Chapter Thirty-One
The constable’s office in Sparrow Hill was small, with one desk and two cells that were probably only used to house drunken citizens that got too rowdy for the local tavern owner to handle.
One of the cell doors hung open, swaying gently on broken hinges.
Someone slept off a rough night in the other cell, their snores echoing through the small space.
The constable himself was slumped over his desk, head in his hand as he read something. He didn’t bother looking up until the Arnsveldians stood right in front of his desk. “What?” he grumbled. Exhaustion left dark circles under his eyes and hung off him like an ill-fitting jacket.
Carolin had dealt with every constable they’d met along their route, and she stepped forward to take the lead again. “We’re mercenaries hired by the King of Bellacosta to hunt down the leaders of a coup.”
The constable leaned back in his chair. “How many of you are there?”
Carolin arched an eyebrow and looked back at the group crowded into the small office. “Four.”
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.
“Names,” Archer ordered.
The constable remained silent, refusing to share those details.
Carolin grabbed a small coin pouch from her belt and tossed it onto the desk. “Information fee,” she explained with a sharp smile that could coax as easily as threaten.
The constable eyed the coin pouch for a while, then covered it with his hand. “According to a witness, their names are Penn Kaurier and Adelaide Orestes.”
The names swept over the Arnsveldian soldiers like a rockslide. Everyone in Arnsveld knew those two names. The Witch herself, and the king’s personal messenger—his closest friend.
Archer’s fists clenched at his side. The traitors had somehow turned Valerian and captured Adelaide. No wonder she’d called him home. Knowing Adelaide, she hadn’t called Archer here just to save her. Something more sinister was brewing in this small border town.
“Which direction did the soldiers head?” Carolin asked.
The constable’s lips pressed in a thin line. “I wouldn’t follow them if I were you. Whatever the king is paying you, it’s not enough to wade through this shit.”
“Thanks for your advice.”
“We’re not fucking taking it though,” Mahler muttered.
Carolin elbowed him and said, “Just tell us what you told them, and we’ll follow the clues ourselves.”
“Look.” The constable leaned forward on the desk and locked eyes with each of them in turn.
When he reached Archer, his brow furrowed, and he glanced away quickly, choosing to focus on Carolin instead.
“I’ll tell you this: Adelaide is a powerful mage in her own right.
Anyone who could take her hostage is not someone to fuck with.
Even her daughter knew that—” He cut himself off, realizing he’d said too much.
“Emmaline was here?” Norwin asked, elbowing his way to the front of the group.
“Where is she? Is she still in town?” Norwin was originally from the same village in the Vorland Foothills as Emmaline.
They’d grown up together, spending the summers running around their little village with a hoard of other children.
The constable’s gaze dropped to his desk. “She’s already left town, and I don’t know where she is.”
If Adelaide had to separate from her daughter, her message to Silas makes more sense. Adelaide had probably sent Emmaline to Litus, where she would hopefully be a safe distance from the trouble brewing in Arnsveld.
“I also don’t know where Niall and Valerian went,” the constable continued, “but the other soldiers headed east, into the mountains.”
Carolin thanked him for the information and led the way out of the office.
As they gathered their horses, Mahler asked, “What do you think they’re doing in the mountains?”
“Trying to cross them?” Norwin suggested.
Mahler scoffed. “With winter coming? Unless they head south toward the pass, the snow will take care of them quick.”
“We can’t rely on nature to solve our problems,” Carolin said.
“We can if the Witch is there. She can brew up an early blizzard to freeze their balls off.”
Norwin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Not if she’s a hostage.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute,” Mahler said. “The Witch is too powerful to be a hostage. If she’s with them, it’s because she’s trying to lead them into a trap.”
“We need to follow the soldiers first,” Archer said. “If they received the same instructions as their coconspirators back in the capital, they were led here on purpose. We need to find out why.”
The soldiers had a day’s head start, but Archer and the others knew the mountains better. Archer would hunt the soldiers to the highest peak to save his friends and protect his kingdom.