eyes. The fear on his face was replaced by a deep, hollow sadness.

"The High Cathedral of Strathmore," Nigel replied slowly, "was holding weapons. Thousands of swords, spears, and shields hidden beneath the floors. They were holding chests of gold and massive supplies of grain."

Derek frowned. "Weapons in a church?"

"Yes," Nigel nodded. "For a revolt. A massive rebellion sponsored by Prince Liam."

The words hung in the air like heavy smoke. Derek stood completely still.

"It is the house of worship," Nigel explained bitterly. "It is the holiest place in the region. No one, not even the King’s inspectors, could suspect such a thing was going on there. No one searches a church for weapons. It was the perfect hiding spot. And Commander Theodore stumbled right upon it. He found the secret vault."

Nigel wiped a tear from his scarred cheek.

"He knew it was treason," Nigel said. "He was going to send a ssage to the King the next day as we leave for Eudora. But Adams found out. He imdiately alerted Prince Liam."

Nigel took a shuddering breath. The mory was too painful.

"Prince Liam did not hesitate," Nigel cried. "He sent his secret assassins. That night, while we were sleeping, trusting the priests... the Thompson army was massacred."

Derek’s breath stopped. He felt a cold chill spread through his entire body.

"It was a slaughter," Nigel wept, covering his face with his dirty hands. "They ca in the dark. They slit the throats of the n in their beds. He killed the generals who stood by the Commander. He killed Commander Theodore."

Derek closed his eyes. He pictured his brother, a proud and honorable man, dying not in a glorious battle, but betrayed brutally in the dark by cowards in a church.

"And the rest?" Derek asked, his voice shaking with a rage he could barely control. "What happened to the soldiers who survived?"

Nigel dropped his hands. He looked at Derek with imnse sha.

"He spared the rest," Nigel confessed, his voice breaking. "He spared those of us who surrendered. We had swords at our throats. He told us we would live if we swore absolute allegiance to him. If we promised to keep his secret. We were afraid, Your Grace. We wanted to see our families again. We swore the oath."

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