Taylon, the Supplanter, looked in the mirror as he adjusted his scarf one more time. If he arranged it correctly, it did an excellent job hiding his skinny neck and not revealing how narrow his shoulders were. He wanted to appear as physically imposing as he could for his guests.

When he had hired the mercenaries, he had done so through two messengers, one sent to Brighton, the other south to a coastal city in Talla. He hadn’t seen the assassins or islanders and didn’t know how big they would be. He had assumed assassins were slender fighters, slipping into homes through the window and not making a sound as they crept in for the kill. But the man he had seen show up with one of his Elementals was the largest northerner he had ever seen. Also, Taylon had dealt with some of the island merchants before, and they had been about his size, so he hadn’t expected the male warrior to be much bigger than a Tallashite soldier.

At least the woman was small, but she looked as fierce as any of his physicals, and he didn’t want to have to intimidate her either. Of course, the goal was not to have to scare them at all. They would get the weapons and turn them over to him. That was what they were paid to do, but when they had arrived with only three and then refused to turn them over, Taylon had gotten nervous. What if they still resisted after the fourth was taken? How could he force them? Some of his women were strong fighters, but would they stand up to those trained warriors?

He adjusted his belt now and the sword that hung there. He had never used the weapon in his life, but it looked deadly, and he thought it helped him present an aura of strength. For the next few minutes, he practiced making faces in the mirror, trying to figure out how to set his jaw so his face didn’t look so gaunt.

“Very impressive.”

Taylon had enough composer not to flinch too much at the prince’s voice, as if he had always known he was there. “Will you be joining us for dinner?” the Supplanter asked, lifting his hand to rub his face as if he had only been examining his shaving job.

“Thank you, but no. I think it best if I am not seen here yet. Your women know not to mention me, correct?”

Taylon didn’t bother replying out loud.

“This needs to remain your expedition for now. The fewer people who know that the Talla throne is after the Elementals, the better for everyone. In fact, I think I will be leaving. I have pressing matters down south.”

Taylon tried to seem disinterested, though part of him wished the prince would hang around. As much as the heir to the throne insulted him, he was the one with the master plan. Most of the decisions Taylon made were based on the prince’s advice or information. “Very well. Suit yourself. When you return, I will have all four Elementals, and then you shall see what true power is.”

Prince Dantell watched as the religious leader swung his cloak dramatically around his shoulder and tried to clasp it all in one motion, but he missed, and the cape flew out of his hands, sending him scrambling after it.

“Indeed,” the prince remarked and then left.

Ethan looked around the dinner party and didn’t know if he was upset that Natasha wasn’t there. He knew the woman was wrong for him. Or maybe he was just not ready to be around someone of her power. The idea that he might have to live with the Elemental inside him for the rest of his life was slowly dawning on him, and he would have to figure out how to control it. If that were the case, more exposure to the volatile woman was probably what he needed.

Sera sat beside him, wearing a beautiful dress and jacket combination that he had been too disorientated to notice earlier after his fiery affair had ended. It was much different than her physic or priestly clothes, and she looked radiant. Yori had chosen to sit across from them, probably to make it easier for him to stare at the young woman.

Other than Natasha, the chosen supplicants were there, and none of them stirred any interest in Ethan whatsoever. Not that they weren’t attractive, but with his heart arguing over Sera and Natasha, the other three women couldn’t compete. Brittany was a massive woman, not fat, but incredibly muscular. Eastasia was rail thin and hadn’t stopped talking since they sat down. Sera bit her tongue as the woman went on about legends and debated the meaning of ancient texts and how the Elementals’ arrival fulfilled every prophecy ever written. The young woman was supposed to be playing the part of an island warrior, and shouldn’t know much about religious matters, so she didn’t debate the intelligent woman, though she wanted to fiercely.

Quinsha kept to herself mostly. Ethan thought she looked uncomfortable and very pregnant. Ethan remembered how other women in his village had been when they had neared their delivery date and how not only their husbands bent over backward to help them, but others in the town did too. The Supplanter, assuming he was the father, didn’t pay the woman any mind, and Ethan felt sorry for her.

Delvers brought out the food, and Ethan frowned at that. This type of servitude was close to slavery. He could tell they weren’t happy at the arrangement, and the former apprentice had to catch himself from getting up and helping them. He wanted to, but an assassin wouldn’t care about the mistreatment of a lower race. Delvers weren’t meant to be servers or waiters. If they weren’t working with stone, they should be left to their own devices, not thrust into menial labor that didn’t suit them.

Thus, with great satisfaction, Ethan watched as the whole dinner presentation blew up when two large men burst into the room. The young man didn’t recognize either of them, but from the few personal items Ethan had seen around Sir Gerhold’s home, he was willing to bet the older man was a paladin.

Sir Jenkins and Quarton hadn’t been greeted at the entrance to the temple. They had arrived after sundown, and even if a lookout had been keeping watch, they wouldn’t have been seen in the darkness. It was a cloudless night, and as ill-advised as it was to travel the mountain landscape in the dark, there had been enough light for the two men to risk it. A guard had been waiting for them at the door, but Quarton had overpowered her quite easily, and they had stormed into the entry hall and followed the sound of clinking plates and silverware to the dining room, just off the main chamber.

The Supplanter rose immediately. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?”

Quite to Jenkins’ surprise, his enforcer took a knee and bowed before the religious leader. “I’ve brought you the head of the Elemental Order, my master.”

Taylon didn’t know Quarton, but his informant in Brighton had told him that one of the paladin’s enforcers had pledged allegiance to his temple. His attitude softened. “Have you now? And do you know the location of the fourth Elemental?”

“What are you doing?” Jenkins asked, looking down at Quarton, quite beside himself. He had drawn his sword as soon as they had entered the temple, assuming they would face some resistance. He didn’t expect the supplicants to hand over the weapons. But Quarton had barged in like he knew what he was doing, so the older paladin had just followed. “What do you mean, ‘Master?’”

Quarton said nothing but stayed on his knee, not looking up. “What did you expect?” Taylon said, walking away from the head of the table and toward the befuddled paladin. “You are employing a fallen knight. What do you think he fell to?”

Jenkins was only now figuring out what was happening and turned back to Quarton. “You can’t possibly believe this man will save humanity? You rejected the Divine Savior for him?”

Quarton now did look up. “The Savior rejected you,” he said evenly. “If the Elementals were meant for him, the Supplanter would have never learned of their location. You would not have lost them. And I would not be able to do this.” He rose as he said the last words, drawing his sword in the same motion.

Jenkins was an accomplished swordsman with decades of experience, and as much as those decades had done to perfect his skill, they had also slowed his blade and weakened his arms. He was no match for the enforcer, a man 20 years his junior and outweighing him by dozens of pounds.

Ethan rose from his seat, his hand hovering over his weapon. He watched as the two men fought for a few seconds, Jenkins desperately batting aside Quarton’s heavy blows as the older man backed up against the wall. The apprentice wanted to jump in, his heart urging him to defend the paladin. His mind knew that this man would likely kill him, given a chance, to secure the Elemental back in the sword, but he didn’t care. The man reminded him too much of Sir Gerhold.

The older knight moved like the master swordsman that had trained Ethan. Perhaps a little slower, but they had been trained in the same techniques. And as Ethan watched the routines that had defeated him repeatedly executed against the hulking enforcer, he also watched as the bigger man deflected these strikes almost causally, backing the paladin against the wall before smashing the hilt of his sword into the older man’s forehead.

If Ethan had no chance against Sir Gerhold, he wouldn’t last five seconds against this enforcer. As the older man fell, his eyes seconds from closing, he caught Ethan’s concerned gaze. The younger man thought recognition flashed through him, but the paladin was lost to unconsciousness.

Taylon was standing over the defeated knight quickly after the fight. “This man told you where the last Elemental is?”

Quarton shook his head but answered aloud since his master wasn’t looking at him. “He did not trust the location to anyone. But I believe he does know it.”

The Supplanter smiled. “We can get it out of him. I have women who specialize in body, mind, and heart manipulation. He will be begging to tell us everything he knows before dawn.” Taylon turned to Brittany and told her to gather a few select women.

Ethan growled in his seat, his heart turning black at the idea that they would torture this man for information. Sera place a calming hand on his arm. “Settle,” she said. “An assassin wouldn’t care.”

“But I am not an assassin,” he said under his breath.

“But you need to be.”

“And if they kill him?” his eyes pierced her.

“Then he dies protecting what he values most,” Sera replied evenly. “Use your head.”

Ethan wanted to lash out at her. He was sick of being told he wasn’t smart enough to control his emotions, but, as usual, Sera’s voice had a calming influence over him. What was he going to do, throw himself at the enforcer’s blade? He wouldn’t last as long as the paladin had. Taking a few deep breaths, he swallowed his anger and chased it with some wine.

The Supplanter was turning back to the guests. “I hate to be a bad host, but I must oversee this new development. Please, stay and eat. You will be off in the morning, and you will know exactly where to go with any luck.”

Two of the physical women had arrived, and together they managed to heave Jenkin’s limp body out of the room with the Supplanter skipping behind.

“He won’t talk.”

Sera and Ethan looked surprised at this comment. It was Yori.

“If he is anything like the man guarding the spear, he won’t say anything. The Supplanter is just wasting his time.”

“Perhaps you would like a few of the supplicants prying into your mind tonight to see how easy it is to make you crack,” Sera said, thinking the man was underestimating the power of these women.

Yori put on a mischievous grin. “Promise?”

Sera rolled her eyes at the incorrigible warrior and returned to her meal. It might be the last good food they would get for a while.

Gerhold Wentry leaned back against the tree, sitting in front of the fire and soaking in the warmth. They were a few hours north of Toraford, making great time on the trip to Brighton. The six-day journey looked like it would only take five as the spring rains had stayed away and the roads were hardpacked from the sun. They had seen the remains of a storm coming from the west the previous day, but they had just gotten ahead of it, letting it pass over the road behind them.

The wound in Gerhold’s side was almost healed now. The combination of prayer from Sera and the elixirs from her mentor had done most of the job, and taking it easy in the back of a wagon these past three days had done the rest. Now, at the end of this third day, with a meal of stew comfortably digesting in his stomach, he looked up at the stars and tried to think about what to expect once he got to the capital city of the north.

Brighton was the headquarters of his Order, and he hadn’t expected ever to go there again. His job to guard the Elemental was meant to be a permanent post, and he had fully expected to live out the rest of his days in peace. Should he become too ill or infirmed to carry on, he was to have sent a note south, and a replacement would have come to take the responsibility, but keeping the sword wasn’t much of a burden. No one knew it was with him, and it always stayed locked in a chest.

If there was a burden, it was being isolated from those he cared about. That brought his thoughts to Celaina. Gerhold knew the names of the other knights who had been assigned to the Elementals and was happy to hear that the assassin sent after the mind dagger had not been successful. Celaina had been assigned to guard that, and despite their last meeting, he would have been heartbroken to hear that she had failed in her duty, or worse, been killed. The fight that had marred their parting had been over something foolish; Gerhold didn’t even remember it now. Something about a horse, he thought. But it hadn’t really been about a horse. That was just the last straw. Before that, it had been about money, and before that, it had been about armor, and before that, it had been about family. It was always something with Celaina.

Gerhold took a deep draw from his water canteen and looked around the fire at the other people relaxing after the meal and before they would all turn in for the night. Most of the caravan were merchants, but a few families were with them as well. There was safety in numbers, and it wasn’t that this area of the north was that dangerous, but there was no reason to take risks.

Gerhold caught one of the young men staring at him, and he returned the look. The boy reminded him of Ethan. He was sixteen and just starting his apprenticeship with the merchant bringing his wares south. He wasn’t nearly the same size as Ethan, but he had the same innocent sense of adventure and had been drawn to the paladin from the start of their trip.

The boy, Stojen, saw that he was found out but didn’t shyly look away. “What were you thinking about, Sir?” he asked boldly.

Gerhold hadn’t yet figured if the boy had labeled him as a knight or if, as an apprentice, he was just used to calling everyone sir. “Just thinking of someone I will see in Brighton that I haven’t seen in a long time.”

Stojen chuckled. “It must be a woman.”

Gerhold looked at him curiously. “And why would you say that?”

The boy shrugged. “You had a far-off look in your eye. It is the same look my older brother always got when he would think of his girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Now Gerhold chuckled. “Boy, do you know how old I am? Men like me don’t have girlfriends.”

Stojen conceded the fact. “Okay, Sir, then who is she? A sister? A daughter?”

Gerhold sighed as he felt trapped by the boy. “A wife,” the knight admitted.

Stojen had no response.