We returned to the spot Royce had picked as our campsite. It was full night now. I was getting tired from the long day and my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten since morning. I pulled out the food Lucy had given me, and ate as I listened to Royce explain his plan.

Royce said, "Again, we'll use distraction and motivation. But this time our roles will be more elaborate and I'll need Jo to practice before the final act." Perhaps it was the food in my stomach or that Royce had agreed to help the girls, but I was starting to feel better.

I worked to push the last of the familiar pain away. I'd almost forgotten the gut-wrenching hurt that washed over me after killing someone. Just because Royce did the actual slaying, didn't make me feel any better. Even when they deserved it, even when they attacked first, even when I was so good at it, I hated killing. It was just part of who I was.

Royce turned to me, "Hadrian, you'll need to get a job with the sheriff. No one in town has seen you. It shouldn't be a problem for you to get a position with the local authorities now that they are down four men. Get in their confidence and learn where they are keeping the prisoners." He added, "Oh, and don't use your real name, okay?"

Then he said to Jo, "I'll give you a message to take to the sheriff. We've got to turn suspicion away from you and your sisters."

Jo balked, "What? You want me to go back? To the Sheriff!? You might as well just cut my throat here and now."

Royce was unmoved, "By returning, you'll prove you are siding with the authorities against Hadrian and I. You'll have to act afraid of us and convince them that we tricked or forced you into helping us in the first place. That's the only way, if you want to see your sisters free again." He took a bite of bread and continued, "And you'll have to learn how to throw a dagger, very, very, accurately."

Royce gave our new accomplice instructions on what to say. "You've got to get back to the Sheriff tonight. Tell him Hadrian and I killed the others but let you go free with a message because you will be a prophet. You must say I am a religious fanatic, crazy in fact, calling myself the Heir of Novron. Say that I'm spouting nonsense about having visions. I was told by Marabor I must cleanse the world of the corrupt church and any who support it, starting right here in Bramhurst. Warn them that I mean to strike the church next."

I looked at Royce skeptically but said nothing.

He explained, "I'll draw their attention by ransacking some churches. I'll meet with Jo from time to time, as my prophet, issuing crazy divine proclamations. You must bargain with the sheriff and tell them you will only cooperate with them if they let your sisters go free. Once you get good enough with the dagger, we can finish the charade."

He looked at me coldly, "Alright Hadrian?" He was angry. He didn't like sticking his neck out for strangers. He didn't see that it was the right thing to do. This was what Arcadius had meant, that I'd have to be a good influence on him.

"Sure," I answered not letting his scowl get to me, "You're the man with the plan."

After Jo left, I spread out my pitch coated canvas and laid down to sleep. I heard Royce settle into his cloak nearby, but not close enough to touch. I knew he couldn't stay angry with me for long. I might not see him for a few days with this new job of ours, but if Royce wanted to sleep by himself, so be it.

In the morning, I packed my things and said goodbye to Royce, "I guess I won't see you for a while. Be careful." My voice was tight.

Royce nodded, "You too." I could tell he was still frustrated. Yesterday, he had argued that I wanted conflicting things. Yet now, as I read his face and his body language, I saw he was conflicted. He was struggling with his old ways, used to doing jobs on his own terms. This new way, compromising and adapting to having me as a partner, was not easy for him.

It took me most of the morning just to locate the sheriff. As they were down a few men and I only had to prove decent fighting skills, I easily managed to get a job from old Sheriff Ed. I was assigned a spot in the barracks at the keep and enjoyed my first hot, filling meal in over a week. I learned from the other men-at-arms that Lord Foxcomb ran the town and the surrounding lands. Also, Jo had delivered her message and had been sufficiently convincing. The men in the mess hall couldn't stop talking about the religious fanatic that had forced the girls to steal for him.

Over the next few days I was able to eat my fill of barrack food, wash, and shave. I also got acquainted with the layout of the keep and the people who worked there. There were a couple other new recruits who I offered to spar with. Soon I was giving combat lessons to most of the sheriff's men while the rest of the men-at-arms watched. In the evening, we drank a local cider, which wasn't half bad, and shared wild stories about the daring criminal who was menacing the district.

Royce's exploits were all anyone could talk about. All were bloodless, focused on church properties, and some were downright amusing. It make me proud to think of Royce, playing his part so well. He was always so clever and quick. As the sheriff's men had no success stopping the False Heir, as he was being called, Deacon Hibbard had become more and more desperate. Lord Foxcomb had agreed to send a messenger to Ghent to call for a Seret knight. We'd received instructions from Sheriff Ed to show proper respect for the knight once he arrived and obey any and all of his orders. I'd half hoped Royce might show up at the keep, perhaps in the middle of the night, silently appearing by my bed while everyone slept, but he never did.

By the time the Seret knight arrived, rumors about the False Heir's activities were being tossed about, like a sport. The morning we were to meet the knight, the men-at-arms were lined up in the yard, but the minutes dragged on. Restless, some of the men starting talking. Apparently Royce had been busy the night before, looting churches and leaving religious relics all over the countryside.

"Did you hear Haddy?" One of the men slapped me on the shoulder good-naturedly, "Farmer Roger found holy texts strewn all over his apple orchard. The pages were stuck to the branches in clumps, like leaves!"

A guard behind us piped up, trying to top him, "Mr Hoggatt said he picked up a smashed painting of Marabor and Novron from his pigs' slop trough last night. The pigs had eaten most of the canvas and even some of the frame."

A maid standing at the well added, "Cook said that his brother found priestly robes ripped to shreds and tied into bows along their fence."

From the amused gossip that swirled non-stop, I couldn't help but imagine Royce as he caused all this havoc. He was doing quite well with the distraction part of the plan. I could guess that a significant amount of coin had been taken too.

Presently, the doors of the keep opened and Lord Foxcomb emerged followed by three other men. I recognized Old Sheriff Ed, my new employer, and the tired priest, Deacon Hibbard. I guessed the tall man wearing black armor a with red symbol of a broken crown was the Seret Knight. Lord Foxcomb stood erect and announced in rich baritone, "I present Sir Norvale, Seret Knight sent by the Nyphron Church to direct our capture of the criminal known as 'The False Heir.' It is the utmost priority that this dangerous heretic be caught and brought justice. You are ordered to obey his every command." He nodded to the knight.

Sir Norvale stepped forward, scanning the assembled men-at-arms for a moment. His voice was fierce and his words cut to the point, "Novron's name is sacred. Heresy will not be tolerated. You will form squads to patrol the outlying churches under my direct supervision. I expect all of you to take this threat seriously." The knight looked to Lord Foxcomb and nodded slowly, prompting him.

Lord Foxcomb took a deep breath, "Until the criminal is apprehended or killed, your pay will be suspended." A collective gasp escaped the men. Small protests of "What?" and "No pay!" were muttered.

Sir Norvale pulled out his sword and held it up high. Silence fell over the yard. The knight's tone was as sharp as his blade, "Any man who no longer wishes to serve his Lord and Church may leave now, but know this - there will be no mercy for heretics or those who are in league with them." No one dared move.

Foxcomb added, his voice wavering, "Anyone with information leading to the capture of the False Heir will be rewarded. We must all do what we can to help the Church." Then we were dismissed.

I'd seen leaders use this tactic before and it never worked. Punishing people for someone else's failure was short sighted and only bred resentment. At first, the men would be obedient and their fear of the power of the Nyphron church would keep them in line. Eventually though, defiance would crop up. I only hoped our scheme would be done long before then.

Under the knight's orders, Lord Foxcomb continued to keep the sisters, Lucy and Betsy, in a locked room in the cellar of the keep. I learned that the same four guards took turns watching them, each taking a six hour shift. I made a point of chatting with each of them and being friendly during meals, but otherwise not interfering in their work. I saw Jo, still dressed as a man, come and go from the keep. Apparently, she was still bringing messages from Royce. I heard something about rants and raves about his visions of divinity and needing to cleanse the world to start anew. I figured that soon enough Royce would make an offer, or perhaps threaten something, to get Lord Foxcomb to release the prisoners.

Days passed. Although the roof over my head and three square meals a day were nice, I had to admit I missed being with Royce. I missed his touch and they way he anticipated mine. As the days passed, I was more bothered by the way we'd parted. It felt like we'd had some sort of power struggle, with both of us losing. I knew Royce was jaded and cold-hearted, but he was also realistic. He always made sense and thought everything through, even if he was cutthroat. I also knew I could trust him and he trusted me, which was a rare and precious thing.

The moral in the barracks got pretty poor since our pay had been stopped. After the fourth day of no pay, at end of the day, when we were gathered together, an argument broke out. Some of the men wanted to quit but others weren't willing to oppose their ruler and the church.

One of the sheriff's men, a younger recruit, shouted, "If we all band together, and refuse to work unless they pay us, they'll have to agree."

An older guard shook his head, "I won't risk my job. I have a family who depends on me."

I could tell it was going to come to blows and I called out, "Enough!" I stood up straight and all eyes turned to me. "You're both right."

I turned to the young rebellious man, "I hear what you're saying. If we are to make demands we all have to be in it together. But we're not all in agreement, so that won't work."

Then I turned to the older man, "I know you won't risk your position, but you must realize we can't go on working with no pay. That won't help your family either."

Dozens of men looked to me, expectantly. "What we need to do is find the False Heir, as soon as possible." I could tell this wasn't enough to sway everyone. "In the meantime, I'll talk to Deacon Hibbard to see if he can negotiate for us. He may be able to convince the Seret that we're doing the church's work and should be compensated properly." This seemed to help and their eyes softened. I continued encouragingly, "We're a team right? We're in this together."

The men nodded in agreement and went back to their bunks, the mutiny calmed for the moment.

The Seret kept us working a brutal schedule, but after a week, the sheriff's men had nothing to show for it. I had talked to Deacon Hibbard about the discontent in the barracks. He thanked me for coming to him and said he would do what he could to get our pay back. I doubted he could do anything to help, but hoped it would buy enough time for our scheme to finish. Royce still hadn't contacted me and I was getting impatient to move on.

I was sparring with a couple men-at-arms in the yard in the late afternoon, mostly letting them think they were doing well, when we heard shouting at the gate.

Lord Foxcomb headed a small parade of armed men, proud and triumphant. Someone called out, "They've got him! The False Heir." Another exclaimed, "Marabor's beard, they actually captured the crazy bastard."

People started to gather for a glimpse of the heretic. I pushed to the front crowd and was amazed to see Royce, bound, face down, and slung over a horse.

Foxcomb announced, "Thanks to some assistance from a loyal citizen, this lunatic will trouble our land no longer. The False Heir will be tried and executed for his crimes tomorrow." The small crowd of servants and guards who had assembled in the courtyard cheered.

Royce spat and raved, "Infidels! All of you! Marabor will punish everyone here and cleanse this land of your impurity." He clearly was still playing his part, but to what end? I needed to be careful.

Troubled and unsure what was my role now, I approached Old Sheriff Ed. "What happened? I mean, how'd you catch him?"

I watched cautiously, my fists clenched at my sides, as the guards dragged Royce off the horse. They kicked him a few times for good measure, then hauled him into the keep. My heart hammered in my chest, but I didn't dare move to follow, not yet.

Old Ed smiled, "It was the mannish whore, the one who calls herself Jo. Word is, she'd done gotten fed up being this lunatic's messenger. She said she'd betray him, lure him to a trap, if we'd release her sisters. She even made Lord Foxcomb write it down and put his seal to it so he wouldn't take it back later. Smart little bitch." The sheriff shrugged, "What's important is that the filthy dog has been captured. After he's hung, the Seret will head back to Ghent and this province can get back to normal."

I didn't know what Royce had planned at this point, but I would do whatever it took to get him out safely.