Arcolin had never seen the man; he started to say that there were many tall, lean black-haired men with scars, but this was Stammel. “Are you sure?”

“Almost, sir. None of ’em talked much, but he said nothing at all. He never looked straight at me, but little glances out the side of his eyes, like.”

“Well … after he left he’s none of our concern. If he’s satisfied his employers—”

“That’s true, sir, but I wonder who his employer really is. Not that merchant, I’ll wager.”

“He harmed Paks, I remember that—but now we think it was Venner who gave Stephi the drugged ale, not Korryn.” Stammel said nothing. Arcolin sighed finally. “What do you think he’s doing, then?”

“Nothing good, sir. And loose, he’ll be eager to hurt us, for that punishment. There’s hate in his eyes when he looks at me. Devlin thinks the same.”

“He was there too, wasn’t he?” Arcolin sighed again. “We can tell the Vonjans what we know of him, but we’ll need proof. It’s been—what?—five years or so?”

“Sejek used the sea-ink dye on the stripes, sir. Made sure it was in deep. It should show.”

“Well. I’ll tell the Vonjans, when we get to the city.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Dawn revealed familiar country, thickets and brush to the east along the line of the stream, and rising ground, rough pasture, to the west. Arcolin allowed the cooks to make a hot breakfast; he drank his sib in the saddle, watchful. The five guards had caused no trouble so far, making no attempt to escape when taken to the jacks; they ate their porridge without comment. The surgeon had advised against dosing them, so Arcolin had their hands bound again for the day’s march.

On the firmer ground, and after a rainless day, the road withstood the wagons’ passage reasonably well; they passed the old night shelter by midmorning, and came to the village outside which they’d first camped. Suddenly a figure appeared, running for the woods; Arcolin waved his mounted scout on and sent Burek to follow. Shortly they came back with a bound captive, blood running down his face from a clout on the head.

“You criminals!” the man said. “You can’t do this!”

“Evidently, we can,” Arcolin said. Up close, he recognized the village headman. “You know who we are; you had no business to run from us—except to signal the brigands in those woods over there.”

“I wasn’t—I just saw a—a loose cow.”

The scout—Arñe, today—sniggered audibly. “Didn’t see a cow, Captain.”

“You scared it into the bushes with that horse,” the man said.

Arcolin dismounted, walked up to the man and leaned into him; the man flinched. “You are a liar,” he said. “I have authority from Cortes Vonja to depose any village official I find in league with brigands. You lied to me before; I let it go, out of mercy, but this time—no. To Cortes Vonja you go for trial, and I do not think you will return.”