“Nope.”
“And they can’t leave it?”
“Doubtful.”
Lew shuddered and moved a little closer to his wife.
“If they’re not part of the New Chester watch, these fellows must be from Narrowmar,” Jemma said.
“What are they doing all the way down here?” Nat asked.
“Let’s find out.” Archer donned a pair of gloves and knelt beside the prisoner still sleeping by the campfire and pushed back his burgundy sleeve so he could remove the curse stone wedged against the man’s wrist. Just before it came loose, Jemma put a hand on Archer’s shoulder.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t be the one to talk to him,” she said. “This close to—”
“Good point,” Archer said. “Esteban, would you do the honors?”
Briar frowned as Archer and Jemma moved out of the prisoner’s line of sight. They were afraid of being recognized close to New Chester? Or was it Narrowmar itself that worried them?
Esteban crouched over the prisoner like a scrawny vulture. He removed the curse stone with a black silk handkerchief and held it gingerly away from him, as if it were goat feces. “Wake up.”
The prisoner’s eyes popped open. Disoriented, he blinked at the mage glowering down at him. Blemishes pitted his face, and he couldn’t be much older than Nat. He jerked his wrists a few times, but his bonds held.
“Who is your liege lord?” Esteban asked.
The young man jutted out his spotty chin. “I don’t have to answer your questions, villain.”
Esteban sighed and mumbled something that sounded like “one of those.” He seized the prisoner’s coat. “These are Lord Larke’s colors. Unless you’re an imposter—”
“I serve Lord Larke, as do all loyal freemen in this county.” The young man looked affronted at the imposter suggestion.
“You’re a long way from Larke Castle,” Lew said calmly.
The prisoner started at the sight of Lew’s hulking form at Esteban’s side. “His lordship’s dominion stretches—”
“We know where the county borders are,” Esteban said impatiently. “If you’re this far out in the woods, you must be based at Narrowmar, correct?”
The prisoner paled, the spots standing out on his chin. “I’m not going to tell a bunch of thieves anything.”
“What makes you think we’re thieves?” Esteban leaned closer, and the prisoner pulled back as far he could with the campfire behind him. The firelight cast lurid shadows across Esteban’s gaunt face. “Did you know we’d be out here?”
“I don’t even know who you are.” A youthful squeak snuck into his voice. “I swear.”
“Then why attack us?” Lew asked. “We were minding our own business. Last I heard, even Lord Larke doesn’t order his men to murder private citizens for no reason.”
The prisoner looked around nervously. Lew loomed beside Esteban, his arms folded over his chest in an intimidating fashion. Nat mimicked him, with slightly less successful results. But the blood on their clothes made them all look ghoulish.
Then the prisoner’s gaze fell on the bodies of his comrades. “You’re obviously criminals,” he said. “We—”
“Attacked us without provocation, forcing us to defend ourselves.” Esteban gave him a shake. “How did you know we would be here?”
“I … I didn’t. You were just … that is, we thought …”
“You thought you’d kill us in the woods and steal our horses perhaps?” Esteban rasped. “I wonder what Lord Larke would have to say about that. You’ll be responsible, of course, as the only survivor.”
“It wasn’t … I didn’t …” The prisoner broke out in a sweat, looking genuinely scared.
Briar didn’t blame him. Esteban looked ready to cut the prisoner’s throat out of pure irritation. She’d never seen the team look so dangerous.
When Esteban muttered, “I am bored of this circular conversation,” the prisoner cracked like a pigeon egg.
“Everyone knows who you are,” he blurted out. “There’s a wanted poster in every village from here to the Northrun River with your faces on it. They’re offering a reward and everything!”
“Really?” Nat relaxed his intimidating pose. “What’s the reward?”
Lew rolled his eyes. “Would it be worth temporarily selling out the lad here?”
“They want us alive, right?” Nat asked, giving Lew a wounded look. “We’re no good to them dead.”
“You’re no good to anyone.” Lew cuffed Nat on the back of the head. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’ve seen plenty of wanted posters in my day. They probably have one drawing to represent all the young farm lads who’ve ever turned to thievery.” He combed a hand through his red beard. “The more distinguished among us, on the other hand—”
“You’re both on the poster,” the prisoner said to Lew, some of the color returning to his face. “And your woman and the voice mage.” His eyes darted to Esteban, whose mouth twisted sourly at the news.
“What about me?” Briar asked.
The prisoner leaned sideways to get a better look at her. “No, you’re not on there.”
Archer’s face was unreadable in the quivering shadows. He signaled something to Lew, who nodded and squatted down beside Esteban and the prisoner. “So the young lad, myself and my lady wife, and the mage are all called thieves on these posters?”
“That’s right.”
“But not the girl?”
“No.”
“And no one else?”
“No one.”
Briar looked at Archer again. If the authorities had such detailed knowledge of the gang, why weren’t they asking for information about its leader? He didn’t quite meet her eyes.
“Were these posters commissioned by Lord Larke?” Lew asked the prisoner.
The young man nodded. “He’s the one offering a bounty for your capture, and he doesn’t mind if you’re dead.”
“How did you know we would be here?”
“We really were on patrol.” Since he had started talking anyway, the prisoner didn’t hold back. “We’re supposed to keep folks from wandering into New Chester, but when we saw you, we reckoned we’d try for the bounty too. We didn’t account for the sorcery.” The prisoner’s gaze flitted from Esteban’s face to the blue curse stone lying in the dirt beside him.
“Can you tell us what happened in New Chester?” Briar asked.
The young man shifted uneasily and glanced at the shadowy trees. “The villagers angered
