The Frontline - Part 7

"Good evening, Captain," the guards on duty said, as they reached the second floor. "Lord Blackwell is expecting you. Just down the corridors, Sers."

"Very well," Lombard said, though from the way his feet had already been turned in that direction, Oliver had a feeling that Lombard knew exactly where he was meant to go, without even having asked.

He took a second to compose himself, as they drew up outside of a thick wooden door, like a miniature castle gate. He gave Oliver a stern look, but said nothing. Whatever that look meant, Oliver wasn't sure, but he had a feeling it was another warning that he ought to be on his best behaviour.

Then, with all the composure in the world, Lombard gave the door two swift knocks, neither too hard, nor too soft. He announced himself with firm politeness.

The murmurings of conversation inside drifted to a quiet halt, and then a stern reply acknowledged them. "Come in," came Lord Blackwell's booming voice.