Croy lowered his head as if he were ashamed of the answer. “The king died. He was poisoned by one of his courtiers. His son, the new king, discharged us. He claimed we were bad bodyguards who had failed to protect our master. We tried to explain that our brief was not to protect against poison, but only demonkind. He didn’t listen. Demons are rarely seen in this world nowadays. Our sacred work is rarely called for—as vital as it may be, it’s difficult to explain to people how important we are when no one has seen a demon at large for nearly fifty years. The new king didn’t understand why he should pay us to train endlessly for a threat that never came. He expected us to do other service to earn our keep. The five of us were forced to split up and go out into the world and find new occupation, wherever we could. Bikker brought me here, where we both swore allegiance to the Burgrave.”

“That doesn’t seem to be working so well,” Malden pointed out.

Croy glared at him.

The thief shrugged off the knight’s disdain. “I speak nothing but fact. Neither of you works for the Burgrave anymore. Bikker’s working for the Burgrave’s enemies now. And the Burgrave sentenced you to death.”

“I haven’t forgotten my oath, all the same. As for Bikker—something changed inside him. With nothing much to do, he grew bored here. There was not enough action to satisfy his bloodlust, and a man like Bikker must fight or he begins to die inside. Everything that was noble and valiant in him perished for lack of use. It was a great tragedy—but I cannot forgive him for what he has become. He broke his promise to the Burgrave and now he sells his services—and Acidtongue’s—to the highest bidder. I called him faithless when he left the Burgrave’s employ. I insulted his honor.” Croy shook his head. “Now he seeks satisfaction for that slight. He will kill me if he catches me.”

“What, because you called him a bad name?” Malden asked.

“Sure, son, an’ only apologize, an’ make it better, like,” Kemper suggested.

“It was unforgivable, what I said. Don’t you understand? Honor is everything to such as Bikker and myself. An insult like that is a mortal blow.” Croy studied Malden and Kemper with a questioning eye. “You don’t understand at all. Is it true what they say, then, that there is no honor among thieves?”

“Aye,” Kemper said.

“Yes,” Malden agreed.

Croy grunted in distaste.