“I believe I’ve made my feelings clear as well, Willem,” said Malikel, seated beside him. “It seems shortsighted to me not to pursue a rescue.”

“I don’t take your counsel lightly, Malikel, and Tristam’s dedication is admirable, but I’m afraid it’s just too dangerous. Your prisoner is most likely already dead at the barbarians’ hands.”

Dead. The word conjured up images of Kyra, limp and bloody in the barbarians’ arms. Kyra torn limb from limb as demon cats fought over her body. Tristam refused to believe it. “Your Grace, we can’t be certain of this. Our scouts report that she was carried off alive. They could be holding her prisoner.”

Willem’s gaze lingered on Tristam. “You’re still young, Tristam, and unfamiliar with the demands of governing a city. Our coffers are strained due to the barbarian attacks. We simply cannot afford to spread our men any thinner.”

Tristam couldn’t help eyeing the luxurious tapestries hanging around Willem’s study, the gold and silver sculptures on the shelves, and wondering whether they had anything to do with the strain on the city’s coffers. “But, Your Grace, she could be—”

“Do you remember the circumstances under which we met?” Willem asked.

“Sir?”

“How your friend Jack was killed?”

Tristam faltered. What did Jack have to do with this? “He was mauled to death by a demon cat.”

“That’s only half the reason. The other half was because he acted foolishly in his haste to rescue a farmhand. Because of his rash judgment we lost a good knight, and the city will suffer for it. Do you understand my point, Tristam?”

Tristam nodded slowly. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Very well, then.” Willem looked over Tristam’s shoulder toward the door. “Thank you for your service to the city.” It was his cue to leave.

As the door closed behind Tristam and Malikel, the older knight put his hand on Tristam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Tristam. I know that was not the decision you were hoping for.”

Tristam’s frustration boiled over at the sheer stupidity of it all. “Sir, she could still be alive.”

“The chairman has made his decision.”

“You could have said something. Willem would have listened to you if you’d pushed harder.” Tristam realized he was raising his voice far beyond what was appropriate for addressing his superior, but he didn’t care.

“Tristam.” Malikel hadn’t spoken any louder, but the look in his eyes brooked no argument. “You’re a knight of Forge. Don’t ever forget that, and the vows that you made to obey the Council. That is your duty, above all.”

And here Tristam had thought that his vows were to protect and serve Forge’s people.

Malikel sighed, and his face softened. “I don’t like Willem’s decision either, but we choose our battles. This one is not worth it.”