“Where to?” Everard asked.
It was like we were the only two people in the room. Nobody else was talking.
“The Defender Citadel.”
“Eliarde?” he asked.
I nodded. “We failed. She’s the next target on the list. He will come after her, and there is no way for us to approach her.”
“Are you planning on using Berengur?”
He’d already plotted my strategy, which was just the way I wanted it. The smarter he felt, the more freedom I would get.
“Yes. Berengur has a good relationship with Arvel, and Arvel is Eliarde’s second cousin. She worships the soles of his boots. She would listen to a warning if it came from him.”
Everard leaned back, thinking out loud. “Praul Britin is at least two days of hard riding from Kair Toren. Assuming Berengur left the same day you two spoke, that gives him seven days. He may not be back yet.”
“It’s worth a try.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said.
Oh no, he wouldn’t. Not in his wildest dreams.
“That’s not a good idea. First, you promised Solentine you would stay here. Second, Sauven is likely aware you are in the city. By now at least one of the holy orders will be looking for you. You are well known to the Defenders. You will be recognized even if you wear every lancer’s coif in the city.”
He didn’t like that. Too bad.
“Your Grace,” I started.
A spark of green flashed in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, would you prefer Lord Commander?”
“Formality isn’t necessary,” he said.
“What should I call you?”
“Ramond is fine.”
No. Absolutely not.
“Your Grace, if any of the Defender Knights spied a man of your height and build covering his face and loitering near the Citadel, how fast do you think they would corner him and demand he remove his hood?”
“You’re not going out alone.”
“I don’t plan to. The Butcher’s magic is distinct. Someone will remember him, so I’m guessing the Magnars will be going tavern to tavern today.”
Gort jerked a little.
“They will,” Everard confirmed. “We’ll have his name by midweek at most.”
“You don’t need Gort and Shana and both Magnar brothers. Will is older; more people know him, so he will be more useful to you. Let me take Lute as my escort.”
He didn’t like that either.
Too bad. I had to win this fight, or we would never find the Butcher again.
“Take a carriage,” he said.
