Raven did not explain. Instead, he said, “Shall we get to business?”

“Care to illuminate what just happened?” The Captain’s voice had a dangerous softness.

“No.”

“Better reconsider. Your presence could endanger the whole Company.”

“It won’t. It’s a personal matter. I won’t bring it with me.”

The Captain thought about it. He is not one to intrude on a man’s past. Not without cause. He decided he had cause. “How can you avoid bringing it? Obviously, you mean something to Lord Jalena.”

“Not to Jalena. To friends of his. It’s old history. I’ll settle it before I join you. Five people have to die to close the book.”

This sounded interesting. Ah, the smell of mystery and dark doings, of skullduggery and revenge. The meat of a good tale. “I’m Croaker. Any special reason for not sharing the story?”

Raven faced me, obviously under rigid self-control. “It’s private, it’s old, and it’s shameful. I don’t want to talk about it.”

One-Eye said, “In that case I can’t vote for acceptance.”

Two men and a woman came down a flagstone pathway, paused overlooking the place where Lord Jalena’s party had been. Latecomers? They were surprised. I watched them talk it over.

Elmo voted with One-Eye. So did the Lieutenant.

“Croaker?” the Captain asked.

I voted aye. I smelled a mystery and did not want it to get away.

The Captain told Raven, “I know part of it. That’s why I’m voting with One-Eye. For the Company’s sake. I’d like to have you. But.... Settle it before we leave.”

The latecomers headed our way, noses in the air but determined to learn what had become of their party.

“When are you leaving?” Raven asked. “How long do I have?”

“Tomorrow. Sunrise.”

“What?” I demanded.

“Hold on,” One-Eye said. “How come already?”

Even the Lieutenant, who never questions anything, said, “We were supposed to get a couple weeks.” He had found a lady friend, his first since I had known him.

The Captain shrugged. “They need us up north. The Limper lost the fortress at Deal to a Rebel named Raker.”

The latecomers arrived. One of the men demanded, “What became of the party in the Camellia Grotto?” His voice had a whiny, nasal quality. My hackles rose. It reeked of arrogance and contempt. I hadn’t heard its like since I joined the Black Company. People in Beryl hadn’t used that tone.

They don’t know the Black Company in Opal, I told myself. Not yet, they don’t.

The voice hit Raven like a sledge whack on the back of the head. He stiffened. For a moment his eyes were pure ice. Then a smite crinkled their corners-as evil a smite as I have ever seen.

The Captain whispered, “I know why Jalena suffered his attack of indigestion.”

We sat motionless, frozen by deadly imminence. Raven turned slowly, rising. Those three saw his face.

Whiny-voice choked. His male companion began shaking. The woman opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

Where Raven got the knife I do not know. It went almost too fast to follow. Whiny-voice bled from a cut throat. His friend had steel in his heart. And Raven had the woman’s throat in his left hand.