The caravan continued into a large staging area, likely to accommodate the rough town influx in case of emergencies. The caravan peeled off, waving me goodbye as I followed Captain Ban. The inside of the town was far prettier than the plain stone walls outside. The buildings had sharp, sloping roofs to deal with the snow and were decorated with beautiful wooden trimmings with subtle curves and shapes that reminded me of spring in full bloom. Their shutters were painted a riot of colours. It was rather beautiful.

  The place was rich with earth and water glamour, the water glamour rising off the river below but also the channels all about. I was surprised to see guttering running through the streets. I could see it channelling the waste and debris of human life away. The gatehouse we approached was not so pretty—an imposing block of stone with wrought iron grilles over its windows.

  The whole building was reinforced with runic spells. I’d never had time to gain more than a passing knowledge of runes. I knew enough for glamour-gathering formations, some privacy formations, and a few other odds and ends. Beyond that, though, my knowledge of the sharp, chiselled shapes was next to nothing. I added equipment to scribe runes to my list of things to get. I was sure Bors would appreciate some added cultivation.

  Alexis looked unfazed by our current situation, so I chose to go with her. I was rapidly learning that, while I was good with people in a general sense, my common sense about what was normal was totally broken. If the Captain had addressed a Harkley like this, there would already be duels happening. I would never be so arrogant, but I was fundamentally unaware of how the world acted when I was not the face of a bunch of total arseholes.

  We were led to a small, well-appointed office. The man had a small picture of a young girl on his desk, and sheaves of paper with woodcut prints upon them were stacked neatly. I had long ago formed the habit of reading everything I came across, no matter the angle or ownership. The paper was a collection of warrants, bounties, and reports—all from the three nearest towns. Rasslig, the town the hunters were based out of, featured heavily.

  “Please sit. Before we have any misunderstandings, you’re not in trouble. I just want to hear out the situation. Also, I should properly introduce myself. I am Sir Castor Ban, retainer of the Fos, guard captain of the North Bridge.”

  “I am Taliesin, wandering troubadour, Bardic Cultivator of Bronze rank.”

  “I am Apprentice Alexis Wealdstone, junior alchemist. Wood rank,” Alexis said. It was the first time I’d heard Alexis’s surname. It wasn’t a House name but taken from her place of birth.

  “Thank you both for cooperating, and I appreciate the show. I was quite the musician in my younger days, so your playing was a rare treat. Now, you mentioned betrayal, and I see a lack of a wiry little schemer of an old man.”

  “Sir Ban, everything Taliesin said about Sir Bors is true. He did save us from all three issues, but at least one was no accident. I shall retrieve something to show you, if that is alright.” Alexis spoke first. I was only too happy to let her take the lead. Old instincts warned me to clam up, especially when a fresh curse made my tongue loose.

  “This is a pouch—one of a pair Kristoff admitted to stringing under my caravan at the behest of the Golden Hind Hunters’ Lodge. This is a training tool for fae beasts. I believe it was used to keep the Mist Lynx from approaching our caravan. A necessity, as they’d also planted a beast lure along with it.”

  “You’re sure of this?” The man’s eyes flicked up, and I could sense a bit of the Evil Eye stir behind his gaze—not at us, but his rage was palpable. Fosburg ran off caravans. Messing with them was an attack on its lifeblood.

  “Both myself and Taliesin were familiar with the smell and could identify it. I saved a small sample for analysis as well. It was a revenge plan. The hunters lost a Knight-level member to Sir Bors. They planned to leave the lure and the Lynx with it to kill Sir Bors.”

  “And Kristoff admitted to all this? Damn fool. I knew him to be a smuggler but thought he was smarter than this. I assume you handled him.”

  “Yes, he admitted he was paid by the hunters and tried to claim they had his family.” I stepped in.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “He’s been left by two wives and walked out on a third. No, pure greed was his motivator.” Ban grumbled.

  “I thought so too. I was also unimpressed that he chose to hang the pair under Apprentice Wealdstone’s wagon—a wagon he then stuck the other two young women in, under the pretence of protecting their virtue. It all went wrong when they were attacked by bandits, including cultivators, which drew the Lynx closer and pulled up Sir Bors’s attention as well.”

  “Come to think of it, we were meant to have a Squire escorting us, but he couldn’t make it. Now I realise the hunters must have forced him off. Kristoff also pushed for us to keep going, despite not having the protection,” Alexis said.

  “This is serious. The Golden Hind has quite a few members in our town. Only one is Iron-ranked, but they are important to Rasslig’s economy, so this report is going to need to be detailed. I’m sorry, Apprentice Wealdstone, but I’ll need to know who your master is. It’s best if we get you a protection detail while we sort all this out.”

  “Oh, I’m apprenticed to Miss Peaches. I should be fine.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  The man went totally still, his whole body locking up. Only his eyes changed, irises widening in shock.

  I felt it then. Power. The world around us contracted, my skin, bones, and soul throttled by it. I heard the door open behind us. The light of the study didn’t pass that ominous portal, but I could sense something behind us.

  My body, accustomed to situations of immense pressure, reacted even as my mind lay dull. I felt my lute shift in my hand to a blade. It came with an explosion of smoke glamour as I pushed far too much energy towards the fae device.

  I stood between Alexis and the monster in the doorway, blade out, body shaking. My only thought was to somehow buy a moment for her to escape whatever devilry this was.

  “Miss Peaches, please stop. He’s a friend,” Alexis said, her voice exasperated rather than screaming in fear like any sane person might expect. With that, the weight was gone.

  I sagged to my knees, finding myself looking upon a rail-thin woman. Her hair was grey, her face wrinkled and buried beneath a dark green coat, with a shawl wrapped around her head.

  Despite looking like a well-dressed mortal grandmother, she was scary beyond all reason. No one thing about her was upsetting, but right now, terror consumed me. My blood pounded in my ears, and my throat was dry.

  “Oh, Alexis, I was so worried. I heard you were rushed off by this rust bucket for questioning. Let me look at you.” The woman stepped right past me as I sucked in rough breaths. Behind me, I think I heard a ‘glurk’ from the Captain.

  “Ow, why do you always pinch my cheeks? I’m fine, Miss Peaches. I was saved by a Knight and helped by Taliesin here. The Captain has been nothing but respectful, and I must admit I forgot to inform him of who I was apprenticed to.” Alexis spoke to her as one might a doting relative.

  “So the rust bucket didn’t haul one of my girls off without asking. That’s good to know,” the witch said.

  I heard deep breaths resume behind me as Captain Ban was freed from her Evil Eye. I shuddered. I’d heard that witches used the Evil Eye on a whole other level. I’d thought years of the Harkleys throwing it around as a way to win arguments had steeled me to its effects, but I was wrong. If she’d pinned down the Captain, though, she had to be Steel-ranked.

  “Alexis, we cannot have you late for supper. Captain Ban, I trust my Apprentice can come with me.”

  “Yes, please. My apologies, Elder Nimue,” he choked out.

  “Elder” was a title for a Steel-rank witch. Being correct in my assessment of her power gave me no reassurance—not as her attention turned to me.

  “Young man, you showed surprising fortitude. You will visit my humble abode five days hence, at the eleventh bell, for tea. I’m sure the Captain can give you directions.”

  As quickly as she’d appeared, she was gone, with only Alexis mouthing “sorry” to mark her passing. Then, even though she was gone, the door closed.

  Captain Ban stood rigidly and shuffled over to a cabinet, from which he pulled a large bottle of whiskey and a pair of glasses. I managed to get my legs under me on the third attempt.

  “Damn impressive, you being able to move,” he grunted and began to pour.

  “I’m used to harsh critique,” I managed—the half-truth.

  “I take it you didn’t know about her?” He passed me the whiskey, which I went to sip. He downed his in a single gulp before pouring another. The flavour was rich and peaty. From the Lands of Woad, no doubt.

  “No idea,” I said.

  “Well, at least the Golden Hind isn’t my problem anymore—or at least only as much as signing off a load of suicides.”

  “Suicides?”

  “What else do you call pissing off someone like her? Look, how about I agree to not ask about nor mention your sword there to anyone, and you agree to never speak to anyone about what happened in this room?”

  He pointed to my still-transformed lute. I’d curse my sloppiness in not changing it back, but in truth, it was a wonder I’d retained enough control to not shift my clothes into armour as well.

  “Deal,” I replied.

  “Haaaa. I will also be putting you up for the next few days, and I hope you take no offence if I have you all but marched to her door tomorrow.”

  “Seems like a sensible plan.”

  I finished my drink and found another poured for me.

  “I must ask you in advance to humour my daughter.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “You’ll see.” Was that a fourth glass he’d just finished?