Lucard stopped behind a dead tree outside the manor wall. He watched.
There were guards on the front path, near the side gate, and along the inner garden wall. Ravencroft was afraid. But the pattern of fear was not even. Most guards were not protecting the front entrance. They were gathered toward the western side of the estate. That was strange.
Lucard narrowed his eyes.
The western side had a long building attached to the main manor. Yesterday, it had looked quiet. Now there were patrols there. Not only normal guards. Some were mages. Two wore gray cloaks with bone markings. One man carried a horn at his waist, ready to call for help. Another stood near a side door with a crossbow aimed toward the roofline.
Lucard did not move right away. He counted the torches first. Then he counted the guards. After that, he watched their feet, their eyes, and the distance between each patrol. Fear always changed how men guarded a place. Brave men guarded the door. Frightened men guarded every shadow. These men were frightened, but they were also protecting something specific. Their bodies turned toward the western building again and again, even when their eyes looked elsewhere.
That part of the house was important now.
It had to be the place where the Velkhur elder was staying.
Or perhaps the place where they were waiting for him.
Lucard studied the patrol route for several minutes. The guards moved in a pattern. Four men walked along the garden path. Two stopped near the corner every thirty breaths. One mage looked up from time to time, but only toward the main roof, not the lower servant roof. The side wall had an old ivy growth climbing over the stone. Most of it was dead, but the thick roots still held.
Lucard moved when the patrol turned.
He crossed the open ground in silence and reached the outer wall. His fingers touched the old stone. He pulled himself up smoothly and landed on top without making more than a whisper. One guard below turned his head, but Lucard had already lowered his body behind the stone edge.
The guard looked around.
Nothing.
He cursed softly and continued walking.
Lucard waited until the man moved away, then dropped inside the estate.
He landed behind a row of dead shrubs. The smell of grave soil became heavier. Somewhere nearby, ravens cried from the roof of an old tower. The sound fit the house too well.
Lucard crossed the garden.
He moved between shadows, low walls, and statues of black birds. One statue had lost its head. Another had moss covering its wings. House Ravencroft liked symbols of death and patience. Lucard thought it was fitting. They had the death part. They lacked the patience to survive a better hunter.
A servant walked by carrying a water bucket. Lucard stepped behind a stone column and let him pass. The servant was trembling so badly that water spilled with every step. He kept looking over his shoulder as if the walls themselves might accuse him of something. When he reached the side door, another servant opened it only a little, pulled him inside quickly, and shut it again. They were not only afraid of enemies outside. They were afraid of the people inside the manor too.
That was useful information.
The whole house was afraid.
Lucard reached the western building.
It was long and narrow compared to the main manor. A hallway building. Its stone walls were old, and tall windows lined the upper part. Most of those windows were narrow, made more for light and air than for people. But some windows were large enough for someone thin and skilled to look through, maybe even enter if needed.
The guards were thicker near the lower doors.
That meant the roof was safer.
Lucard looked up.
The roof edge was high, but not impossible. There were carved stone lines along the wall and old water channels running down from the roof. He waited until a patrol passed, then jumped. His fingers caught the stone line. He pulled himself higher, placed one foot on a narrow crack, and climbed without sound.
Halfway up, a mage below looked toward the wall.
Lucard froze.
The mage frowned, staring into the darkness.
Lucard held his breath. Blood Concealment slowed his presence further. His body became part of the cold stone shadow. The mage looked for several breaths, then shook his head and turned away.
Lucard continued climbing. He reached the roof and rolled onto it silently.
From above, he could see more of the estate. The main manor was lit in many places. Guards moved near the eastern courtyard. A carriage waited near the front entrance, but it was not Ravencroft’s. It had no family mark visible from this angle, which meant someone had covered it on purpose. That made Lucard more certain.
Someone important had arrived quietly.
He moved along the roof.
The tiles were old, so he placed his feet carefully. One wrong step would crack a tile and bring attention. He moved like a black cat crossing a noble’s dining table while everyone argued about inheritance. Slow, silent, and extremely unwanted if noticed.
He reached the place above the long hallway.
Voices came from below, but the roof muffled them. He could not hear words clearly yet. He crawled toward a high window near the middle of the building. Warm light came from inside. The window was slightly open at the top to let smoke and air escape.
Lucard lowered himself carefully.
His fingers held the stone edge above the window. His feet found a narrow ledge. He leaned just enough to look through the glass.
Inside was not a small room.
It was a long hall.
The floor was covered in dark rugs. Torches burned along the walls. Ravencroft banners hung between tall shelves filled with old bones, sealed jars, and grave records. A long table stood in the center of the hall. Several people were gathered inside. Lucard could see movement, shadows, and the edge of a red cloak near the far side.
The guards outside had not been protecting an empty hallway.
Lucard narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the window.
Then he looked inside.