The headman glanced at the other two men, who were still standing slack-jawed, staring at the soldiers. “They—we don’t know—maybe from another village—”

“They spoke to me of a robber band, as if they knew where it was—why not robbers?”

The headman paled. “We—we don’t have robbers here. I told you that.”

“But you do have four dead men. And one with his head cut off, you said. Would farmers from another village have swords?”

“Nay,” one of the other men spoke for the first time. “They don’t have swords no more than we do. But you folk have swords.”

“So we do,” Arcolin said. “But we were camped here last night, and you say the dead men are over there somewhere.” He waved in a direction slightly different from what the headman had indicated.

“Not that way, but there,” the second man said, eager now to correct him and pointing very specifically. Arcolin looked in that direction.

“Where?”

“There’s a mound, maybe sunhand away, and there’s trees on it—it’s not level so no use to clear it for a field.”

Arcolin translated this from peasant estimates of distance to those used by the Company. “And you found dead men there?”

“Aye, that I did. I been sent to track the headman’s bull that broke out last night, and once we were past the ploughland, my dog, he picked up the smell of blood, and I couldn’t call him off. It might’ve been the bull’s, after all.”

“And you found four dead men,” Arcolin prompted.

“Yes, and one with no head—it turned me right up, sir, it did indeed. That was Aren, married to m’wife’s third sister, and her baby coming any time. Noki, the other, he’s m’cousin by m’father’s sister, her husband, they has four, the youngest still at breast …”

“What about the two you didn’t know?” Arcolin asked.

“Never saw them before,” the headman said. He glared at the other man.

“That’s not right,” the third man said. “You spoke to that one with the big sword yourself, that time he come to the village to buy a goose, he said.”

“Be quiet,” the headman said. The other men said nothing, but from the sly looks, Arcolin knew they were enjoying the headman’s discomfort. “They don’t know, sir. They mistook his face. I never saw either of the others, and I still say it must’ve been you—or one of your men—that killed them.”

“I know it was not,” Arcolin said. “Do you think soldiers who have marched all day have nothing better to do than run around the countryside all night finding wandering peasants to kill?” The headman opened his mouth but Arcolin went on. “It’s clear to me that your two villagers stole your bull, took it away to sell to someone, probably a whole group of robbers, and there was a quarrel. The robbers killed your men, and then perhaps another quarrel, and the others made off with your bull, leaving four dead men behind. It’s nothing to do with us, but you might consider that two of your men knew more about robbers in your area than you did.”