The carriage shook and rattled as the Gale Eagle began its descent towards the camp. To the left and right of Hagen, men and women in heavy plates had smiles on their faces after the successful operation. Even the Ashen were talking and laughing among themselves, a rare sight given the rigid discipline required of them.

Earlier in the day, John discovered a location where Vasilis might be hiding. The duke’s uncle immediately assembled a team to attack.

Hagen still wasn’t sure if he believed John’s claims of learning the old tongue from his mother. It just didn’t make sense given that she came from the deserts where, before the common tongue, they probably had a completely different language to the ones spoken at the Four Kingdoms. But regardless of how John learned the language, it was undeniable that he knew it well. The information was completely accurate.

Vasilis’ forces were caught completely by surprise. Yesterday, even with the element of surprise, they were still pushed back. Today, with roles reversed, they didn’t stand a chance. The old castle fell while Vasilis was captured. The man found himself chained up across from Hagen. The rest of his followers all died in the fighting

“Well, well, well,” Rass spoke to the left of Vasilis. The earl gleamed with excitement as if his cousin Joran hadn’t sacrificed himself yesterday to save his miserable life. “Finally the end of the road. Now we’ll give you the end that you deserve.”

Hagen would never understand someone could feel so much pleasure from tormenting other people.

Vasilis said nothing, glazed eyes and a defeated look on his face. His head hung so low that one might think it would fall off before even arriving at the execution.

The shaking intensified as they approached the camp and the Gale Eagle flapped its wings to slow down.

Hagen looked through the windows at the mass of soldiers forming down below, most of them shielding their faces against the gusts of wind. How many of them, like he himself, had expected this campaign to be a quick and easy affair?

“It’s high time for you to receive your just punishment. For all the chaos you’ve caused in my lands and also for murdering lord Tascer.” Of course, the fool still believed that Vasilis had ordered Edgarth’s death. Still, this served as a reminder that they never actually found out the true murderer’s identity.

“Vasilis,” Hagen spoke and the foreigner showed a reaction for the first time. “Did you actually order Edgarth’s death?”

Rass scoffed at Hagen’s words as if the question itself was ludicrous.

Vasilis lifted his head to look at Hagen, but soon lowered it again. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing does anymore.”

Like the sick man that he was, Rass didn’t even try to conceal the mirth on his face at Vasilis’s words.

“Maybe,” Hagen said, trying his best to keep focused, “but I would like to hear it anyway. The dagger used to kill Edgarth belonged to Seimon, correct?”

“It belonged to me, you mean,” Rass interrupted. “Don't forget, this rat and his accomplices stole it from me.”

Vasilis nodded slowly. “Yes, Seimon kept on him at all times.” He tilted his head to the side, glanced at his missing arm, and sighed. “Tell me, do you believe the stories about the Grenfell Massacre?”

Hagen arched his eyebrows in surprise at the question. Years ago, Grenfell was where Jonathan and Dene sought temporary refuge after their relationship became known. The old earl Warrin took them in only to sell them out. Jonathan’s father sent in a squad of Paladins and Warlocks to capture his son and kill Dene. The southerner woman killed all of them instead.

At least that’s what the Olsens claimed.

Hagen never believed it. The Yao tribe, from where Dene hailed, maintained sole ownership of La Louisiane for centuries before it’s discovery. As such, they were bound to know secret spells and techniques that seemed completely alien when compared to the ones known at the Four Kingdoms. But from there to claim that a single Archmage would be able to wipe out to the last a squad of Paladins and Warlocks was far-fetched, to say the least.

And so he answered, “No,” with a shake of his head.

“I didn’t either…” Vasilis sighed before continuing. “Close to five years ago, Seimon was supposed to be hiding near Greenflower when Devran discovered the whole outpost empty. After searching, he discovered that Seimon had been killed along with everyone else in the outpost. Everything of value had been looted. He investigated it and singled out the village’s huntswoman as the most likely suspect. If the woman could wipe out the whole outpost, though, then she was too dangerous for Devran to deal with by himself, and so he came to me.”

Vasilis tried raising his hand towards where his right arm used to be. The manacles around his wrist connected by a chain to his ankle prevented him. “He pointed me to a house outside of the village where she lived with her son, a half-bred boy. I tried to make her follow me, she refused, we fought. She came out on top, but one of my men managed to capture her child. Then… then she cast a spell, one single spell, and crushed the man’s head against the floor.

“It was instantaneous, and also too powerful to be an Archmage-level spell. I tried to stop her, and she ripped off my arm and flung me aside as if I were a ragdoll. That’s when I blacked out. When I came to, my son had found and carried me to the first healer he could found. Everyone else who followed me had been killed.”

Rass couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “At least you have some imagination, I’ll give you that. When do the elves and dwarves appear?”

Vasilis simply sighed before letting his head down again. By now, the gale eagle was close to landing.

Contrary to Rass’s laughter, Hagen’s reaction was much more contained. Less than five years ago. That was around the time when Vasilis disappeared. Also around the same time when John arrived at his castle. “And so the dagger fell in the hands of this huntswoman?”

“Yes,” Vasilis answered without raising his head. “After that, the woman and her son seemingly disappeared off the face of the world. I never heard of them again, never even found out who she really was. As far as I know, she might as well have been the southerner who tried to elope with the Olsen’s heir, and the half-bred kid their son.”

The look of surprise in Hagen’s face coincided with a brief drop as the gale eagle let go of the carriage. In an orderly manner, the Ashen stood up and filed out through the exit, two of them taking hold of Vasilis and dragging him along.

Already Hagen could hear the cacophony of sounds from the mass of soldiers, mostly either celebrations or insults targeted at Vasilis.

“Finally,” Rass said, an evil grin on his face as he followed after them.

Hagen walked out last, leaving the carriage just in time to see Lanard jumping off the gale eagle’s back with ease.

“To the hill,” the Olsandre commanded the Ashen, who promptly followed his instructions, taking Vasilis with them.

“Won’t you try to question him first?” Athalia asked, walking through the mass of people to approach the two. With Lanard, Hagen, and Rass all leaving at the same time, she had to remain at the camp as the one in charge during their absence. “I thought you’d try to find out what he knows about what the Olsens might be planning.”

As much as he hated the idea of prolonging Vasilis’ suffering, Hagen had to agree with her.

Lanard shook his head. “Whatever those winged snakes might be planning, the foreigner was nothing but a pawn in all of this. If, for whatever reason, he knows something, it might very well be false information fed to him. Better instead to finish what we came here to do.”

By the foot of the hill at the center of the camp, the geomancers had quickly erected a platform for everyone to watch. Hunched down due to the short-chain connecting his wrist to his ankle, Vasilis stood flanked by two Ashen. A third one held a large two-handed sword in her hands, it’s blade twice the width of a normal weapon. An executioner’s sword.

With a single jump, Lanard landed atop the platform. Not wasting any time, he began the proceedings. He raised an arm and, like a wave, the mass of talking people stopped. “Remove his chains,” he ordered. “Vasilis Marar, you stand accused of murdering lord Edgarth Tascer, and of raising arms against His Grace,” Lanard exclaimed, loud enough to be heard by everyone. “How do you plead?”

“Guilty,” Vasilis declared resignedly, not caring anymore. “Just get on with it.”

Seeing him like that was too much for Hagen. He immediately turned around and walked away towards his tent.

“Won’t you stay to watch?” Athalia asked, walking after him.

Hagen answered with a shake of his head. Everyone already knew how this would pan out. Besides, what Vasilis said about this supposed huntswoman stuck in Hagen’s head. John arrived at the castle around the same period of time when Vasilis lost his arm.

He claimed that his mother had died but never said how it happened, neither where he came from. At the time, Hagen dismissed it as John was just a boy, certainly still in shock due to the loss of his mother. Now he wasn’t so sure.

If Vasilis’s claims were truthful, and if the huntswoman was indeed John’s mother, then John was the last person who had the sapphire honour dagger in hands. If so, then Hagen needed to find out where John was the night of Edgarth’s murder.

From the platform came a far away whoosh followed by a muffled thud. The deafening cheers from the crowd echoed inside Hagen.