Page 70 of Sword & Sacrifice

Brow furrowed, the constable opened his mouth, then shook his head. “Never mind. If you’re looking for Niall Payton, he’s already scampered off.”

Mahler grumbled behind them, “Figured this was a dead end.”

“But he was here?” Carolin asked.

“Supposedly.”

Carolin glanced at Archer. Keeping his hand out of the constable’s sight, he gestured for her to probe deeper.

“What was his last known location?”

Sighing, the constable leaned forward and rested his head in his hand. “Causley Estate. Lord Edgar, Niall’s nephew, thought he had the man tied up in his basement, but one of his allies rescued him. Unfortunately, I don’t have much other information for you.”

“You mentioned an ‘ally.’ Do you know anything about them?” Carolin asked. “Maybe if we have a name, we’ll have an easier time tracking them down.”

The constable heaved a weary sigh. “The ally in question is Valerian Sommers.”

Archer tensed, shocked to hear the mage’s name associated with one of the traitors.

The constable caught his tightening shoulders and nodded. “Not surprised the name sounds familiar to a group of mercenaries.” He examined Archer a little closer, exactly what he’d hoped to avoid, but there was no recognition in the man’s eyes. No knowledge he was speaking to a king. “Although, you look too young to have been in the game long.”

“Used his messenger services,” Archer grunted.

“Ah, I heard rumors about him becoming a shopkeeper after retiring. But I guess he still sells his skills to the highest bidder, because he freed Niall and they ran off together. Took a few hostages, too.”

Dread pooled in Archer’s stomach. Nothing the constable said made sense. If Valerian was a random mage they’d paid to help them, Archer could understand why he might betray them for Niall. But Griselda had vouched for him; Valerian had saved Silas’ life, even when presented with thousands of gold; and there was no money involved, no reward, for him to save Penn from Gavril. Archer thought of Valerian’s frantic energy the night they learned Penn was in danger—his desperation. That was not a man who would hurt his lover under anything less than extreme circumstances. “What are the hostage’s names?”

The constable’s expression shuttered. “How many times must I go over this? I already told the soldiers everything yesterday.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed. The Bellacostan soldiers spread throughout the kingdom hadn’t been put on house arrest like their capital comrades, but Silas’ orders to them had been to remain at their stations and report any signs of the traitors. They wouldn’t have known to come to Sparrow Hill unless they were following someone else’s orders.

“Well, we’re mercenaries,” Carolin explained. “Not soldiers.”

“We only get paid when we catch the fuckers,” Mahler added, baring his teeth in a savage smile.

The constable leaned back in his seat and examined them. “I’ve been in your place before. Take my advice: with all the shit going on in this kingdom right now, the best you can do is enlist, since the king’s looking for fresh blood. Get that steady paycheck, put some food on the table. Better than chasing after bounties.”

Norwin stifled a laugh with his fist.

“Noted,” Carolin said, her face straight throughout the constable’s little lecture. “But for now … who were the soldiers you spoke to yesterday?”

Sighing, the constable said, “I only spoke to the leader of the squad, Sergeant Noah Harland. Lord Garan’s son.”

So the traitor gave himself a promotion? When Griselda had discharged the exiled lord’s son from the army, he’d only been a private. The disgraced soldier now seemed to be one of the key leaders of Varro’s faction.

“I didn’t see the rest,” the constable continued, “but I think there were ten or twelve other soldiers traveling with him.”

Archer grimaced at the number of soldiers willing to side with Varro. If he can afford to send a dozen off on a mission, how many more remain under his command?

“They still might not have enough to go up against the likes of Valerian.” The constable locked eyes with the soldiers, a silent warning that they would be equally outmatched.

“Thank you, we’ll see if we can catch up to them, offer a little assistance,” Carolin said.

“Man, I don’t want to share the reward,” Mahler grumbled.

Carolin ignored her friend’s acting and asked, “Who were the hostages?”

“Two Arnsveldian citizens.” The constable’s tone implied: no one your king would worry about.