It was the King’s Own, Talamir, not in one of his more elaborate uniforms, but in a set of Whites like everyone else’s. No wonder Alberich hadn’t noticed him until he spoke. Talamir here, and waiting to hear what I know… it may be rumor, but they are taking the rumor seriously.

“Once, they had honor and purpose, and things they would not do. Now…” He shrugged. “Nothing there is, they will not do, should the reward be high. Anything for loot. War they bring against the unarmed, as well as fighting true-battles. I have heard—dreadful things.” He had to pause, shaking his head. “With no wives, only women held by the strongest, no families, their ranks then grew but slowly, and difficult, it was, to replace those who fell. So now anyone they take into their ranks, who presents himself—thief, murderer, it matters not, has he a strong arm. And thus, cruelty upon cruelty piles.”

Dethor and Talamir exchanged a worried look.

But Alberich wasn’t quite finished. “The greatest change is this. No more seeking the home, they look only for a home. Should any offer a new land in reward, it is said—it is said that there is nothing they would not do.” He gnawed his lower lip, thinking about the cold-blooded killers that Aksel had described, and what they would willingly do for anyone who was so foolish as to offer them a new homeland. His blood ran cold at the very idea. “But this, hearsay only is,” he amended. “None I know has seen them, spoken to them, fought against them nor with them. Should any in Valdemar seek them to hire, warned they should be. It is said, moreover, that no sworn word do they truly hold by but their own, to their own, and they can and have turned against those who hired them.”

“Someone had better find a way to get that message across to your own people,” Dethor replied grimly. “Because word has reached us that they’re thinking about hiring the Tedrel Companies. And not just one of ’em. All of ’em.”