The man was tall, with a handsome face. Brown hair swept elegantly back past his shoulders, seemingly unbothered by a long ride through the wilderness.

  Blood trickled from his forehead.

  Laryn examined the man as Hela addressed his wounds.

  He wore the brown uniform of the men of Fort Envin, marked with a golden sigil of a head of grain and a raven.

  Despite his bonds, the man sat erect, face betraying no sign that he’d been captured and beaten by Gall, snooping around the north bridge of Vallor.

  His dark eyes danced around the scene, keenly taking in everything.

  It hadn’t taken long for this Fort Envin scout to find Vallor.

  “I’m hungry,” the man said. “Are you going to starve me to death?”

  Laryn ignored his question. They’d only caught the man a short time ago. They weren’t starving him.

  “Are you actually the [Ruler]?” the scout asked. “Just let me deliver my message and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Devlin,” the scout replied.

  “You came alone?”

  “Yes.”

  Laryn didn’t believe him. Whoever he’d been with must have gone running back to Fort Envin.

  “What is that sigil you wear?”

  For the first time, the man seemed taken aback. “It is the crest of Ondwin,” he said.

  Laryn wracked his brains. He may have heard of a kingdom called Ondwin before, somewhere on Cataria.

  “Never heard of it,” Laryn said.

  Devlin’s smug look drooped slightly.

  “I’m here as an official representative of Prince Harrat,” he said. “This territory is soon going to fall under his control. He kindly offers you a chance to become his subjects.”

  Laryn laughed.

  “What kind of a piss-poor offer is that,” Hela snapped. “Wind brained fool.”

  “Hela, that’s enough,” Laryn said sharply. “Leave us.”

  Hela packed up her things and left, leaving Laryn and Gall with the scout.

  They stood on the north shore of the Ebil, not far from the bridge. Nothing of the island could be seen from here, which pleased Laryn. He didn’t want to show the scout more of the kingdom than necessary.

  “Glad to see that you’re more reasonable than her,” Devlin said, watching Hela leave.

  “What are you doing out here,” Laryn asked. “Why is a prince of Ondwin setting up a kingdom in the wildlands?”

  “He’s proving himself,” Devlin said.

  “Proving himself how?” Laryn asked.

  “It’s a long tradition among our princes,” Devlin said. “When an heir to the throne dies, younger sons must prove themselves before ascending to the status of heir. They travel to the unclaimed lands, grow a small kingdom, harvest resources, and return victorious.”

  “How long will your prince stay here then?” Laryn asked.

  “As long as it takes for him to win over the support of the circle of elders,” Devlin said. “Perhaps a few months. Perhaps a few years. But all that is beside the point. His kingdom will soon grow to encompass all this land. He’ll march his armies to your core and kill you if you resist. Instead, you should consider our offer.”

  Laryn inspected the man for signs of dishonesty. The story he told did not seem to line up with what Krupp had said, though the goblin wasn’t the most reliable of witnesses.

  “What exactly is your offer?”

  “You and your people will come to Fort Envin and swear fealty to the Prince, joining his kingdom. We will send coresmiths to dismantle your core. You won’t have to live out here in the dirt any more. We have luxuries. Like baths. And soap.” Devlin wrinkled his nose as he said this.

  “And when your Prince completes his mission?”

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  “Then you return to Ondwin as his subjects still,” Devlin said. “We are a fair, egalitarian society. If you are useful and skilled, you’ll climb high in our ranks.”

  “Thank you for the offer,” Laryn said. “We don’t accept.”

  “Alas,” Devlin sighed. “I am your one chance to avoid death and torture. Please reconsider.”

  “What kind of resources are you looking for?” Laryn asked, wondering if he could find any clues to the mysterious ‘thing’ Krupp insisted the Ondwins searched for.

  “Oh, anything,” Devlin said. “Your kingdom core will be a nice addition. Lumber is valuable. Perhaps some ores.”

  “I have a counter offer for you,” Laryn said, growing annoyed with the man’s careful language. “Tell me what Harrat is really doing out here in the wildlands and I won’t chop your head off and dump your body into the river.”

  Again the man’s mask slipped slightly. He was afraid for his life.

  “I’m sorry,” Devlin said. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Laryn dusted off his hands and turned to Gall. “This man is not very helpful to us,” he said. “Strange that a goblin would be more forthcoming. Say, maybe we should toss them in together?”

  Gall grinned. “I like your thinking. This one’s a little too…” He imitated Krupp. “Stinkin’ symet man, ugly ugly. Break’em bones an’ face!”

  “Let’s introduce them. But let’s not let Krupp get to work too quickly.”

  Devlin paled. “A goblin?” he asked. “What is this about a goblin?”

  Gall blindfolded Devlin and they escorted him over the bridge and onto the central island. They brought him over to Krupp’s cage.

  Krupp had been enough of a nuisance, catcalling the women and insulting the men non stop, that they’d moved him further along the shore, to a place nestled between some rocks and trees.

  Devlin wouldn’t be able to see much from here.

  As they approached, Krupp perked up.

  “Gall. Gall!” he exclaimed. “Gall bring Krupp food?”

  “Maybe,” Gall said, pushing Devlin to his knees.

  Krupp sniffed. “Another ugly symet man,” the goblin spat, disappointed. “Bring Krupp fems.”

  Laryn removed Devlin’s blind fold. “This will be your new roommate, Krupp,” he said. “He’s pretty symet, I know, but try not to break him up too much. Maybe just a few fingers.”

  “Blech. Krupp no want stinkin’ man. Bring fems.”

  “Sorry Krupp,” Laryn said. “But it’s what we have to do. This is the only cage we have!”

  “Please don’t put me in there,” Devlin gasped.

  “Tell me what you’re searching for out here,” Laryn said.

  “Resources!” Devlin protested. “I told you that!”

  “I don’t believe you,” Laryn said.

  Gall started to open the cage. Krupp tensed, eagerly, looking like he was going to make a break for it.

  Gall held his spear in one hand, pointed at the goblin. “Don’t make me skewer your pretty face, Krupp.”

  Krupp wilted. “Maybe Krupp want nice ugly face like Gall,” he said. But he didn’t make a break for it when Gall pulled one side of the cage down.

  “Now be nice to Devlin,” Gall said. “Don’t hurt him too bad.”

  “Animals,” Devlin hissed, sweat beading on his forehead. “I can’t—fine! I don’t know much. Just that Harrat ordered all of us to look for a massive bald man. Possibly traveling with a blonde woman. He stole a large chest from the palace, containing valuable heirlooms!”

  Gall stopped opening the cage. A look of recognition flashed across his face.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Laryn asked. “Gall, close the cage. No need to put him in the same space as Krupp. As long as he’s willing to be cooperative, I don’t see any reason not to make him his own cage.”

  Devlin breathed a sigh of relief, and wiped his face on his shoulder.

  “Sorry Krupp,” Gall said. “I guess you’re not getting a stinkin’ roommate.”

  Krupp groaned.

  “Look, if you’re just looking for a thief, why establish a kingdom and spread influence? Why capture local populations and force them to work for you? You’re not telling me the whole story.”

  “I don’t know the whole story,” Devlin said. “Everything I’ve told you is the truth. It’s all that I know. Harrat is proving himself worthy of the crown by collecting resources. He also told us to search for that man.”

  Laryn scratched his head. He believed Devlin, though he suspected the man still had more useful information to share.

  Laryn caught sight of Rimba lingering nearby, just out of sight of Krupp’s cage. The women of the kingdom tended to avoid entering Krupp’s view. If possible, they also avoided getting close enough for his keen sense of smell to detect them. The mere sight of a woman could draw some creative epithets from the creature.

  She waved to Laryn, and he walked over to her. As he approached, he saw that Kenna stood with the girl.

  “What is it, Rimba?”

  “Who is that man?” Kenna asked, cutting in.

  “He’s an enemy scout,” Laryn said, recalling something that Kenna had mentioned to him before. “Rimba, can you go fetch Ollen, Mat, and a few others? Gall needs help building another cage.”

  Rimba nodded and ran off. Laryn turned to Kenna, who edged closer, trying to catch a glimpse. Kenna’s secret attempts to deactivate their kingdom cores had not produced anything yet.

  “What are you doing with him?” Kenna asked.

  “What’s it to you?”

  “So we’re discovered?” Kenna said. “What will we do about it?”

  “That depends,” Laryn said. “When we talked the other day, you told me that you came to the wildlands with a friend. Bram, I think his name was.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Kenna snapped.

  “Describe him for me,” Laryn said.

  “Why should I do that?”

  “And when you describe him, remember that I’m going to ask other Jardensvalers the same question.”

  “So that scout told you something,” Kenna said. “And you think he’s talking about Bram.”

  “Convince me he’s not,” Laryn said.

  “He probably is.”

  “Why? Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

  “Why should I have? It wasn’t likely to ever come up.”

  “What did Bram do? Does it have anything to do with you being a coresmith? I thought you were joking when you said you had more secrets!”

  Kenna sighed deeply. She scratched her arm, and glanced around.

  “Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll tell you. But swear to me that this will all stay secret.”

  “If possible, I’ll keep it a secret,” Laryn said. “I’m tired of this. You’d better tell me everything.”

  Kenna grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the foliage that crowded the center of the island, leading him in until they were totally obscured by the greenery.

  “Answer my question first,” Kenna said. “Is that man Ondwinian? Was he wearing a golden emblem featuring a head of wheat and a raven?”

  Laryn nodded. “He was.”

  “And did he say who the ruler of Fort Envin is?”

  “He called him Prince Harrat.”

  Kenna punched her palm angrily. “The curr. I should have known the man would do something like this. He never lets anything go. Not when he feels like he’s been slighted.”

  Laryn folded his arms.

  “Listen,” he said. “You’re a subject of Vallor, not of Harrat. You’re under my protection. Tell me everything, so we can make the best move.”

  “You won’t be able to protect me from Harrat,” Kenna said, pacing aggressively to and fro.

  Laryn cocked an eyebrow.

  “He’s my husband.”