Paks shrugged. "First things first. Get the prisoners to Sir Felis. Then he can find out how they've been operating, and if they've had contacts in town."

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Sir Felis met the party coming into town. Ambros was with him, as were several other yeomen. Some of the townspeople cheered; Paks felt her face redden. She was glad she had the black horse; at least she didn't have to look up at Sir Felis.

"You've done well," he said, after a quick look at the group. "None of your men killed—or even badly hurt—"

"My arm—" began the merchant. Sir Felis gave Paks a quick look of amusement, soldier to soldier, before speaking to the man.

"I'm sorry, sir; I didn't see. The surgeon has been alerted; he's at the inn."

"Good. It was a terrible fight—"

Paks saw one of Sir Felis's men roll his eyes. She choked down a laugh. Her knees felt shaky. In the stir around them, the black horse began to fidget. She met Ambros's gaze.

"How was it?" he asked.

"Went well." She worked the black horse over to the side of the road near him. "They all came out the bolthole, just as we thought. Your yeomen are good fighters—steady."

Ambros smiled. "I know. The Marshal's trained them well. I'm glad they were willing to go with you."

"What now?"

"Well—Sir Felis will take them to the keep. I suppose he'll ask you along. The Council's heard; of course they're happy about it. Do you think you got them all?"

"Twenty-one came out; we left eleven dead and have ten prisoners. Unless some stayed in the keep—and I wouldn't have, with what Zinthys did." Mindful of spies, Paks did not elaborate on that.

"They don't—they don't look so bad," said Ambros thoughtfully.

"Who, the brigands?"

"Yes. I thought—"

Paks glanced at him. "They'd all look like orcs?"

He flushed. "I know I don't have your experience—"

"Don't be silly. I didn't mean that." Paks found herself annoyed with his sensitivity. "I was surprised myself, if you want to know. The only brigands I'd seen, in Aarenis, looked as vicious as they were. These men look like any poor farmer or soldier. The leader—that one in the litter there—he said something about not wanting to be a robber—"

"Eh, once he's caught, what'd you expect him to say?" The uninjured merchant had pressed close to Paks's side. "He's not likely to admit he's been a thief from birth."

"He hasn't been," said Arvid, with a certainty that made Paks wonder.

"How do you know?"

"Lady, I, like Master Zinthys, prefer not to reveal all the sources of my knowledge. But I will tell you that had he been a thief from birth, he would not have been in that keep."

"But how do you know?" Both Paks and Ambros stared at Arvid. He smiled, bowed, and passed on toward the inn.