“I think these soldiers are looking into the bandits,” Calrain said in an equally low voice. “I saw the way the soldiers’ faces changed when we mentioned our situation. They want to know what information we have on thebandits.”
Yarim frowned. “Do you think the soldiers might prove to be allies, then?” he asked. “If we had an entire regiment behindus—”
“That will make rescuing Riann much easier,” Calrain finished for him. “And we might actually be able to do something about this bandit scourge while we are atit.”
Calrain looked around with great interest as the soldiers led them through the camp. It was well organized, with orderly rows of tents, and buzzing with activity—soldiers sharpening their weapons, practicing fighting maneuvers, going over battle strategy. He heard the clanging of a hammer against metal, and smelled cooking meat and spices mixed with sweat and horse dung. The combined aroma was quite pungent, and made him both hungry and queasy at once when combined with thestress.
Many of the soldiers turned to look at them as they passed, and the buzz of gossip trailed behind Calrain as he rode. He knew the sight of two foreign prisoners in the camp was unusual, and hoped that the soldiers weren’t assuming theworst.
“Here we are,” one of the soldiers said, stopping in front of a large, open-air wooden cage. He lifted the heavy wooden log that served as a door bolt, then swung the door open to admit them. Several men and women were already inside, varying expressions of fear and resentment on their faces. “You’ll wait here until the major is ready to speak toyou.”
Yarim glared at the soldiers but dismounted wordlessly. Calrain sighed as he followed in after him, and the door shut behind them with a heavythud.
“This isnotwhat I had in mind when we agreed to come with them,” Yarim growled as they sat on the dirt ground. He leaned his head back against the cage, then winced. “This isn’t even remotelycomfortable.”
“Perhaps we should ask them if they have any silk pillows to spare,” Calrain said sarcastically. When Yarim narrowed his eyes, Calrain glared at him. “We can’t expect them to trust us right away. You’re going to have to bepatient.”
But, Calrain admitted to himself, it was hard to be patient when forced to sit in an enclosed space for hours on end, crowded against dirty bodies that stank of sweat and fear. Calrain tried to make some small talk with them, and it turned out that most of them were also travelers passing through the region who had been picked up forquestioning.
“At least we were allowed to keep most of our belongings,” Yarim said, patting the purse still tied to his belt. “How is theabacus?”
Calrain shrugged, his back rubbing against the pack slung over his shoulders. “I can still feel it in my pack, so I assume it’s fine.” He didn’t want to take it out in front of the others—the jewels were valuable and might draw the wrong kind ofattention.
After half an hour, a soldier brought bread and water for everyone, but after that, they were forced to wait for a good three hours before anyone cameby.
“All right,” one of the soldiers who had captured them said as he opened the door. “Major Gallington will see younow.”
The two of them were escorted to a large red and gold tent in the middle of camp, simply furnished and dominated by a giant table with a map of the region spread across it. Several officers sat around the table, distinguished from the others by the braiding on their shoulders, but Calrain guessed instantly that the one at the head was the major. He was large and broad-shouldered with a head of close-cropped silver hair and a thick, shining mustache, and though he looked a few years past his prime, he was still in good shape. His blue eyes were sharp as diamonds as he took them in while the scouts who had captured them made briefintroductions.
“A Fjordlander and a Maroyan, traveling together through Carlissian territory,” the major said, pressing the tips of his fingers together as he surveyed them. “That is not something you see everyday.”
“Two Fjordlanders,” Calrain corrected. “And a half-breed. One of our friends has been taken by the bandits. We were trying to get him back when your men arrestedus.”
“Why is it that your friend was taken in the first place?” the major asked. “Is he valuable enough to be ransomed? And where is this half-breed youmention?”
“Her name is Tariel,” Yarim said, “and she is a powerful mage. She went in after Riann, our friend who was taken, and we were waiting for her to return. As far as why he was kidnapped rather than killed, we are not certain. But it does not matter. The point is we need to retrieve him before they change their mind about keeping himalive.”
“A mage?” one of the officers exclaimed. They exchanged skeptical glances. “From the MaroyanEmpire?”
“No, she was raised in Fjordland,” Calrain explained. “We are seeking refuge in the Empire, as her magic is not welcome in Fjordland. But that is neither here northere.”
“It seems highly unlikely that a woman with magic could have survived in Fjordland for so long,” the major said, “but I am more interested in how, exactly, this woman of yours managed to find the entrance to the bandit lair. We have been combing the countryside for days to noavail.”
“It is hidden by an enchantment,” Yarim explained. “The bandits appear to have a witch on their payroll whose magic has kept their location a secret. The bandits live in a castle deep in a valley. We were right near it when we werecaptured.”
“That is ridiculous,” one of the officers sputtered. “An entire castle, hidden bymagic?”
“Weknowthe castle exists,” Calrain snapped, getting to the end of his patience. “We managed to convince one of the locals to talk tous.”
“How?” the major asked, looking very interested. “None of them have been willing to say anything about the bandits, even when we’ve threatened them with imprisonment orbeatings.”
“Magic,” Yarim said with a smirk. They explained to the soldiers how Tariel had used her abilities to get the miller to tell them about Lord Traize and the rough location of the valley that the bandits hid in. By the time they had finished the tale, the soldiers gaped at them inamazement.
“That explains why no one has ever been able to find this bandit lair, and why the locals are so afraid to say anything,” one of the officers said. “They are far more terrified of a witch than of anything we could do to them, and if their homes and families are at stake, of course they won’t talk.” He shook his head in disgust. “I cannot believe these people have been living this way for solong.”
“Still,” another officer said, “I have never heard of this Lord Traize. How do we know that the miller wasn’t making thisup?”
“The name sounds vaguely familiar,” the major said thoughtfully. “Perhaps he is from an old family that fell out of favor with the court.” He drummed his fingers against the table, and Calrain could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes. Finally, he turned to the soldier that had brought them in. “Fetch that innkeeper for me. I have anidea.”
