“No,” Galien replied, “I received some unexpected news this morning and I thought you might like to hear of it, Luis, as I suspect it will interest you very much. Carlton, will you ask the deacon Tomas to come in?”
Galien’s steward, Carlton, who was busy pouring watered-down wine, promptly left the table and opened the door to the hallway. “His Grace will see you now.”
In walked a plump, pudgy man in a priest’s frock. “Luis Guy, Lord Rufus, let me introduce Deacon Tomas of Dahlgren Village. Tomas, this is Lord Rufus, Sentinel Guy, and you already know Bishop Saldur, of course.”
Tomas nodded with a nervous smile.
“What’s this all about?” Guy asked as if Tomas was not there.
“Go ahead, Tomas, tell the sentinel what you told me.”
The deacon shifted his feet and avoided eye contact with anyone in the room. When he spoke, his voice was so soft they strained to hear him. “I was just mentioning to His Grace how I had stepped up and handled things here in the absence of the margrave. It has been hard times in this village, hard indeed, but I tried my best to keep the great house in order. It wasn’t my idea that they should invade the place, I tried to stop them, but I am only one man, you see. It was impossible—”
“Yes, yes, tell him about the cripple,” the archbishop put in.
“Oh, certainly. Ah yes, Esra came to live here, I don’t know, about a month ago, he—”
“Esra?” Guy said, and glanced abruptly at the archbishop and Saldur, who both smiled knowingly at him.
“Yes,” Deacon Tomas replied. “That’s his name. He never said too much, but the villagers are a good lot and they took turns feeding him, as the poor man was in dire straits missing both hands as he is.”
“Esrahaddon!” Guy hissed. “Where is the snake?”
The sudden violent reaction of the sentinel shocked Tomas, who took a step back.
“Ah, well, I don’t know, he comes and goes, although I remember he was around the village a lot more before the two strangers arrived.”
“Strangers?” Guy asked.
“Friends of the Wood family, I think. At least, they arrived with Thrace and spend a lot of time with her and her father. Since they got here, Esra spends most of his days off with the quiet one—Royce, I think they call him.”
“Royce Melborn and Hadrian Blackwater, the two thieves that broke the wizard out of Gutaria, and Esrahaddon are all here in this village?” Saldur and Galien nodded at Luis.
“Very curious, isn’t it?” the archbishop commented. “Perhaps we focused on the wrong hound when we approached Arista. It looks as if the old wizard has put his trust in the two thieves instead. The real question is, why would they all be here? It can’t be coincidence that he turns up in this little backwater village at the precise moment when the emperor is about to be crowned.”
“He couldn’t know our plans,” Guy told him.
“He is a wizard; they are good at discovering things. Regardless, you might want to see if you can determine what he’s up to.”
“Remember to keep your distance,” Saldur added. “We don’t want to tree this fox until we know he’s led us to his den.”
Hadrian folded the blanket twice in length, then rolled it tight, buckling the resulting cloth log with two leather straps. He had all the gear left to them on the ground in neat piles. They still had all their camping gear, food, and feed. Royce had his saddle, bridle, and bags, but Hadrian had lost his tack along with his weapons when Millie had disappeared. It would be impossible to ride double and haul the gear. They would have to load Mouse up with everything and walk the trip home.
“There you are.”
Hadrian looked up to see Theron striding from the direction of the Bothwicks’, heading for the well with an empty bucket in his hand.
“We didn’t see you around last night. Was worried something happened to you.”
“Looks like everyone had a lucky night,” Hadrian said.
“Everyone in the village—yeah. But I don’t think them fellas up at the castle did so well. We heard a lot of shouting and screaming and they ain’t celebrating this morning. My guess is their plan to kill the beast didn’t go as hoped.” The farmer scanned the piles. “Packing, eh? So you’re leaving too?”
“I don’t see why not. There’s nothing keeping us here anymore. How’s Thrace?”
“Doing well, rubbing elbows with the nobility, she tells me. She’s walking around just fine; the headaches are mostly gone. We’ll be on our way tomorrow morning, I expect.”
“Good to hear it,” Hadrian said.
“Who’s your friend?” Theron motioned to the dwarf seated a few feet away in the shade of a poplar tree.
“Oh yeah. Theron, meet Magnus. He’s not so much a friend as an associate.” He thought about that and added, “Actually, he’s more like an enemy I’m keeping an eye on.”
Theron nodded, but with a puzzled look, and the dwarf grumbled something neither caught.
“What about my lesson?” Theron asked.