“Those in the brown robes are purifiers,” Rezkin replied.
As they filed into the yard, the mercenaries partially blocked their view of the approaching convoy.
Kai hummed under his breath. “It is unusual to see a dergmyer on patrol.”
Rezkin stepped away from the window and turned to see Wesson staring toward the blocked window. The young mage’s expressive face bore a mixture of fear and anger.
“You should stay as far from them as possible. We do not know how effective your amulet will be against whatever method they use to identify the talented.”
“Then we should test it,” Wesson said.
Rezkin glimpsed the large patrol. “This is not the best time.”
Wesson said, “What? We should wait until we are confined to a city, surrounded by people?”
It was completely unlike Wesson to so openly express his disapproval of Rezkin’s decisions, but Rezkin knew the mage was sensitive about the issue. Rezkin glanced toward Minder Finwy who stood silently watching from the doorway that led to the next room and then looked back to Wesson. “If we test it, and it does not work, we will have to kill everyone out there—the purifiers, the soldiers, and the mercenaries. Can you live with that?”
Wesson turned away and huffed in frustration. “No, I do not want that.”
Kai said, “We have trouble.”
“What is it?” Rezkin said as he moved back toward the window.
“They are moving in to seize Orin and his men.”
“Do you see any of ours?” Rezkin said, since Farson, Jimson, and Yserria had been keeping watch outside when the patrol arrived.
“No.”
“I pulled them back,” Farson said as he suddenly appeared from behind.
Rezkin rested a hand on Brandt’s shoulder. “Keep an eye out the window.” He turned to Farson. “Why are they detaining the mercs?
“They think we had something to do with the destruction here. Orin has been trying to explain, but the dergmyer does not believe the drauglics exist.”
Brandt called out, “They are coming.”
Rezkin wrapped his worn brown cloak around him and pulled the hood over his head. To Farson, he said, “The others?”
“They are in position.”
“In position for what?” Malcius asked. As Rezkin moved away, Malcius called, “Wait, in position for what?”
“Be quiet,” Kai huffed. “They are in position to attack if need be. Come with me, and I will position the two of you as well.”
“We are going to attack a double army patrol?” Malcius exclaimed.
“If necessary,” Kai said. “Would you rather be executed for murders you did not commit?”
Rezkin stepped through the doorway onto the front porch but stopped when he noticed a small black and brown splotched cat lying in his path. He made to step around the cat, but it gained its feet quickly then wound itself in figure eights around and between his feet. He wondered if it was a sign that he should wait. He looked to the patrol that was gathered in the road and side yard. Since he stood in the shadow cast by the setting sunlight, they had not yet seen him. Orin’s men knelt in the dirt in a line, and a soldier was preparing to bind their arms.
“Get them,” the dergmyer said.
Orin got to his feet and then turned toward the house. He glanced up to see Rezkin as he stepped into the shade of the porch.
“I’m s’posed to bring y’all out. They think we attacked the plantation, and they won’t listen to reason.”
“Why are they here?” Rezkin said.
“They said they was sent to investigate reports of killings and people gone missin’. They ain’t seen the drauglics yet. They says if we give up without a fight, they’ll take us back to Fort Ulep for a trial.” He glanced back to see his men kneeling in the dirt. “Between us, I don’t think they plan to wait. Yers is in good shape, mostly. I wouldn’t blame you if you take yer men and run.”
Rezkin met the mercenary’s determined gaze. “Yer prepared to die with yer men.”
Orin looked at his men again. “I must.”
“They’re yer friends then?”
“As close as I got, I guess.”
“Are you prepared to fight fer ’em?” asked Rezkin. Orin looked at him in confusion. Rezkin said, “Yer not supposed to fight unless ya have to, but yer not supposed to get captured or die neither. You protect yerself first, except when it comes to yer friends. You gotta take care of them. Now, yer supposed to retreat when ya can’t win, but this ain’t one of those times.”
“What do you mean? There’s a double cavalry patrol out there. We got less than two dozen and most of ’em is injured or captured or both. We try to fight, and we’ll all get killed.”
“Some of ’em, maybe, but we can win. I know our abilities.”
“That’s ridiculous. Even if we did win, that’s the king’s army. We’ll be hunted fer treason and murder.”
“Drauglics’ll probably take care of the evidence,” Rezkin said. “Besides, we need horses, and they’ve got horses.”
“They’ve taken our weapons.”
Rezkin unstrapped the small crossbow he had hidden beneath his cloak. He handed it and a leather roll of bolts to the mercenary. “I expect these back when we’re done.”
Orin took the weapon, looking at Rezkin cautiously. “I don’t remember seein’ these on you.”
Rezkin shook his head. “That’s the point.”
Intentionally scuffing his feet in the dirt, Rezkin strode across the road with an indolent swagger, his cloak slapping against his legs. “A’right, I’m here. What do you want?”
The dergmyer ignored him completely as he supervised the delivery of the horses to the vacant animal pens.
“Take him into custody,” said the myer.
Rezkin pushed his cloak back to reveal the sword hilts at his hips. “I’ll warn ya, I don’t intend to go peaceably.”
The myer huffed. “If you cause trouble, we will not hesitate to kill these men.”
With a lazy sweep of his gaze over the haggard faces of the kneeling men, Rezkin shrugged. “Don’t matter to me. Ain’t my men.”
“You are not with them?” said the myer. When Rezkin gave no answer, he pointed to Orin and said, “Well, I know them to be his men, and he might not appreciate your causing their deaths.”
Rezkin said, “Way I see it, you kill them, it’s you is causing their deaths. Don’t matter no how. He’s already decided his men are as good as dead. He don’t plan to go peaceably neither.”
Orin raised the crossbow with his good hand to aim at the myer from where he stood a few paces to Rezkin’s right.
The myer gave Rezkin a look that thoroughly expressed his dismay. He waved to the several dozen armed men behind him and said, “Do you not see that the two of you are outnumbered nearly forty to one? There is no need for you to go down fighting. If you surrender, we will take you to Ulep for a trial.”
“Why would you do that? You ain’t even investigated yet, and you’ve already decided we’re guilty.”
“It’s obvious what happened here,” the myer huffed.
“It is,” Rezkin agreed, “if you care to look. It was drauglics.”
The dergmyer walked up behind the myer who respectfully ceded the position. “Why have you not captured this man?”
“He says he intends to fight,” said the myer.
The officers’ attention was diverted when Minder Finwy approached from Rezkin’s other side. Finwy said, “Sir—”
“Dergmyer.”
Finwy tilted his head. “Dergmyer, I am Minder Finwy, assistant to Minder Barkal of the Temple of the Maker in Serret. I have been traveling with these men, and I assure you, they had nothing to do with the deaths on this plantation. None were living when we arrived.”
The dergmyer glanced from the minder to Rezkin to Orin and back to Rezkin. The dergmyer raised a hand and flicked a finger. “Shoot them.”