“Or maybe he planned to kill us all along so it didn’t matter if we knew what he was,” Seren said.
“A possibility,” Dalan admitted.
“His guards were well armed and trained,” Seren said. “They were equipped like professional soldiers. I never saw the crest they wore before, but then I’ve never seen any soldiers other than Brelish ones.”
“Omax recognized their uniforms, and so did I when he described them to me,” Dalan said. “They were Cyran.”
“Cyre?” Seren said. “I didn’t think Cyre had an army. Or much of anything else.”
Dalan shrugged. “Many Cyran soldiers survived the Day of Mourning because they were in enemy lands. The armor and uniforms Omax described were those of the Eighty-Seventh Legion, a unit that was in Karrnath when the tragedy occurred. They became mercenaries after the Day of Mourning. Such a fate is unsurprising. Imagine what that must be like, Seren. To be a warrior, fighting for the future of your homeland in strange and distant country, only to discover that you now have no homeland. All that you’ve fought for, all that you’ve lived for, is now gone. You are now irrelevant. Yet the desire to fight remains, the desire to shed blood for a cause endures even though there is no cause at all, except perhaps vengeance. What life would beckon such a lost soul other than that of a mercenary? Those who fought for king and country now fight for gold and silver. It saddens me, to see my own countrymen fall to such a fate.”
“You’re Cyran?” she asked. Gunther hobbled out of his bed and sniffed Seren curiously for any sign of food. Finding none, the dog rested his head on her lap and waited to be petted.
“Many members of my House are Cyran,” Dalan said. “Fortunately, unlike the soldiers you met, most of my friends lived outside Cyre. My service to my house gives me continued purpose. But we are wandering far from the meat of this discourse. What else do you know of this Captain Marth?”
“Not much,” Seren said, scratching the dog’s ears absently. “Jamus wouldn’t tell me much about who we were working for. I think he wanted to protect me. He said that he had arranged for speaker posts to be sent to his allies, and he mentioned Fairhaven, but I don’t know anyone from there.”
“A bluff, most likely,” Dalan said. “Pity that you survived and he did not. His insight would no doubt be more illuminating than your own. No offense.” Dalan smiled insincerely. “Cheer up, little thief. I am certain you are better off without a master who would hitch your wagon to a killer. Indeed, if he truly wished to protect you, he should have avoided taking a job from someone so untrustworthy.”
“Are you done judging the dead, d’Cannith?” Seren asked.
“For now,” Dalan said. “I do tend to go on, a trait I inherited from my mother. A wonderful woman. Pray continue, Seren. Tell me whatever you can remember, no matter how insignificant.”
“Well, like I said, Jamus didn’t tell me much about our employer,” she answered. “I’m not even sure if we were working directly for Marth. I thought our employer was a woman, at least from the way Jamus spoke. Jamus was surprised when Marth arrived so early.”
“Interesting,” Dalan said, thumbing through the journal as he listened to Seren’s information. “Is there anything else?”
“He killed Jamus and set the inn on fire using magic,” she said. “Some sort of amethyst wand.”
Dalan’s eyes narrowed in thought. “That makes a great deal of sense,” he said. “I have suspected that our competitor was a student of artifice.”
“Competitor?” Seren asked.
“What I am about to say is quite delicate,” Dalan said. “It would be in your best interests, once you leave my ship, to forget what I tell you-not for my sake but your own. My troubles are a heavy thing, and could easily crush one as small as yourself. I am loath to even speak of them, but my associates promised you an exchange of information. As foolish as they may have been to make such an arrangement with a thief, I am a man of my word. Do you understand?”
Seren nodded.
“I reiterate the seriousness of this,” he said. “I am about to share perhaps more than Tristam’s arrangement requires because I feel sympathy, if not responsibility, for your friend’s death-but do not mistake sympathy for forgiveness or trust. You stole from me, Seren, and I do not abide thieves. However, I am not a monster, so I will offer you answers to lessen your pain. But realize that what I say to you will be entirely useless to you.”
“Useless?”
“Because the answers will have no true use to you,” he said. “If you betray my confidence, few will believe an insignificant thief. Those who might believe you would likely kill you, suspecting you know more than you do. You seem relatively intelligent, thus I am certain you will remain silent to avoid dangerous scrutiny. But if you do not, your death will trouble me little. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” Seren said.
“Then I will tell you what I can,” Dalan said. “I am currently engaged in a project that has consumed a great deal of my time for the past two years. I have certain competitors in this endeavor, and as much as I despise to admit it, this is not a race I am currently winning. Further, these competitors do not share my regard for law, honor, or human mercy. Various clues, not to mention their previous owners, have vanished or perished before I had a chance to investigate. I have long feared that my competitors might seek to derail my own meager progress, so I set this book aside as a trap. Though it greatly resembles other significant pieces of research written by its author, it is, as you know, not genuine. Tristam placed certain enchantments upon this volume that would allow him to follow it if it was stolen, as long as it remained within a certain range.”
“So that was why he interfered when the Watch stopped me,” Seren said. “He didn’t want me to get caught.”
“Not before we found out who you were working for,” Dalan answered with a small smile. “Unfortunately your escape from the Watch was a bit more dramatic than Tristam expected. It took him some time to untangle himself and, by the time he was able to triangulate the book’s location again, the inn was already surrounded by Marth’s henchmen. Being the impulsive individual he is, Tristam resolved to fight his way to rescue you rather than waiting to summon help. Omax is a more practical soul, but his single fault is that he invariably follows Tristam’s lead. Thus they became embroiled in the conflict before they realized how hopelessly outnumbered they were. You have already noted that I do not hesitate to condemn you for your previous actions, but neither will I balk at praising you for a job well done. I thank you for saving their lives. Tristam and Omax have many flaws, but their services are irreplaceable. I have precious few trustworthy allies.
“I know the feeling,” Seren said.
“Imagine my surprise,” Dalan said dryly. “Unfortunately, Tristam’s foolishness lost us much and gained little.” He sighed. “Other than your confirmation that this Captain Marth uses magic, happens to be a changeling, and bears a connection to the fallen nation of Cyre, we still know nothing about our enemy’s true identity. Knowing a changeling’s name means very little. They collect names as other men might collect interesting coins. They often hide behind other identities, live lives as humans or elves so that others will not distrust them for what they are. What truly bothers me is not his identity, but his efficiency. How does he learn so much while we learn so little? How can he command so many minions yet leave no trail?”
“It may not mean much,” Seren said, “but he tried to recruit me.”
Dalan’s eyebrows raised. “Recruit you?”
“He offered to spare my life if I joined him,” she said. “He thought I was an orphan of war.”
“Very interesting,” Dalan said. “The import is unclear, but interesting nonetheless.”
“So what comes next?” Seren asked.