Hadrian cut his way through the thick undergrowth to where they lay. Royce was breathing hard, holding his blood-soaked side. His face was pale, but his eyes remained focused.
“How ya doing, buddy?” Hadrian asked, dropping to his knees and carefully slipping an arm under his friend.
Royce didn’t say anything. He kept his teeth clenched, blowing his cheeks out with each breath.
“Get his feet, Wyatt,” Hadrian ordered. “Now lift him gently. Poe, get out front with the torch.”
“What about Staul?” Derning asked.
“What about him?” Hadrian glanced down at the big Tenkin, whose throat lay open, slit from ear to ear.
When they returned to camp, Wesley ordered Royce to be taken to his tent, which was the largest, originally reserved for Captain Seward. He started to send Poe for Dr. Levy, but Hadrian intervened. Wesley appeared confused, but as Hadrian was Royce’s best friend, he did not press the issue. The Vintu were surprisingly adept at first aid, and under Hadrian’s watchful eye they cleaned and dressed the wound.
The bolt aimed at Royce’s heart had entered and exited cleanly. He suffered significant blood loss, but no organ damage, nor broken bones. The Vintu sealed the tiny entry hole without a problem. The larger tearing of his flesh at the exit was another matter. It took a dozen bandages and many basins of water before they got the bleeding under control and Royce lay, sleeping calmly.
“Why wasn’t I notified about this? I’m a physician, for Maribor’s sake!”
Hadrian stepped outside the tent flap to find Levy arguing with Wyatt, Poe, Grady, and Derning, who, at Hadrian’s request, guarded the entrance.
“Ah, Dr. Levy, just the man I wanted to see,” Hadrian addressed him. “Where’s your boss? Where’s Thranic?”
Levy did not need to answer, as across the camp Thranic walked toward them alongside Wesley and Bernie.
Hadrian drew his sword at their approach.
“Put away your weapon!” Wesley ordered.
“This man nearly killed Royce tonight,” Hadrian declared, pointing at Thranic.
“That’s not the way he tells it,” Wesley replied. “He said Seaman Melborn attacked and murdered Seaman Staul over accusations regarding Seaman Drew’s death. Mr. Thranic and Seaman Defoe claim they were witnesses.”
“We don’t claim anything. We saw it,” Thranic said coolly.
“And how do you claim this took place?” Hadrian asked.
“Staul confronted Royce, telling him he was going to Wesley with evidence. Royce warned him that he would never live to see the dawn. Then, when Staul turned to walk back to camp, Royce grabbed him from behind and slit his throat. Bernie and I expected such treachery from him, but we couldn’t convince Staul not to confront the blackguard. So we followed. I brought a crossbow, borrowed from Mr. Dilladrum’s supplies, for protection. I fired in self-defense.”
“He’s lying,” Hadrian declared.
“Oh, were you there?” Thranic asked. “Did you see it happen as we did? Funny, I didn’t notice your presence.”
“Royce left the camp with Bernie, not Staul,” Hadrian said.
Thranic laughed. “Is that the best you can come up with to save your friend from a noose? Why not say you saw Staul attack him unprovoked, or me, for that matter?”
“I saw Royce leave with Bernie too, and Thranic and Staul followed after them,” Wyatt put in.
“That’s a lie!” Bernie responded, convincingly offended. “I watched Royce leave with Staul. Thranic and I followed. I worked the topmast with Royce. I was there the night Edgar Drew died. Royce was the only one near him. They were having an argument. You all saw how agile he is. Drew never had a chance.”
“Why didn’t you report it to the captain?” Derning asked.
“I did,” Bernie declared. “But because I didn’t actually see him push poor Drew off, he refused to do anything.”
“How convenient that Captain Seward is too dead to ask about that,” Wyatt pointed out.
Thranic shook his head with a pitiful smile. “Now, Wesley, will you actually take the word of a pirate and a cook over the word of a sentinel of the Nyphron Church?”
“Your Excellency,” Wesley said, turning to face Thranic. “You will address me as Mr. Wesley or sir. Is that understood?” Thranic’s expression soured. “And I will decide whose word I will accept. As it happens, I am well aware of your personal vendetta against Seaman Melborn. Midshipman Beryl tried to convince me to bring false charges. Well, sir, I did not buckle to Beryl’s threats, and I’ll be damned if I will be intimidated by your title.”
“Damned is a very good choice of words, Mr. Wesley.”
“Sentinel Thranic,” Wesley barked at him. “Be forewarned that if any further harm befalls Seaman Melborn that is even remotely suspicious, I will hold you responsible and have you executed by whatever means are at hand. Do I make myself clear?”
“You wouldn’t dare touch an ordained officer of the Patriarch. Every king in Avryn—why, the regents themselves—would not oppose me. It’s you who should be concerned about execution.”