Finn dashed to obey, fetching the baby’s sling and prodding Sarah to her feet.
The beggar eyed Vera. “I’ll do it for four coins.”
She dug for the coin purse Venn had left her. “I’ll give you half now and the rest once you bring Venn.”
He tipped his head, flashing a smile that revealed rotted teeth. “Agreed.”
Vera scooped up Rebecca, struggling to ignore a twinge of doubt as she herded the children out of the tent. While the beggar hurried off toward the camp’s center, Vera and the children followed the man’s directions toward the city wall of Zahdir. It was a section of the camp she hadn’t explored, and the closer they came to the wall, the fewer people she saw milling outside the tents.
Unease tickled her scalp, but it was too late to turn back; they’d reached a slight clearing that held a gallows and a large wooden building that looked similar to the prison in the main square. Several guards that stood outside the door spotted them and straightened.
The sling held Rebecca to her chest, and Vera held both Finn and Sarah’s hands. “Stay close, and let me do the talking.”
Finn nodded, eagerness in every step as they approached.
“What do you want?” one of the guards asked.
“We’re here to see David Holm,” Vera said.
“Who are you?”
“His family.” Anything else might be dismissed, and the words were true enough.
“Do you have any weapons?” the man asked.
That made her pause. The knife sheathed on her calf would be found in a basic search, but she was reluctant to give it up.
Finn tugged out his knife, though, and handed it over.
Vera kept her silence and her knife.
Another guard pushed the door open, waving for them to go inside.
Vera entered the building, still gripping the small hands inside her own tightly. There were no windows, and even though a lamp glowed, the interior was dim. She blinked quickly, pausing just inside to let her eyes adjust.
One of the guards slipped around her, kicking up some dirt from the earthen floor as he strode forward. “David Holm’s family is here.”
“Ah.” A new voice said. “Thank you.”
Vera’s vision was still shadowed, but she faced the silhouette of a man in the corner. “We just learned about his arrest. What is his crime?”
“Treason.”
The answer was the last thing Vera expected. “Treason?”
“Against Devendra.” The man gave a nod, and the guard positioned himself behind Vera.
Her heart tripped. She didn’t know why, but instinct screamed they’d made a mistake in coming here. She tightened her hold on Finn and Sarah. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re not the first to struggle.” The man stepped closer, and finally Vera could make out his features. He appeared to be in his thirties, and his hair was long and dark, brushing in waves against his shoulders. He had a long sword and two daggers sheathed at his waist, and he was tall. His jaw was square with a well-trimmed beard.
He smiled, and it was disturbingly congenial. “Allow me to explain. My name is Philip Dunn. I’m the Keeper of Salvation. I’m also the commander of the Hunt. I was appointed to come here by Prince Grandeur himself, to weed out the rebels who would flee Devendra.” He lifted a hand, gesturing around him. “How easy it is to find those who run away, when you create their safe haven. Theirsalvation, if you will.”
Vera felt the blood drain from her face as her thoughts spiraled.
The man’s smile widened. “It was quite smart of the prince, don’t you think? Arrest a few men in Devendra, then let them go and see who they run to—who they flee with. We’ve caught far more rebels this way. Who knows how long it would have taken to weed them all out in Devendra, but if they flee with their friends to Salvation, well then—less searching for us. And confessions are much easier to come by when we can, shall we say,persuadethem with the use of their friends and family.”
Fates, things at the camp were far more sinister than they’d imagined. It wasn’t just a place where greedy men exploited the weak—it was a trap designed by Grandeur to catch rebels. And anyone else Grandeur’s paranoia painted as a traitor.
