“Please tell me the people of Bryniard have started to cooperate.”
“Unfortunately not, sir. Our correspondents haven’t reported any progress in the interrogation since we left. Apparently, since…” Keilan hesitated, wanting to use the word “murder,” but he knew he could never be too cautious with the man walking beside him. “Since the passing of Dane Weller, the tavern owner, the people have become quite uncooperative. Many have chosendeath rather than provide any information about the missing Brynardian women.”
“Interesting. I would not have expected those peasants to have any sense of loyalty whatsoever. Apparently, I have misjudged the number of soldiers I should have dedicated to this effort.”
“We haven’t seen significant improvements from Bryniard, sir. But I have received intel from our spies in Nyfrel that could be valuable to our cause.”
“Go on.” The general spoke with indifference as they reached the campsite.
He wrenched open the large cabin doors and stormed inside. His presence filled the room, and the atmosphere seemed to darken with his arrival, the space now heavy with the authoritarian energy exuding from him.
“Our report says our fugitives were seen departing the city of Nyfrel about fifteen days ago.”
“From your smile earlier, I had expected bigger news, Keilan.”
“That’s not all, sir. They weren’t alone in their exit from the city this time.”
This was the first time Ranier had the decency to look into his assistant’s eyes as he spoke, his eyebrows lifting in sudden interest.
“A woman, supposedly the town’s healer, was seen leaving Nyfrel with the criminals. The townspeople believe she’s been taken hostage.”
“What else do we have on this healer?”
“She was assigned duty in Nyfrel due to an unpaid debt inherited from her father. Witnesses confirm she had been tending to one of the Brynardian women due to a serious injury. Most believe she wouldn’t have willingly aided the criminals unless her life was threatened. After all, by leaving her post, shewould be putting a target on her own back, becoming a traitor of Heldraine herself.”
“Have you attempted contact with her assigned tax-collection Royal Guard?”
“Yes, sir. Unfortunately, he has been confirmed dead after an anonymous tip about his passing was received in Golheim. His body was found buried with his sword in the woods a couple of days east of Nyfrel.”
“What a coincidence,” Ranier said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He would bet all his riches that the Royal Guard had met the same fate as the twelve men slaughtered in Porjea.
He picked up the map of Heldraine, which lay rolled on the desk in the center of his cabin, and spread it open. He located Nyfrel, the only possible eastern route leading directly to the capital. Ranier had never thought they would be bold enough to venture into the most secure and guarded place in Heldraine. Once again, he had underestimated their ability to remain hidden right under his nose.
“They are heading to Golheim.”
“Yes, according to our predictions, they have already reached the capital by now, sir.”
Ranier’s rough fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the wooden desk as he pondered his next moves. Whatever actions they decided on from this moment forward could determine the outcome of the entire mission. He glanced at Keilan, who stood hopeful for instructions, and decided it was time to test the boy who was meant to become his successor.
“If you were the general of the Iron Claws, Keilan, what would you do with that information?”
The boy shifted his weight on his toes, taken aback by the question. He stuttered for a moment. “I would send word of their whereabouts to our base in Golheim and request a house-to-house search for our criminals or any aid they might havereceived. I would also call for a thorough investigation into the healer traveling with them, interrogating her family and closest friends to assess her potential for betrayal. The same should be done for the rogue Royal Guard if we haven’t already.”
The look of surprise on the general’s face gave the boy the confidence to press on, and Keilan squared his shoulders with newfound assurance.
“Additionally, I would increase their bounties. The people of Golheim are more inclined to cooperate when they stand to gain something substantial, whether it’s enough to feed their children for a month or, for the wealthier ones, a chance to expand their wardrobes. Lastly, I would head there myself. We’ve previously sent reinforcements to Bryniard, leaving our posts in the capital understaffed with those who truly understand our duty to the Crown. Our presence would be crucial, especially since with our motorized cart, we could reach the capital twice as fast as any of our battalion’s sub-sections, hopefully before our targets leave the city.”
Ranier’s blue eyes observed the man across from him. The puffed chest and firm posture made Keilan appear a little less diminutive, even with the shattered glasses perched on his nose. Despite himself, a malicious smile slowly spread across the general’s lips. Perhaps there was something to work with after all—a young man who could be shaped into the best, molded in Ranier’s own image of ruthlessness.
“You have your orders then, soldier,” Ranier commanded before the boy rushed outside, yelling orders to put their plan into practice.
Chapter 27
A Message from My Dreams
100 DAYS UNTIL DHALIA’S DEATH DATE.
Pink, blue, and purple melded in the sky, like a work of art; it was the kind of shade that could only be found in a watercolor palette. There was no sun or moon in sight, but the lingering rays of light somehow enhanced the place’s beauty. Beneath Alissa’s feet, the ground lay blanketed in pure white, although there was no sign of snow. This was something completely different, as if the earth’s bright green had been bleached, leaving behind a breathtaking view. Alissa had never seen a place like this, a place she knew didn’t belong with the usual blue skies and green grass of Heldraine.