The Marshal took the relic and put it back in the niche. “As we both expected, the relic did nothing when you held it. But here is the extraordinary thing: when Arvid Semminson first set foot into this grange, the relic came alight—brighter than I have ever seen it. When he held it in his own hand, it did so again, so bright that we could see his bones through his flesh.”

“Why did he come here?” Arcolin asked.

“We saw a man dressed like a thief dragging along a boy who had obviously been abused; we challenged him. He showed a pass supposedly from the Marshal-General, and that made him my responsibility. I have never been so surprised, Captain Arcolin, as I was that day. A thief and murderer fresh from a kill—he admitted he had just killed the Valdaire Guildmaster—and yet the relic did not strike him down. None of us could believe his story at first, but the relic does not lie. Cannot lie.”

“What do you want from me?” Arcolin asked.

“You’re a northerner born and bred—” the Marshal began.

Arcolin shook his head. “No, Marshal. I was born in the South, far from Valdaire, though I now have a home in the north.”

“Good enough,” the Marshal said. “And you came through Vérella, I’ll warrant. Is it true, as Arvid has told me, that he was Guildmaster there this past year?”

“I don’t know. I do know the Marshal-General called him to Fin Panir to give his account of Paksenarrion. The latest rumor at court had him missing. Run away or been killed, no one knew for certain.”

“He nearly was killed by the Guild here in Valdaire, he told me.” The Marshal kicked at the floor. “My dilemma, as you can imagine, being a commander yourself, is that I am caught between what seems to be Gird’s clear interest in this man and the equally clear duty I have to this grange—to the Fellowship here in Valdaire—to protect Girdsmen from the kind of influence this man represents. A Guild enforcer: a killer by trade. I cannot but see him as a poisoned blade aimed at the heart of the Fellowship—and yet Gird’s relic says nay. And then there’s the boy he was dragging along.”

Arcolin raised his brows. “Surely just an incidental to the Guildmaster’s murder?”