The sergeant nodded. ‘Greater Houses without enough wealth to assemble a decent cadre of Houseblades. If there were a chance, they’d end up with the Houseblades of other Houses. But Korlas was a proud man, as I recall.’
‘You knew him?’
‘Captain, I served under him. Same for Laskan, Helrot and Bishim. He was a good man. Died a hero.’
All at once a new fear took hold of Risp: the loyalty of this man standing before her. ‘You said that Gripp and this hostage cannot be allowed to get out of these hills alive, sergeant.’
‘No sir. I said things would get even worse if they did.’
‘I see. Then what do you suggest?’ So much for exercising the power of command. My first test and I fail.
‘We need to find them, sir. And make it right.’
‘How do we do that?’
‘We let Silann hang, sir.’
‘He just up and decided to become an outlaw? You can’t be serious, sergeant. He still holds a rank in the Legion, and so do half his soldiers.’
‘We don’t have to know why he did what he did, sir. It’s a mystery to all of us, maybe even his wife.’
‘So, instead of hunting down and killing Gripp and the boy, ensuring that all of this goes away, you’re advising we act in baffled horror and disgust. That we find the old man and this hostage and help them, maybe even escort them to Kharkanas.’ She looked around, scanned the faces of her soldiers. She barely knew them, but Hunn Raal was certain of their loyalty. Nevertheless, under these circumstances, even that loyalty was being stretched — she could see as much in their expressions. Hostages were sacred, and this particular hostage was under Lord Anomander’s protection, which added genuine fear to their discomfort. ‘Esthala needs to know of this change in plans.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Send Laskan and Bishim back to her. And then what, Silann’s own wife arrests him?’
The sergeant shook his head, but said nothing.
Risp closed her eyes briefly and then looked away, up the road. ‘No, she won’t do that. Silann is too weak to keep his mouth shut. She’ll have to kill him, and his soldiers.’ She met the sergeant’s eyes again. ‘She’ll understand the necessity, won’t she? There is no other way out of this. Is there?’
Still he remained silent, watching her.
‘Send them.’
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The sergeant nodded. ‘Greater Houses without enough wealth to assemble a decent cadre of Houseblades. If there were a chance, they’d end up with the Houseblades of other Houses. But Korlas was a proud man, as I recall.’
‘You knew him?’
‘Captain, I served under him. Same for Laskan, Helrot and Bishim. He was a good man. Died a hero.’
All at once a new fear took hold of Risp: the loyalty of this man standing before her. ‘You said that Gripp and this hostage cannot be allowed to get out of these hills alive, sergeant.’
‘No sir. I said things would get even worse if they did.’
‘I see. Then what do you suggest?’ So much for exercising the power of command. My first test and I fail.
‘We need to find them, sir. And make it right.’
‘How do we do that?’
‘We let Silann hang, sir.’
‘He just up and decided to become an outlaw? You can’t be serious, sergeant. He still holds a rank in the Legion, and so do half his soldiers.’
‘We don’t have to know why he did what he did, sir. It’s a mystery to all of us, maybe even his wife.’
‘So, instead of hunting down and killing Gripp and the boy, ensuring that all of this goes away, you’re advising we act in baffled horror and disgust. That we find the old man and this hostage and help them, maybe even escort them to Kharkanas.’ She looked around, scanned the faces of her soldiers. She barely knew them, but Hunn Raal was certain of their loyalty. Nevertheless, under these circumstances, even that loyalty was being stretched — she could see as much in their expressions. Hostages were sacred, and this particular hostage was under Lord Anomander’s protection, which added genuine fear to their discomfort. ‘Esthala needs to know of this change in plans.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Send Laskan and Bishim back to her. And then what, Silann’s own wife arrests him?’
The sergeant shook his head, but said nothing.
Risp closed her eyes briefly and then looked away, up the road. ‘No, she won’t do that. Silann is too weak to keep his mouth shut. She’ll have to kill him, and his soldiers.’ She met the sergeant’s eyes again. ‘She’ll understand the necessity, won’t she? There is no other way out of this. Is there?’
Still he remained silent, watching her.
‘Send them.’
‘Yes sir.’ The sergeant gestured and the two men mounted their horses and a moment later set off.
‘Send Helrot to Tulla Hold,’ she went on. ‘To report the slaughter and make known our search for survivors. And to ask for assistance.’
‘Yes sir.’
She would have to get rid of this sergeant. She didn’t want him in her troop. He gave too little away; she could not tell what he was thinking and this unnerved her. His silence had felt like a judgement, and for all she knew she had failed in the balance.
‘Collect up that trunk. We’ll take it with us. Then we ride east. We eat in the saddle.’
‘Yes sir.’
Rancept slid back down to where she huddled. ‘Three riders dispatched,’ he said. ‘Two back the way they came and one up the road — likely on her way to Tulla. The rest are heading east.’
Exhausted, chilled and miserable, Sukul sighed. ‘What does all that mean?’
‘Not party to the killing, I’d wager, milady. They’re all Legion, and that raises another question.’
‘What are they doing out here?’ Sukul said, nodding. ‘Since no Legion troop ever rode within sight of Tulla Hold.’
‘Not wanting to be seen.’
‘But one is now riding to Tulla, you said.’
The castellan grunted, squinting at Ribs, who was curled up asleep against Sukul’s feet — and the animal’s heat now warmed her aching toes, and she looked upon the creature with a fondness she had not imagined possible.
‘Should we go down to them?’ she asked.
‘Too late.’
‘I told you we should have taken horses and just ridden the road.’
‘In hindsight,’ Rancept allowed, ‘maybe so. But what doesn’t change is that none of this feels right.’
She wasn’t about to argue that point. The wheezing old castellan’s feelings couldn’t be dismissed this time. ‘So who killed those traders?’
He shook his head, and then straightened. ‘Let’s go down. Maybe Ribs will tell us.’
‘Castellan, he’s just a damned dog, not a seer.’