His stern expression soured into a frown. “These appear to be in order. According to procedure, I will send them to my archivist for her seal.”

“As you must,” agreed Lord Duenn. “As for this thief, she is also a murderer. When she was a sentinel in Duenn Manor, she killed her own captain, Roel Duennol.”

The accusation brought silence and many shocked stares.

The intendant rubbed his forehead, looking exhausted. “This is a grave charge. Deputy Courier, do you have anything to say?”

Lord Duenn spoke before Elen could. “This person is still a member of the Duenn Manor militia. She was never formally released from my service. Therefore, Intendant, I need not ask your permission. I can invoke my right as lord of Duenn Manor to have this menial executed immediately for her offenses against the Manor.”

He signaled, and the militiamen on either side of her wrenched her down to her knees. One pushed her head down, as if putting her in place for the lop of an axe against her exposed neck. Her body tingled with old, remembered terror. Did Duenn intend to draw his sword and kill her on the spot?

Yet, at the same time, the threat of imminent death stirred the viper at her heart, and sharpened her mind. She noted the intendant glance toward his sentinel captain and give a nod; noted sentinels shifting position, in case they needed to fight the newcomers.

In a slow, cold voice, the intendant said, “This is highly irregular.”

Duenn cleared his throat. “Very well. As a courtesy to your authority, I call for an investigation. Let no one say I have used this matter to carry out a personal vendetta. It would be best if the trial were held in Duenn Manor, where folk recall the unpleasant incident and can give testimony. To that end, now that I have found my daughter, I will turn over the manifest of caravan goods into your keeping.”

“And then?” the intendant asked, still in that chilly tone.

“My intention is to return with my party to Ilvewind Cross, record my claim for the child with the provincial governor, and afterward make my way home into the western territory of Woodfall via the Northwest Road. I will certainly be glad to never again set foot in this Heavens-forsaken intendancy.”

Silence followed this insulting statement. No one dared speak aloud, but one of the militiamen next to Elen whispered, “Maybe you don’t remember me, but I remember how you cheated and won that card game, and took my gloves as your prize. I’ll get you back for it, you’ll see.” He nudged her with a boot, not hard enough to knock her over, but firm enough to promise a beating to come.

Breathe, she told herself, looking up toward the front of the hall as the hand of the other militiaman kept her pressed to her knees.