The Adjunct Lin Harsel was not a happy man, for reasons in addition to the ones others might find immediately apparent. True, the girl, whoever she was, had escaped, with the help of a mystery warrior, and the manner in which she had escaped had made many citizens of Gansu trust their occupiers a measure less, but there was more to know. More that was classified, to a level that only Lin himself knew, not even Tarn.

Tarn walked into Lin’s tent at that very moment.

“Is there another update you can give me?” Lin asked his second.

“Our soldiers are succeeding in returning all the street-goers to their homes, albeit in some cases forcibly.”

“And as for casualties?”

Tarn’s typically easygoing brow creased. It was one of those rare times Lin actually found him to look like a warrior. “One dead, his throat cut open in the stable. Rel was a good man.”

“A good man, who got in over his head,” said Lin. “Continue.”

“Another was trampled by the warrior’s horse, and he might not make it past the night,” said Tarn.

“Who is he?” asked Lin.

“Brent.”

“Damn.” Lin knew Brent, and knew him well. Fate did not smile on either of them right now.

“Another is in serious condition, from both wounds and a nasty fall,” said Tarn. “Four more have minor injuries, and the last wounded is-”

“How exactly did one of my soldiers suffer ‘a nasty fall’?” asked Lin, quoting.

“The warrior apparently chopped a hole through the floor with an axe, and one of our soldiers was unfortunate enough to fall through it.”

At that moment, Rathos walked in. Rathos, who Lin had always considered his most experienced man in the field, and who had been a soldier for more than a dozen years. His head looked horribly bruised, and he looked both pale and black at the same time. Rathos’ breathing was labored, and it looked like he would fall over at any moment.

“God-Kings man, take a seat,” said Lin, and Tarn, ever the helper, found a chair nestled in the corner of the tent, and pulled it to Rathos.

But Rathos shook his head. “I would never when reporting to my betters,” he growled. “What do you take me for, a fool?”

“Rathos wanted to speak with you,” Tarn said quietly. “I couldn’t keep him away.”

“We’re all warrior caste here,” said Lin. “You can sit.” When Rathos didn’t, Lin shouted, “Gods damn it man, I’m ordering you to sit!”

Finally, Rathos took the chair. “I think you need to hear some things about the warrior,” he said. “The one who helped the girl escape. Inside his and the girl’s inn room, we underwent single combat. And I lost.”

“Well, obviously,” said Lin. “He escaped, didn’t he? You’re not what you used to be, Rathos. You’re in your thirties now.”

“He didn’t beat me because he was strong, or he was fast,” said Rathos. “He beat me because he knew a counter for every technique I could use. And he didn’t just beat me. He dispatched me like I had no more skill than a novice. That man is more dangerous than you think, Adjunct. Thank you for your time.” And he got up and walked out.

Tarn stepped forward again. “We found him unconscious, you know,” he said. “Rathos didn’t stay that way for long.”

Lin frowned. “Go make sure Rathos finds a bed, instead of going to help the other soldiers, as I know he’ll do,” said Lin. When Tarn hesitated for a moment, Lin shouted, “Go!”

Tarn went.

Lin took out a piece of parchment from his desk, and readied a quill. He still had one more thing to get done this night.

To Emperor Ehajdon I, May Your Dynasty be Eternal,

I am worried about your orders, grace. My soldiers had an encounter with one we had good reason to expect was the Arathou Princess, and I ordered her killed, as you asked me to do on the chance that my men found her.

However, she escaped. Do I send men to pursue?

Your loyal servant, Adjunct Lin Harsel

Lin took a bottle of runewine from the corner of his desk, pulled out the stopper, and then poured some of the liquid out onto the paper. Slowly, the words faded, until the parchment was blank again. Now, Lin’s letter could only be read if one had the proper antidote.

Lin put the stopper back on the bottle, and placed it back on the corner of his desk. He gently folded the letter, and stamped it with his seal. Deed done, he stared at the letter for a moment.

There was hypocrisy in his orders. How could Lin be told to give a speech proclaiming that the Minsu were only there because the Tachen could no longer be, and also be told to quietly kill any heirs to the Arathou Dynasty, if any came across his way? It was almost, though not quite, what Lin considered madness.

And now, he had been forced to carry out those orders, to an end that helped no one. Lin knew he had much to think about.

“Messenger!” he shouted.