“Only after I recognized all the earmarks of Jamus’s work,” Dalan said. “Seren used all of Roland’s techniques to break into my office. When I realized that Jamus’s life was at risk-that was when I sent you to investigate.”
“Without having any idea what we were walking into,” Tristam said.
“Omax is a warrior, even if you are not,” Dalan said. “He is always prepared.”
“True,” the warforged said.
Tristam glanced from Omax to Dalan angrily. “But you chose not to tell us any of this until now?” he asked, flustered.
Zed laughed. “Not trying to make excuses,” he said, “but does any of this really surprise you, coming from Dalan? I’d wager there’s a great deal more that he doesn’t think is worth mentioning.”
The crew was silent for a long time. Tristam glared at d’Cannith in tense silence. Dalan looked back impassively. Eraina folded her arms across her chest and stared at the deck.
“I don’t know what to think of all of this,” Tristam finally said, an edge of anger in his voice. “Did you know that Marth was Orren Thardis all along?”
Dalan blinked. “No,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I never knew that at all.” A wicked smile twisted his jowls. “A very interesting revelation, Tristam. That certainly explains a great deal.”
“Who in Khyber is Orren Thardis?” Zed asked. “Why is that name familiar?”
“He was the captain of my uncle’s third vessel,” Dalan said. “The Dying Sun. He followed Ashrem into Cyre on the Day of Mourning. I had assumed he was dead.”
“Like you assumed Kiris Overwood was dead,” Zed said.
“Hardly a coincidence,” Eraina said. “He must have rescued her from the Mournland. That would explain why she was willing to die for him.”
“If Thardis is Marth, his obsession with my uncle’s work becomes a great deal clearer,” Dalan said. “I knew Thardis hid his talents as an artificer, but I never knew he was a changeling.”
“What we never knew grows every day,” Gerith said.
Omax nodded vigorously.
“Seren salvaged a few of Kiris’s journals,” Tristam said. “They aren’t written in the same impossible code as Ashrem’s, so we may be able to learn something from them.”
“Excellent,” Dalan said. “We will have several days of idle time during our repairs and travel to Korth. To gain ground would be a welcome change.”
“I hope so,” Tristam said.
“Any more questions?” Dalan asked. “If you wish for truth, ask for it all. I don’t like these uncomfortable suspicions.”
“Only one,” Tristam said, looking at Dalan evenly. “Zed told me you recruited me to replace Marth. Did you really pick me because you thought I was an easily manipulated fool?”
“Those weren’t my exact words,” Zed interrupted.
“Yes,” Dalan said curtly, returning Tristam’s gaze. “When you served my uncle you were headstrong, impetuous, and eager to please. The slightest criticism crushed you, while the smallest compliment could buy your loyalty for weeks. I believed you would be the perfect pawn, talented but malleable.”
Tristam’s face darkened.
“Stay your temper, Tristam,” Dalan said. “You’ve proven me quite wrong, and I am glad for that. Your ability to think for yourself has saved us all, time and again.”
Tristam’s eyes widened, surprised by Dalan’s use of his first name.
“Marshal, am I lying?” Dalan asked.
“No,” the paladin replied.
“There you have it,” Dalan said. “Now if you will pardon me, I am not a young man, and I am still exhausted from my kidnapping and torture. If there is anything further, I shall be in my cabin.” Dalan stood and made to return to his chambers.
“I don’t think I trust you anymore, Dalan,” Tristam said to the guild master’s back.
“Good,” Dalan replied. “You’ve finally caught up with the rest of the world. Thank you again for saving my life.” He closed the door behind him.
“Infuriating man,” Eraina said, returning to the bow of the ship.
Zed chuckled and strolled off to help Omax with the ship’s maintenance. Gerith disappeared into the galley. Tristam stared at the hatch of Dalan’s cabin for nearly a minute, then headed below deck, mumbling something about Kiris’s journals. Seren started to follow him, but stopped. She moved to Dalan’s cabin, knocking quietly on the hatch.
“Enter,” said Dalan’s voice.
She slid the hatch open a crack and slipped inside. Dalan sat on his cot, a book open in his lap. Gunther lay at the foot of the bed, nose nestled between his shaggy paws. His tail thumped the cot in recognition.
“Seren,” Dalan said, looking up over his reading glasses. “What can I do for you?”
“Was Jamus Roland really your friend?” she asked softly.
“A complex question,” Dalan said. “As I have told you before, the term ‘friend’ is not one that I value. It is bandied about too easily. A man who calls himself a friend might draw his sword against you if it serves his purposes tomorrow, particularly during the Last War. We were spies, Seren. Such men do not give or accept trust easily. Yet I trusted Jamus Roland. I fought beside him, and we saved one another’s lives on a few occasions.” Dalan laughed. “What’s more, I even liked him. I can count the people I have ever truly liked on less than one hand. So if that is what you call a friend, then yes, he was my friend.”
Seren hugged her arms against her chest, chewing over a thought for several moments before speaking. “Is that why you really kept me here, then?” she asked. “Because I knew Jamus and you felt sorry for me?”
“Haha, no,” Dalan said. “That would have been my motivation when I quietly arranged for you to be transported home to Ringbriar with a small sum of money, as I initially planned. I was a great deal more pleased when you proved to be indispensable. I find it comforting to have Jamus’ apprentice with us. It is as if he is here, in a way, though you smell a great deal nicer than he did.”
Seren laughed. “So you fought beside Jamus?” she asked.
“A few times, yes,” Dalan said. “I was never much of a warrior, but that man was deadly with a dagger.”
Seren nodded. “So you’ve seen him fight.”
“What are you getting at, Seren?” he asked warily.
“The other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” she said. “Jamus taught me to fight. I’m not the sort to brag, but he always said I was a talented student-as good as he was in his time.”
“How nice for you,” Dalan said, looking slightly confused. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, I just wanted you to know,” she said.
“Why?” he asked, sensing more.
Seren shrugged. “Because I know Eraina’s ability to detect lies isn’t infallible, and that if anyone is adept at dancing around the truth, it’s you. I just hope you’re telling Tristam everything. For your sake.” Seren looked at him coldly. “If you hurt Tristam, you won’t see me coming.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dalan said, his voice breaking a little.
“Enjoy your book.” Seren said. She smiled brightly and left the cabin.
Dalan stared at the hatch for a good, long time.
THREE
Karrnath is your homeland, isn’t it, Eraina?” Zed asked as she joined him at the rail.
The paladin nodded, looking down at the approaching town of Vulyar with a solemn expression.
“What can you tell me about this town?” he asked.
“There’s very little to tell,” she said. “Just another town. Peaceful. Never saw a lot of battle. Invaders usually stop at Fort Bones to the southwest, so Vulyar escaped the Last War virtually unscathed. It is a boring place, unless you’re a merchant, but sometimes ‘boring’ can be a godsend.”
“Fort Bones?” Pherris asked, looking at her curiously. “What a dreadful name. Why would someone give that sort of name to a place?”
“It’s something of a legend of the Last War,” she said. “The fort was razed after a surprise attack, but the Karrns rallied and won the day. They had to rebuild, and quickly. So they used the bones of their enemies to fortify the walls.”