“We may be riding in different directions,” Barrington said, “but we’re still fighting the same battle.”
Alex nodded once, eyes narrowing toward the uncertain horizon. “And no ground left uncovered.”
*
As they rodeinto Carver’s yard, the sound of hooves drew attention long before words were spoken. A few miners glanced up from their tasks, wary eyes tracking Alex and Barrington as they dismounted. Carver emerged from beneath the timbered lean-to, a rag in one hand, wiping coal dust from his fingers as he watched them approach.
He hadn’t been waiting, but he was not caught unprepared either. His posture spoke of a man accustomed to hard labor and harder decisions, guarded but not openly hostile.
“My lords,” Carver greeted, with a nod first to Alex, then to Barrington. His gaze shifted between them, cool but not insolent. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Alex met the miner’s eye steadily. “A few questions about your recent orders.” His tone was calm and steady. “We’ve reason to believe your name has been used in some irregular dealings.”
Carver’s jaw tightened subtly, and he glanced back toward themen behind him. “I run an honest mine, my lord. Orders come and go. Some I fill, some I decline.”
Barrington stepped forward slightly, his gaze sweeping the quiet yard. There was no sign of outward trouble, but there was something in the way the workers lingered, watchful, cautious, as though deciding whether to stay or slip away.
“You’ve turned away orders, then?” Barrington asked, keeping his voice even.
Carver folded the rag between his hands. “Aye. A few lately. Materials that didn’t suit, or requests that came from unfamiliar quarters.”
Alex studied him closely. Carver’s responses were careful, not evasive. He was not a man accustomed to explaining himself, but neither did he seem surprised by the line of questioning.
“You didn’t think to raise any concern?” Alex pressed gently, a prompt, not an accusation.
Carver’s mouth pulled tight. “With respect, my lord, a man in my position thinks twice before accusing gentlemen of misconduct. Especially when the orders come dressed in proper accounts and fine seals.”
Alex absorbed that quietly. It was an honest answer, and it told him more than if Carver had blustered.
“What did these gentlemen look like?” Barrington asked.
Carver shifted his weight. “Respectable. Well-fed. Fine coats. You know the sort.” His gaze flicked to Alex, not as an accusation, but as a grim acknowledgment.
Barrington’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you recognize any names?”
Carver shook his head once. “Names were not given.” He paused, then added, “But their eyes were sharp as razors. They knew what they were about.”
Alex held his gaze a moment longer, seeing the truth beneath the caution. Carver would not say more, but it was clear enough. Theman had seen trouble coming and chose to stand aside rather than risk himself.
“You’ve done the right thing to refuse them,” Alex said at last. “And if they return?”
Carver’s expression hardened. “I’ll do the same.”
There was a quiet moment as the words settled between them. Alex inclined his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment and, perhaps, quiet respect.
“Good,” Barrington said simply.
With that, they stepped back, allowing Carver to return to his men. As they turned toward their horses, Barrington spoke low to Alex beneath the creak of harness leather.
“He knows more.”
Alex’s eyes stayed on the mine yard as he replied, his voice low and sure. “He does. But we’ve planted the seed. He’ll come to us when he’s ready.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Alex swung into the saddle with practiced ease. “Then we’ll be ready when he slips.”
He trusted her. Respected her. But the part of him that had walked battlefields also knew that not all courage went unpunished.
