If the Lowlanders had had the weapon in greater numbers, they would have been able to hold their land against any invader.
Fallon had already given orders to have any of these so called “boomers” confiscated and brought back. If these Highlanders really knew where to find more, he could only imagine what he could do with such a useful tool.
“I thought finding your way once the mist had fallen was impossible. How are they able to guide people through it?” Fallon queried.
Paul’s face took on a truculent look and he said, “They have some special technique they refuse to share. You have to pass several tests before they reveal their methods. It’s probably just a way to keep us dependent.”
Fallon sat back and propped his head on one hand, tapping his cheek with a finger. This guild sounded like the first form of overarching authority he’d encountered since coming to this land. Smart of them to control who learned of the mist’s weaknesses. Gave them a way to influence events without having to use force.
If Paul’s story was true, Fallon may have just found a solution to the problems his army was currently having and a powerful weapon for the future.
Blade to blade, his army could defeat any force the Lowlands or these Highlands, for that matter, threw at him. So far the battles had been few, and his army had annihilated all foes.
However, there was the little matter of locating new villages and circling back to the places they’d already subdued. It was one of the reasons they had been camped in this valley for the past three months rather than pressing on to their next target.
One out of every three supply trains went missing, and the scouts he sent out ended up dead or lost. The ones who straggled in were missing the majority of his soldiers and spoke of monstrous creatures ambushing them on patrol.
Shea might be the answer to all his problems.
“Can you take me to where she’s heading?”
Paul opened his mouth to say yes, but Witt spoke first. “He can’t.”
Witt grimaced as steel broke the skin and a trickle of blood trailed down his neck. Fallon waved the blade away, interested in what the man had to say.
Witt straightened, not bothering to wipe away the blood. “If he tells you he can, he’s lying. He’ll lead you in circles, because he doesn’t know the way.”
“I could find them,” Paul hissed.
“Why do you think we use pathfinders?” Witt asked, daring to meet Fallon’s gaze head on. “Most of us have a general sense of the way home, but the Highlands have a way of expelling those it considers intruders. And everybody is an intruder.” He allowed himself a snort of derision. “But go ahead. Let the boy lead you to your deaths. It won’t matter; you’ll never catch her. She’s long gone by now.”
“Shut up, you old fool,” Paul said, his voice rising in pitch. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were only supposed to take her. Not us.”
All eyes turned to Paul.
“What are you talking about?” Witt asked softly.
“The elders knew what Goodwin of Ria were planning,” Paul spat. “Why do you think they kept James back? They sent only those they could afford to lose. Trouble makers, every one of you.”
Witt closed his eyes slowly and bowed his head. Yes. He’d wondered why they’d chosen these particular expedition members. They were all men who’d had a problem with the elders at one point or another. Even him.
“They knew he,” Paul lifted his chin at Fallon, “was looking for her and that he’d reward any who brought him information. So they made sure she was placed in his path.”
Darius looked faintly appalled by this proof of betrayal, and his guards shared similar looks of distaste.
“Why?” Fallon asked.
“They asked for a new pathfinder to be assigned time and again. One that wasn’t as useless. She was always telling them no. She was a woman trying to tell our elders what she would do. We were tired of it,” Paul said readily. “Well, the guild wouldn’t give us a new one so the elders took matters into their own hands.”
“You and your foolish elders have destroyed your precious village,” Witt retorted as he made a grab for Paul. His guard grabbed his hands and twisted them behind his back. “The guild doesn’t have to assign a new pathfinder.”
“They will. They have to. It’s in the village bylaws.”
Witt’s lips twisted into a sneer. “They don’t have to do shit. You think they’re going to send another pathfinder to a village with a history like yours? One that lost their previous one?” Witt gave an ugly laugh. “Oh no. Shea will be the last pathfinder your village ever sees. I’m glad too. You backwards, goat arsed traitors don’t deserve another one. Not after this stunt. Your village will be culled from the maps. Nobody will find their way there ever again.”
Fallon watched the interplay, soaking up as much information from their actions as he did from Paul’s words.
He pointed at Witt. “Take him to Trenton and tell him he’s to be kept close.”
Witt was pulled to his feet and hauled out, but not before he sent one last warning to Paul to keep his mouth closed. The boy had already proven to have loose lips. Any secrets he knew would be the warlord’s by morning.
Fallon turned his attention back to Paul. “Now.” He gestured for some food and water to be given to Paul who, having very little of either over the past few days, dug in with gusto. “Tell me everything you know.”
“What do you think?” Fallon asked Darius as Paul was escorted out of the tent.
Darius folded his arms and stared down at his feet contemplatively. “It’s an interesting story.”
“Hm.”
“Can’t tell if these pathfinders’ abilities are myth or fact. Could be superstition.”
“True.”
A thought occurred to Darius, and he called for a guard.
“Sir?”
“Do you know what Damon did with the woman’s belongings?”
“I believe he left them in his tent.”
“Get them for me.”
The guard nodded sharply and left to retrieve Shea’s backpack.
“What are you thinking?” Fallon asked.
“Something he said. It made me think that these pathfinders are very like our scouts.”
Fallon agreed and arched an eyebrow.
“How do our scouts find their way in the wilderness?”
Fallon’s smile was slow and wicked when it came. “Maps.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. Doesn’t matter how good someone is, they’d need a map for areas they had little experience with. I think she’s the same way.”
The guard returned carrying the confiscated bag.
Darius took it from him and carried it to the table where he upended it. He tossed bits of clothing and a plate and cup aside. When his search yielded nothing, he picked up the bag again and felt along the edges.
“Ah ha,” he said victoriously as paper crinkled.
Fallon leaned forward with interest.
After running a knife along the fabric, Darius peeled back the lining and carefully pulled out the folded square of vellum.
Fallon stood, bringing a lamp closer, and looked over Darius’ shoulder as he unfolded the paper and spread it flat on the table.