Chapter 23

 

 

Melissa followed William’s gaze to a small group of people approaching them. The color of the banner and pennant were difficult to make out in the dark, but the four guards in dress uniform were unmistakable. “Is that the duke?” she asked.

“Only one way to find out,” said William. He grabbed her hand and sprinted toward them, intercepting them before they could reach the crowd. “Duke Vincent?”

A guard stepped forward, spear pointed at William. “Back away, sir. The duke is on urgent business.”

William raised his hands in submission. “Our business with him is urgent as well,” he said as he tried to look past the guards blocking his view. “I’m William Whitehall.”

“Did he say Whitehall?” asked a voice from behind the guards. A man pushed his way between them and stepped forward. He was fiftyish, sporting a finely-trimmed goatee, and dressed in the finest clothes William had ever seen. “Did you say Whitehall?” he repeated to William.

“Yes, your grace,” said William. “And this is my wife Melissa.”

Vincent stared at him, trying to decide whether to believe him. “I don’t have time for games. Prove to me who you are: what was your first report at the Marshland Library?”

William’s eyes widened. “Bandit activity in the Marshland region.”

Vincent smiled and extended his hand. “I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Lord William, although I didn’t imagine it would be under these conditions.”

“Sorry about that, your grace. Everybody wants to see the dragons.”

“Dragons? When we caught word about this crowd, the name ‘Whitehall’ was on everyone’s lips. No mention of dragons.” He turned to one of the guards. “Hector, see if you can disperse this crowd.”

The guard looked frightened by the idea. “And leave you unprotected, your grace?”

“Don’t worry,” said Vincent with a smirk. “I have the Defender of Rebel Falls and his famous sword by my side. I’ll be fine.”

The four guards left them, leaving only a flag-bearer William hadn’t noticed before. Two poles rested on his heavy belt, one bearing the pennant, the other the banner.

“We do have an urgent matter we need your help with, your grace,” said Melissa. “We asked Harbormaster Ungless to blockade the choke points, but she says she can’t spare the ships.”

“Blockade?” asked Vincent. “Whatever for?”

William explained the situation, and Vincent’s face grew grim. “I see,” he said. “Let’s have a word with the harbormaster, shall we?” He motioned William toward the doors.

“Not you again,” said Ungless as she saw William. “I don’t have time to deal with—oh! Your grace! What can I do for you?”

“I think you know what you can do for me, Keri,” said Vincent. “I know your people are busy dealing with smugglers, but the whole point of that is to prevent the loss of tax revenue. Now we have a whole boatload of taxes about to slip through our fingers. How do you propose to stop it?”

Ungless did her best to cover her feelings, but her heaving chest and an angry glance toward William gave her away. “A blockade at the choke points would make the most sense, your grace,” she said. “But it will take time to gather the ships and position them. It won’t likely be done until morning.”

Vincent nodded. “In the meantime, send your fastest boats to the choke points and order the chains set, and the red lanterns lit. We’ll have no traffic in or out until you can set the blockades. When the blockades are in place, we’ll have only inbound traffic until I say otherwise. Am I clear?”

Ungless sighed. “As clear as the sky on a sunny day, your grace.” She turned to pull the rope behind her, which rang a bell somewhere on the floor above them. The clamor of boots quickly followed, and several men and women ran down a set of stairs at the rear. She gave quick orders, and the crew departed with barely a word. Ungless turned back to the earl. “I’ll pull the ships from other duties as they check in, sir. With the night breeze, we’ll have the chains up in three or four hours, and a proper blockade in twelve.”

“Very good, Keri. Keep my clerks informed of any changes or anything unusual.”

“Yes, sir. And Lord William, if I may…I apologize if I seemed rude earlier.”

“Not at all,” said William. “You’re busy and I arrived unannounced.”

Ungless nodded toward the door. “It wouldn’t surprise me if my husband was in that crowd outside. I’m not sure who’s a bigger fan of yours: him, or our son. They both read every book they can about you.”

William looked at the ceiling in exasperation. “I’m tired of hearing about those books. If I find out who wrote them, I’ll—”

“Not now, Will,” said Melissa. “Thank you, harbormaster. And you as well, your grace. Perhaps we should see how our friends are doing.”

The crowd had finally dissipated, shepherded across a nearby bridge by the duke’s bodyguards. Several remained to watch from a tavern patio across the water, a few pointing at William as he and the others emerged from the office. Vincent recognized Jack immediately and extended his hand in greeting.

“Hello, your grace,” said Jack as they shook. “How long has it been—a year? Two?”

“Longer than that I suspect, Jack,” said the duke as he shook Jack’s hand. “How long since your father was named Earl of Rebel Falls? I believe I saw you about a year after that. Maya, Charlie—a pleasure as always.” He turned to Rachel. “You look familiar, but I’m having trouble recalling the name. Have we met?”

“Rachel Malen, your grace,” answered Rachel. “We haven’t met, but I’ve gladly pocketed your silver.”

The duke stared at her with a puzzled look, until he remembered. “Of course, you accompanied William and Maya on their mission. You appear to have recovered from your injury at Rebel Falls.”

She flexed an arm and laughed. “Stronger than ever, your grace.”

“And these must be the silver drones I’ve heard so much about. Magnificent creatures! Do they speak?”

“Adonis does, sir,” said William. “That’s this one. I’m not sure about the others.”

“My brothers do not speak your language,” said Adonis, startling the duke. “Only I was taught, as my queen deemed it necessary for my duties.”

“And this smaller dragon? I’ve read about all different sorts of dragons, but I was unaware of any green ones.”

“This is Clyde, your grace,” said William. “Padma—the dragon queen—asked me to foster him.”

“A pet dragon…astonishing!” said the duke. “And you flew here? How long did that take?”

“Eight or nine hours, I believe,” said William. ”With a few stops along the way. We were delayed at Kolmo.”

“I can believe it,” said the duke. “Between you and me, I avoid the place. But enough small talk—you must be famished. My estate is on an island not far from here. I’m about to be rowed back there myself, so I should see you in about an hour. My butler Reggie will attend to your needs in my absence.”

Maya touched the duke’s elbow. “I have an idea, your grace. Charlie and I would like to see our families, as we’ve been away for several weeks. We can walk from here. Would you like to fly back to your estate on one of our drones?”

A grin slowly spread across Vincent’s face. “Show me what to do.”

Minutes later, they soared toward an island a few miles past the river delta, landing on a large lawn in front of a gargantuan manor house. William couldn’t perceive many details in the darkness, but he could tell it dwarfed his own. It had three floors, and a massive set of stone steps leading to double doors on the second level. Servants scurried about on the ground level, their silhouettes visible in the well-lit windows.

Vincent dismounted, breathless with excitement. “What a ride! I do hope I get a chance to fly like that again. The view must be even greater in daylight.”

William smiled at the duke’s exuberance, but urgency forced him to change the subject. “Your grace, can the dragons hunt anywhere nearby? They haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Not exactly the same as feeding horses, is it?” asked Vincent. “Not to worry—I have several sheep on the island to keep the grass low. How many will they eat? They’re cheap enough to replace, but I’ll have to order them.”

“One each per day,” replied Adonis. “Perhaps twice that if we fly as much as we did today.”

Vincent smiled at the dragon. “I should be generous after such a ride. I’ll have the stable hands bring fourteen for your supper, and seven more for breakfast. And what about young Clyde here? What does he eat? Chicken? Fish? I imagine a whole sheep would be too large for him.”

“He eats plants, your grace,” said William. “Vegetable scraps from the kitchen would be fine. I wouldn’t advise letting him graze—he nearly destroyed my garden.”

Vincent laughed. “A vegetarian dragon. Lord William, you do lead an interesting life, don’t you?”

He led them through the giant double doors, and William was struck immediately by the sumptuous wood paneling, stone floors, massive tapestries, and large paintings adorning the walls. Vases and statues lined the foyer walls, sharing space with cushioned benches and intricately carved side tables. Straight ahead was a second staircase, and on either side of it a hallway led somewhere unseen.

With a wave of his arm, Vincent guided them to the right. “Let’s head to the dining room, shall we? I’ll send word to Reggie that we’ve arrived early.”

Melissa nudged William as they walked and whispered to him. “See what a home can look like if you add a few nice touches?”

“If I live to a hundred, I could never afford the touches we saw in the foyer alone,” he whispered back.

The dining hall was even more stunning. It lacked the fireplace of his own dining hall, but it was far brighter, being lit by two chandeliers above the expansive table. Thirty ornate chairs sat in front of thirty ornate settings, each with silver forks, knives, and spoons, as well as gold-trimmed plates. Drinking glasses sparkled in the light, creating an aura of crystal fire down the center of the table. All of this sat on a carpet so luxurious that William couldn’t even guess at its origin.

“Ah, hello Reggie,” said Vincent as a man appeared in livery so fine it put William’s best clothes to shame. “Dinner for six with all possible haste. Seven if you intend to join us.”

“Very good, sir,” said Reggie with an air that was somehow both haughty and humble at the same time. “If you don’t mind me saying, there appears to be a green dragon in your dining hall. You’ve left the front door open again, haven’t you sir?”

“How clumsy of me,” said Vincent with a grin. “This is Clyde. Could you have the cook collect some vegetable scraps for him? We’ll serve him in the corner nearest William so he’s comfortable.”

“That’s kind of you, your grace,” said William.

Vincent turned to him with a friendly smile. “William, I prefer to use first names in my home. There’s plenty enough formality to be had elsewhere if you enjoy it, but I tire of it easily. Are you comfortable dropping titles for now?”

William laughed. “I’m happy to drop mine for good, if it comes to that.”

“Well, don’t be too hasty,” replied Vincent with a wink. “A title comes in handy from time to time. Come, let us sit. Reggie will have the footmen bring wine, and the food will follow shortly.”

Vincent guided them to their seats, placing William at his right, with Melissa beside him, Rachel and Jack across from them respectively. Oz sat next to Melissa, looking distraught. “This doesn’t feel right, my Lady,” he said to Melissa in a low voice. “I should be serving, not sitting.”

“Is there a problem?” asked Vincent.

“Oz isn’t used to eating at the table,” explained Melissa. “He’s our butler back home.”

“Butler is an exalted position in this house,” explained Vincent. “I hope you can be comfortable here.”

“I’ll do my best, uh…Vincent,” said Oz, looking as though he’d prefer to crawl under the table rather than utter a nobleman’s name.

Wine and water were served immediately, footmen gliding around the table with impossible grace. Glasses were filled with the least intrusion, with never a drop spilled or clumsy sound made. Vincent turned to William as a thin soup was served. “This stolen tax money—how much was it?”

“In excess of ten thousand crowns,” said William. “Or so says Earl Bradford.”

“And the earl has offered a reward?”

“Ten percent.”

Vincent gave a rueful half-smile. “I wouldn’t put it past Bradford to understate the amount so as to reduce the reward, but we’ll let the number stand for the moment. The important question is who’s behind this? And why?”

William sat back and breathed a huge sigh. “I wish I knew,” he said. “The whole matter has been confusing from the start. The truth is, we have no solid facts to go on.”

“Trust your intuition, William,” said Vincent. “Your initial reports from the Library on bandit activity caught my attention because you determined the truth from information that appeared unconnected. You had no new facts, but you rearranged the existing facts in a way that led to a correct conclusion. Maybe you can work that magic again.”

“All I have is a hunch. Nothing more than a guess.”

“Then let’s hear it,” said Vincent, tapping the table lightly for emphasis. “If you can support your hunch with facts, we’ll use it as a working hypothesis.”

William took a deep breath. “Very well. As Lester Cairns said to me, this doesn’t seem like a simple robbery. Ten thousand crowns is a huge amount of money, at least to me, but given the number of people involved, it couldn’t have been for personal gain.”

“How do you mean?” asked Vincent.

“Dozens of guards were involved. From what Sir Hendrick told us, many of his veterans were promoted away and replaced with new recruits from the Faywater Academy. That means not only were the guards themselves involved, but also some of their superiors. The same is true for the earl’s office staff. That two high-ranking officials in two different professions should be involved in the same crime feels less like a robbery than a rebellion.”

“A rebellion?” said Vincent with a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t that a stretch? A rebellion involves overthrowing an entire government. These folks occupied one town and gave it up later without a fight. How can you call that a rebellion?”

William drummed his fingers on the table as he considered his response. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said finally. “It sounds like I’m calling it a rebellion because it looked like a small one. But that’s not what I’m saying. I believe this was merely preparation for the real thing.”

Vincent gaped at him, his eyes sharp with interest. “Now that’s a dramatic statement,” he said.

“An overstatement, if you ask me,” said Jack. “Preparation for what, Will? None of the guards involved can ever show their faces here. And any sort of practice they had is useless because they’ll never be guards again.”

“Not necessarily,” said William. “They can change their names and go somewhere else easily enough. Plenty of people lived under assumed names in Rebel Falls; I should know because I took the census. But I wasn’t talking about practice—I meant preparation.”

“What sort of preparation?” asked Vincent.

William’s face turned red. “I don’t know yet.”

Nobody laughed at him, but Jack shook his head. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

“I haven’t concluded anything,” said William defensively. “I was asked for my hunches, and I’m giving them.”

“It’s worth exploring,” said Vincent, giving William an encouraging smile. “Presuming your hunch is true, who would be behind this rebellion?”

William looked across the table at Rachel. Her face remained stony, her eyes giving nothing away. She wasn’t ready to say anything—that much was clear. He was on his own in this matter, and would need to give his own evidence, scanty though it was. He turned to Vincent again. “You’ll recall I had some experience with rebels. In fact, we named a town after them.”

Vincent chuckled. “My dear William, no one will forget that fact for generations.”

William turned red again but pressed on. “I spent a good deal of time with Kaleb Antony, their leader. He never mentioned any names, but he made clear to me that someone else—not him—would replace Duncan Thorsten as king of Esper, and that his group was one of many preparing for an eventual rebellion. We only ran into them and spoiled their plans out of simple luck.”

“You found them within fifty miles of your report’s estimate,” said Vincent. “That doesn’t sound like luck.”

“Maybe so, but we weren’t even looking for them. We simply stumbled into their camp on the way home from the mission. We had no intention of finding either bandits or rebels.”

“What’s your point?” asked Jack. “You seem to be taking the long way around to it.”

William turned to Jack with a look of impatience. “My point is that we never found any other such camps, anywhere on Esper, at least not to my knowledge.”

“Nor to mine,” said Vincent. “And the council of dukes would certainly be informed if they were.”

William nodded and pressed on. “So that means, if we’re to believe what Antony told me, there must still be an active rebellion growing throughout Esper.”

Silence filled the room. The only sound was the gentle clink of metal on plates as the footmen served a course of lamb. When the footmen departed, Vincent spoke again, his voice solemn. “Of course there is.”

“You know this for sure?” asked Jack, who appeared stunned at the revelation.

“It’s an inevitable conclusion, Jack,” said Vincent. “And I know your father thinks so too. More importantly, the council of dukes views this matter seriously, though we rarely speak of it outside our meetings with the prime minister. Even the king isn’t included in these conversations. William, you’ve impressed me once again. You’ve concluded in ten minutes what took the council more than three years. Now, perhaps you can go one step further, a step the council hasn’t yet made. Who is leading this rebellion?”

William stole another glance at Rachel and got the same stony expression as before. He carried on anyway, pausing a moment to reflect first. “After I was rescued, Sir Hendrick and I tried to guess at Antony’s plans. Sir Hendrick tried some unsavory methods of extracting the truth, but none of Antony’s men knew or admitted anything about who their ultimate leader was. Still, Sir Hendrick shared his hunch with me: Zander Bertrand.”

Vincent’s eyebrows shot up. “Duke Zander of Stansby?”

“Acting Duke,” said Rachel, surprising even herself with what seemed like an angry, automatic response.

“Until the king confirmed him,” corrected Vincent. “You know your politics well, young lady, although from your accent I’d say it was local politics for you.”

Rachel shrugged, reverting to her earlier blank expression.

Vincent continued. “William, Duke Zander may have reached his position by questionable means, and many citizens of Stansby like Rachel were distraught by it, but he is one of King Duncan’s most fervent supporters. Whenever the king needs something—an investigation, a committee chaired, additional guards—Zander provides it before anyone else thinks to volunteer. He handles more of Duncan’s responsibilities than Duncan does himself.”

Jack scratched his chin and frowned. “Aren’t responsibility and power almost the same thing?”

“Almost,” agreed Vincent. “But not quite. Perhaps Zander does it as penance for how he obtained his position. Or maybe it’s payment for Duncan confirming his claim. Regardless, he is doing the kingdom a kindness.”

“Sounds like my father,” said Oz, who quickly covered his mouth, mortified at his own outburst. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oz, you’re a guest at my table and have every right to speak,” said Vincent. “I’m puzzled though, and I apologize if this sounds indelicate, but given that you’re a butler, it seems unlikely that your father was a nobleman. Was he?”

“No, sir,” said Oz, regaining his composure. “Just a drunk.”

“How does it sound like your father, Oz?” asked William. “I’m not doubting you,” he added quickly. “I’m just puzzled.”

Oz hesitated a moment, as though searching for the right words. “Dad would wake up late most mornings, usually hungover. He would search the house for beer or wine, and sometimes he’d find it. Other times he’d have to go out looking for it. But his reason was always the same: so he could feel good enough to work and earn money for food and rent. But as soon as he started drinking, he wanted more. Pretty soon he’d be drunk enough to start a fight, and that’s when I had to leave the house. I learned some pretty bad things from him, and then I started doing bad things to other people.” He shot a shameful glance at William. “Anyway, it sounds like what this duke is doing—making an excuse to do what he was going to do anyway, because he can’t get enough of it.” He stared at his plate for several seconds. “He could never get enough.”

Vincent nodded thoughtfully. “Power and alcohol—both powerful drugs, and only those who don’t need them should have them. That’s insightful of you, Oz. I’m still not convinced Zander’s our man, though.”

“What would convince you?” asked William.

Vincent sat back and shrugged. “Some evidence we don’t have now, I suppose. I know he has the skill to pull it off—I’ve never known such a magnetic leader—but I don’t see why. What would he gain? He’s a confirmed duke with noble blood, even royal blood. Why would he risk what he has to commit a crime against lesser noblemen?”

“For power,” said Rachel as she stared at her wine glass. “Like Oz said.”

Vincent laughed in exasperation. “But he has plenty of power!”

Rachel looked up and met his gaze. “Not enough. Not anywhere near enough.”

The duke’s intense gaze softened into revelation. “You aren’t just another citizen of Stansby, are you? You’re close to him—related, in fact. Aren’t you?”

The last of her reticence melted as she looked away and fidgeted with her wine glass. “I introduced myself to you as Rachel Malen,” she said. “I use my grandmother’s maiden name to protect my identity, but my true family name is Bertrand.”

Vincent gasped. “You’re his daughter.”

Rachel nodded and returned her gaze to her wine.

“You didn’t tell me this so you could defend him, did you?” asked Vincent in a soft voice. “You don’t hide your identity out of pride either. And yet, you appear to desperately want to tell me something.”

Rachel snorted in derision. “Wanting has nothing to do with it. But you’re the first person I’ve met with both the sense to believe it and the authority to do something, so I suppose I should risk it.” She drained her glass, held it for the footman to fill, then swallowed another gulp. “I vowed not to oppose my father in any way, including telling anyone what I know about him. That vow is the only reason I am free right now instead of locked away in his manor. Until now I’ve pretended to myself that I was simply observing, or following Will on an unrelated adventure. By speaking to you, I’m breaking my vow and risking my life. Before I continue, tell me honestly—will you keep this secret, and never reveal that you heard it from me?”

“Of course,” said Vincent. “But would he really harm his own daughter?”

A small smile crossed her lips, but her eyes remained cold. “He would cut off his own arm if it meant sitting on the throne a day earlier.”

William shivered as Rachel’s words hung in the air. Her statement was simple enough, but she said it with such force and clarity that he was left with little doubt of its truth. No wonder she’d been so secretive, so unwilling to let slip even the slightest detail of where she went, or what she did.

Vincent was first to speak, breaking the spell that had fallen on them. “What makes your father think he’s entitled to the throne?”

“You mentioned my father’s royal blood. You left out that his great grandmother Nora was King Stephen’s eldest daughter—his eldest child. If it wasn’t for the council’s preference for sons over daughters, he would have inherited the throne through her. Instead, the throne went to Thomas, and the kingdom slid from greatness into mediocrity, and finally into stagnation. My father claims the kingdom would prosper again under his reign.”

“But it already is prospering again,” said Vincent.

“Only because of a stupid accident,” she shot back. “Duncan has nothing to do with it. We did—Will, Jack, Maya, Charlie, and me. Not that I want him overthrown, but what has Duncan himself done to improve his subjects’ lives?”

“That’s a different discussion,” said Vincent. “But what has your father actually said or done to convince you he’s seeking the throne for himself?”

Rachel snorted again. She lifted her hand and began counting on her fingers. “First, he told me a long time ago that rebellions need money. He hadn’t told me yet about his own plans, but it was part of a history lesson he taught me himself. He seemed anxious for me to learn this particular lesson, because he repeated it several times. Second, he confided in me when I turned sixteen—and he intends for me to succeed him. Lastly, since he allowed me to leave, I’ve traveled all over Esper, searching for and finding more campsites like Kaleb Antony’s. I couldn’t show my face, of course, because too many of his allies know me, like Antony did. But a hunter knows how to move through the forest unseen and spy from a distance. More than once I watched my father ride into those campsites, reveling in their applause. Those campsites are recruiting stations for my father’s rebellion, and I followed some of those recruits back to where they came from: the Matrillia Guard Academy.”

“Queen’s jewels!” Vincent’s face turned white. “Right under our noses…”

“Vincent, can you speak to the king about this?” asked William.

“And say what?” asked Vincent. “I may believe Rachel, but I have no proof. Even if I did, Duncan wouldn’t do anything. It’s near treason to say this, but you must be aware of what his detractors call him.”

“Coward,” said William with a grimace.

“And what would a coward do in such a situation?” asked Vincent. “If anything, he might embrace the man in order to avoid danger and to solve the problem of not having an heir.”

“That can’t happen!” said Rachel with a vehemence William had never before witnessed in her.

“Because he’d be such a terrible king?” asked Vincent. “Or because you don’t want to sit on the throne after him?”

Rachel raised her hands in refusal. “I definitely don’t want to be queen, but the council would never confirm a woman, so I’m in no danger of that. No, I mean my father cannot become king. You’ve seen his pleasant side, the face he shows in public, even when he wants something and can’t take it by right. But once he controls something, he squeezes every drop of usefulness from it, and that includes people. Those guards he sent to steal the tax money—he threw away their careers and would think nothing about throwing away their lives. He would call it a sacrifice for the greater good and never lose a minute of sleep. It would be the same with the kingdom itself. He claims he’d be a good king, that he’d bring prosperity to all of Esper, and maybe he even believes it. And I’m sure he loved my mother when he married her, but once he had her, all he cared about was what she could provide him—a dukedom and an heir.”

A dull ache gripped William’s heart now that he understood the source of Rachel’s anger toward her father. It wasn’t political, or even practical, but purely personal. Who had suffered more? Him, for losing a good father at a young age, or her for having the father she did?

“Regardless, we cannot oppose him directly,” said Vincent. “The king will do nothing, and one duke has no jurisdiction over another. We must apply the same means he does: stealth. And we may have to be just as ruthless. Zander has two means by which he might become king, and I sense he is attempting both. One is to convince the childless Duncan to name him his heir; the second is to revolt as soon as he is strong enough. This stolen gold is no doubt meant for weapons and recruitment, for spies and moles. I’ll do my part. I have the prime minister’s ear, and as duke of what is becoming the wealthiest dukedom on Esper, I am well-situated to fight this secret rebellion.”

“We’ll do what we can as well,” said William.

“We will?” asked Jack.

“Of course we will,” said Rachel with a glare. “We can’t do nothing. That’s what I’ve done for too long. Yes, that means work—as well as inconvenience, and probably even danger. My life is in danger simply by agreeing to this. But Jack—if you want to be with me, you have to be WITH me.”

William did his best to pretend he wasn’t listening. This was an intensely private moment for two people already reluctant to share details about their relationship. For Rachel to speak about it told William how strongly she felt.

Jack placed his hand on hers. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re not here for me!” she said as she pulled her hand away. “You’re here to help Will!”

“Okay, you’re right,” he countered. “I came here to stop Will from doing something stupid. But if you’re serious, and Vincent is serious, count me in. I still don’t know what we need to do though.”

“The first step is getting the tax money back,” said William. “If it gets into Zander’s hands, who knows what he can do with it.”

“Yes, the money is important,” said Vincent. “Not just because it helps Zander, but also because losing it hurts Marshland. Earl Bradford wasn’t wrong about what he said. But more than this, we need to collect evidence of Zander’s treachery. Once we have solid proof, I can bring it to the council and we can present a united front to Duncan.”

“But what proof?” asked Jack.

“We have to capture someone,” said Rachel. “A witness who knows the chain of command.”

“That’s a tall order,” said Jack. “Seven people on seven dragons against dozens who are well-armed and traveling by ship. How do we capture the right person without getting ourselves killed?”

“I keep telling you, we don’t have to do everything,” said William. “All we need to do is find them, slow them down, keep them from escaping to open sea, and let Bentsen catch up and do the rest.”

Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes. “You make it sound so easy, but there’s no possible way it will be that simple.”

“You are all tired,” said Vincent, leaning back and signaling an end to the discussion. “And I don’t blame you. You’ve had several busy days with erratic sleep. Let Ungless handle the choke points. If these rebels can walk across the sea, they deserve to keep the gold. But tomorrow you seven can begin a fresh search on your dragons, and perhaps find these ships—if that’s how these rebels are traveling. Once we know where they are, we can decide what to do next. The footmen will show you to your rooms.”

William allowed fatigue to engulf him, as though Vincent’s words had given him permission. His gaze dropped, and he staggered to his feet. He only hoped he could reach the bed before falling asleep.

Vincent stopped him, placing a hand on William’s elbow. “William, stay a few moments longer, if you please. I’d like to speak with you alone.”