“Don’t you see?” Eira struggled with her frustration. “If we find this master, we’ll have the answers we’ve always sought. Our prisoner claims he serves a creature that opens the door to the other side. If we gain such secrets, how can the abbot oppose us? How could anyone oppose us? To manipulate our work would be to circumvent the very purpose of Conatus!”
Thomas, Conatus’s quartermaster, blew out a weary sigh. “Dear Eira, what you’re suggesting is a terrible gamble. You would make our work known to the public, which would invite chaos. The abbot already threatens to undermine our purpose. I find it highly unlikely that any new wisdom or secrets we might find would change the disposition of such a man.”
“But—” Eira cast a pleading glance at Cian.
Cian spread helpless hands on the table. “I fear Thomas is right. The abbot has shown himself to be single-minded in all things.”
“There’s another concern as well.” Lukasz rose, folding his arms across his chest. “If indeed this creature the prisoner calls his master exists, we know nothing of its capabilities.”
“Go on.” Claudio regarded the commander with interest.
Lukasz began to pace as he spoke. “The man we captured claims the striga weren’t under his command but his master’s. If that’s true, who is to say that this being can’t summon any number of monsters to his aid?”
Eira’s hands balled into fists. She wanted to object, but she couldn’t deny the soundness of Lukasz’s words.
“What if this prisoner is here only to bait us?” he continued. “He offered no resistance to his capture. He sits in his cell without complaint.”
“You think he means to lead us into a trap?” Barrow asked.
“I don’t know,” Lukasz said. “I’m only pointing out what’s possible.”
Eira bowed her head. Hadn’t she suspected the same thing?
She looked up in surprise when Alistair said, “But we could at least send a scouting party. It would behoove us to seek out evidence of this creature, would it not?”
“Yes,” Eira said a little too quickly, gaining a sharp look from her sister.
Eira returned the look steadily. “The Guard should send a party to hunt for the sorcerer’s master.”
“The Guard is riding to Dorusduain.” Lukasz offered her a quizzical glance. “You’d have us split our force. We don’t know what we’re riding into.”
“Forgo the mission to Dorusduain,” Eira told him. “Our prisoner claims that the village is gone because of his master’s power.”
“How could you keep this from us?” Sorcha asked, drawing a sharp breath.
“I’m telling you now,” Eira said. “What truth lies in this claim, I know not. But the wild man says he was the source of the message about Dorusduain.”
“That’s impossible.” Lukasz scowled. “We captured the sorcerer in the Black Forest. The messenger who brought news of Dorusduain said he was stopped by a stranger on the road from Cluanie.”
“I can’t explain it.” Eira straightened, refusing to give ground. “But how would he know of the message?”
Thomas scratched his beard. “Perhaps a coven of warlocks has risen. Our prisoner could be in league with others.”
“Then we must force our prisoner to reveal the identities of his brothers,” Sorcha said. “And we will hunt them down.”
Barrow nodded. “If they’ve been working together, it could explain the large group of striga. They’d have more power in greater numbers.”
Eira kept quiet. Though she couldn’t pin down why, she knew the sorcerer wasn’t part of a coven. The impossibility of his claims, his very madness, made her believe him incapable of the plot Sorcha was suggesting.
“And if it isn’t a coven?” Cian asked. “Summoning striga is one thing—but what of Dorusduain? Have we encountered any warlock or sorcerer capable of emptying a village with no trace of bloodshed? If this creature the sorcerer calls master is real, what will that mean for us?”
“I fear it would mean war,” Lukasz said quietly. “And a type of war the world has never seen.”
Thomas was watching the commander. “I think you’re right, Lukasz. Even if not a war, any unnatural skirmishes of a greater scale than those we are accustomed to, any larger number of these creatures, could draw attention to Conatus in a dangerous way. If their territories go up in smoke or are suddenly overrun by demons, we’ll be answering to the armies of kings as well as our usual foes.”
“Which would be just as bad as what Abbot Crichton threatens.” Cian nodded.
Sorcha gritted her teeth. “Such a course could be our own undoing.”
“I disagree.” Eira spoke, suddenly desperate to regain control of this discussion. “If we’re going to seek out this ‘master,’ we should not delay.”
“You seem to feel strongly about this issue.” Thomas turned to her. “Why?”
“Because Eira is always for war,” Fionn grumbled.
“It’s the perfect time.” Eira ignored Fionn, answering Thomas. “Now that France is giving aid to the Welsh rebellion, the English are too distracted to pay us mind. And the French are too worried about England to notice what we’re doing.”
Kael thumbed the edge of his dagger. “If the English and French can’t sort themselves out, this war will go on for a hundred years.”
Barrow laughed roughly, nodding. “Indeed it will.”
“What about the Scots?” Claudio asked. “Considering the location of this keep, it’s them we’d best keep an eye on.”
“They’re mired in the succession, plotting ways to kill all the heirs apparent,” Ewan said, earning a cold laugh from Fionn.
“And the Church is focused on the schism,” Eira said. “As long as we keep Abbot Crichton happy with his payment for now, we won’t have trouble with the Church. He’s playing the same game we are, trying to stay out of the mess made by Rome and Avignon. And he’s using the distraction of their squabble to increase his own fortunes. The more land and influence he claims, the more sway he’ll have over whoever claims the papacy. The abbot is now the only one watching us. We have time to work with, but who knows how long that will last.”