Vera was thinking of everything Venn had told her about his conversation the other day with Zander Fellnor.
Learning that the Hunt had targeted such an old and noble family chilled her. Because if Grandeur and his men had treated the Fellnors with such brutality, what sort of power did they truly have? It was a chilling thought.
Vera was strangely grateful that Venn and Zander would be able to wait together in the square today. She worried about Venn being alone; he was a lethal fighter and perfectly able to protect himself, but she hadn’t forgotten the look in his eye after Tariq and Jahdi were killed. He’d almost looked . . . lost.
Vera finished mending the holes in the old clothing, and she’d just moved on to modifying a small dress for Rebecca when there was a light tapping on the tent door. “Is this the tent of Venn Grannard?” a low voice asked.
Vera stood, a hand on the hilt of her sheathed blade as she pushed aside the flap. She blinked in the sunlight, but managed to make out the man standing there. He held the tin cup of a beggar in one hand—which was missing a couple of fingers—and he was slightly stooped as he eyed her. “Is this Venn Grannard’s tent?” he asked again.
“Yes, what do you want?”
“I have news for him—about David Holm.”
Finn was beside her in an instant. “You found my father?”
The beggar glanced down at the boy. “I did.” He then looked to Vera. “I was paid by Master Grannard to keep an eye out, but I’d appreciate a little more payment for telling what I’ve learned.”
The man watched with unchecked greed as Vera pulled out a pouch of coins. She gave him a couple. “Tell us what you know.”
The beggar shoved the coins into his pocket. “David Holm was imprisoned weeks ago. I don’t know his crime, but a friend of mine who helps clean the prison saw his name on a list just inside the door.”
Shock rippled through her. “He’s really here?”
“For now,” the beggar said. “His name is on the execution list.”
“What?” Finn’s body tightened. “Why?”
“As I said, I don’t know his crime. I just know that if no one pays the fee or speaks for a prisoner, they’re executed.” He glanced up at the sun. “Usually at midday.”
“No!” Finn burst out.
Vera gripped the boy’s shoulder. “We’ll go to the prison at once. Venn is in the square, and—”
“Oh, David Holm won’t be at the prison,” the beggar interrupted. “He’ll be at the execution house by now. It’s near the wall of Zahdir, over there.” He pointed. Then he looked to Vera. “For another coin, I’ll escort you.”
Vera hesitated. “We should get Venn.”
Finn twisted to face her, desperation tightening his face. “There isn’t time. It’s already midday. They’re going to kill my father!”
Vera’s heart squeezed as she stared into his wild eyes. “All right,” she said softly. “I’ll go. You stay here with—”
“No.” Finn glanced at the beggar, then lowered his voice. “You won’t recognize him.I’llgo.”
“I’m not sending you alone.”
Pain flared in his eyes. “Please, Vera. We have to go. He could be dying.”
Sarah watched them with her thumb in her mouth, her eyes clouded. Finn’s silent pleading tightened the air in the tent. Vera knew what it was to be helpless, and she hated seeing that in him.
She could insist they wait for Venn, but what if David Holm died as a result of that delay? She couldn’t have that on her conscience. She couldn’t do that to these children who had already lost too much.
Taking them to the place their father might be executed didn’t feel right, but she didn’t think it was safe to leave them alone, either. And Finn was right—she wouldn’t be able to identify David Holm. She needed them.
She turned to the beggar. “Go to the main square and find Venn; tell him everything you told us, and where to find us.”
“We’re going?” Finn gasped.
She nodded. “Help get your sisters ready.”
