The bandit leader shrugged. “It was the baron’s idea. Kalazan, I mean. We figured since you lot were on foot, the hike to Atrine would take you some time. In the meantime, once the army had cleared matters up back in Mereina, their Gatekeeper opened that stone for anyone who wanted to leave. I asked to go to Tolamer. Figured I could find work at the castle, keep an eye on Sir Oreth, and give you warning if I ever saw him move forward with that whole Censure business.”

“Khorsal’s droppings,” Janel muttered as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t need your help.”

Given their most recent conversation on protection, Brother Qown understood why she’d say that, even though—from his perspective—she lied. Count Janel did need help. She needed as much help as she could get.

Ninavis raised an eyebrow. “I don’t hold to your idorrá ways, Count. I’ll help who I damn well like, and I don’t expect any hand-holding or oath swearing in return.”

“I just meant…” Janel inhaled. “You didn’t have to do this. Kalazan didn’t have to do this.”

“Beg your pardon, but we damn well think we do. Kalazan owes you thudajé and don’t you try to deny it. He’s baron because of you. You think he’s just going to forget?”

“And you? Didn’t you just say you don’t believe in this idorrá or thudajé business? Why are you doing this?”

“My reasons—”

Brother Qown cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but how are we going to find Dorna and Sir Baramon? If we don’t, there’s a very good chance they’ll run into Kovinglass when they return. Or worse, Sir Oreth or Relos Var.”

Ninavis startled. “Relos Var? He’s here?”

“Yes,” Janel said, “and just as much a villain as when last I saw him.”

Brother Qown turned to her. “Did he offer your grandfather the opportunity—?”

“No,” Janel said. “I’d never met the man before Mereina, nor seen his name mentioned in my grandfather’s papers. He told lies to Oreth, and whispered honey, and because Oreth is twice a damn fool he never thought to look for poison.” She slapped her hands against her hips. “The moment I learn Oreth is where I want him—on the verge of being too broke to continue with his schemes—Relos Var comes along. And with gifts and a cure for all Oreth’s problems. I was wrong. Oreth is in league with Yor. At least he is now. Damn the man to Hell.”

Brother Qown wasn’t sure which man she wished demonic vacations upon. Both, probably.

“But why approach Oreth?” Brother Qown asked. “What does Relos Var hope to gain from such a partnership? Revenge?”