The girl was delighted with herself, all her earlier irritation with Evan evaporating at once. She made a show of frowning at him. "You're so old, though. How can you be my student?"
"The one who knows more is the teacher. Age has nothing to do with it." Evan said it without embarrassment. In terms of swordsmanship he was genuinely a beginner, and a wandering adventurer who couldn't fight convincingly wasn't going to last long in this world.
"Andrea, stop pestering him. Wang — come eat while we talk." Breakfast had just arrived.
Evan nodded and followed, running Andrea's lesson back through his mind and deciding immediately that footwork was going to become part of his practice.
The camp ate without ceremony — bread and whatever else the cook had managed. Evan waited until they'd settled before asking: "I know it's probably not my place, but I can't help wondering. What brought you all the way from Ingi Forest to the Liya Demon Forest? I hope it wasn't just for the ransom."
"The ransom was incidental. Someone in his family paid us to arrange the inconvenience." Robin glanced at Franklin with a slight smile that he allowed to show for a moment. "What we actually came for was something the Fang Company took with them when they went to ground in the forest. We've been tracking it."
Evan registered that the answer wasn't complete but didn't push. "The Fang Company?" He had no idea these were the same people he'd killed.
"A mercenary outfit working for Earl Edward. They had a necromancer with them — low-ranked Arcanist, but apparently capable enough. Boniface, I think the name was. Not sure how an Arcanist ends up in that line of work. When Count Laine defeated Edward, the Fang Company went deep into the Liya Demon Forest and vanished." Robin's glance drifted toward Franklin again, and this time the amusement didn't fully disappear.
Evan looked at Franklin, then back at Robin. Something was assembled between those two glances but not yet visible. Robin's reason for being here was more layered than he'd admitted.
He turned his attention to the Fang Company and went through his memory of what he'd taken from the storage ring. Nothing that stood out as unusual.
After breakfast he drew the sword-cane and began to work footwork into his practice — lunge stance, hanging guard, the low sweeping steps Andrea had described, the glide. The integration was awkward at first, his body not yet understanding how the two things were supposed to fit together. Andrea watched for about two minutes and then couldn't help herself, walking over to correct his posture. Under her adjustments the movement began to feel different. Less forced.
He drilled through the morning and into the afternoon without particular awareness of the time passing. He rested only to close his eyes and meditate, reviewing what he'd absorbed. To the rest of the camp he looked like someone with a genuine obsession. No one suspected a lich.
Franklin sat apart with a dark expression. He'd heard enough of Robin's breakfast conversation to know that someone in his own family had paid for his capture. He'd suspected something of the sort the moment he understood that Robin had known both his name and his location. But who? He'd also picked up, without Robin having intended him to, that the Fang Company had been carrying something of interest. Baron Edmund was in Count Laine's camp — and Count Laine had won that war. Whatever the Fang Company had taken was therefore potentially his family's concern. He wanted to go back immediately and couldn't. He was a hostage and had no say in the matter.
It didn't occur to him, yet, to ask whether Robin's disclosure had been entirely accidental.
Three days passed. Evan drilled. Robin watched with quiet surprise at the rate of improvement, then decided it made sense given the hours Evan was putting in. He had spent his previous life lying in a hospital bed; he had a capacity for patient, solitary repetition that most people simply didn't develop. Robin recognized the footwork as basic material — every squire learned it — but he also knew that almost no one drilled it the way this man did, and that made a difference.
Robin was a knight himself. He understood why this level of foundation was useful for someone covering themselves as an adventurer. He didn't see any reason to offer anything beyond it. Mages below the Legend tier generally needed a knight's protection anyway — the time required to chant an incantation was enough for a knight to close and kill several times over. At Legend, the calculus changed: spells became instant, and the body entered a state where short-range translocation became almost reflexive. Until then, the sword was insurance.
Robin took Andrea aside, spoke to her briefly over her objections, and left with most of the company, disappearing into the trees.
Evan caught the tone if not the words and filed it away.
Half a day later, the rest of the camp broke down around them. Everything was packed and loaded on horseback, the palisade abandoned, and they moved — with Franklin and his people in the middle — back through the forest by a roundabout route that eventually brought them to the same stretch of treeline where the ambush had happened three nights before.
Andrea stopped there. A rider came in fast and leaned down to speak quietly with her. Evan caught fragments — something about it being done.
Andrea turned back to the group. Someone brought up four horses — Franklin's, by their markings. Evan understood.
"You're free to go," Andrea announced. She pointed at Evan with mock severity. "And you — I'll miss having such a diligent student." She broke into laughter and swept her arm. "Move out!"
The riders disappeared into the forest in a thunder of hooves. Four people stood watching the dust settle.
Evan smiled slightly, then attempted to follow Andrea's example and mount up. He had never ridden in this life. Nicholas Andrew had, and the memory was there, but the body needed time to catch up with it.
Franklin looked at the horses with something unreadable in his expression. His family had apparently paid after all. Andrea hadn't explained further, and he hadn't asked. Whatever the reason, he was out.
"Wang — we've shared some rough days together. Come to our estate for a while, if you're not in a hurry."
Evan had been intending to learn more about the wider world anyway. He accepted.
The four of them rode south. They hadn't gone far when a column of soldiers appeared ahead. Raymond spotted the insignia first and rose in his stirrups. "Here! We're here!"
The soldiers recognized them and broke into a run. Baron Edmund's people, clearly. Then a bowstring sang in the trees and an arrow came directly for Franklin.
The shot had originated from Evan's side of the column, not aimed at him. His hand moved before he'd thought about it — the cane came up and knocked the arrow off its path. He was still registering what he'd done when Raymond's voice cut through: "Assassin — protect his lordship!"
Becky had her staff out already. She pointed it, chanted fast, and snapped: "Wind Blade!" A faint blue edge materialized in the air and shot toward the trees.
A figure in the branches twisted clear of it, understood that the attempt had failed, and dropped to the ground running. The Wind Blade buried itself in the trunk with a thud. Evan murmured a short phrase and extended his hand: "Wind Bind!"
The figure seized up mid-stride.
A horse burst from the column before anyone else moved, hoofbeats like hammer blows, the rider's greatsword blazing fire-red. Raymond shouted, "Keep him alive!" Too late. The red light flashed. Blood sprayed. The assassin came apart at the waist.
Franklin's expression tightened. "Cousin. You were too fast."
The rider pulled up and looked at him without particular apology. Then he turned to Evan. Franklin made the introduction: "My cousin Friedrich. A knight. And this is my friend Evan Wang, a wandering adventurer."
Evan studied Friedrich. Tall, lean, with eyes that moved quickly and didn't show much of what was behind them.
"Commoners taking a blade to a noble — they had it coming," Friedrich said. "Cousin, how did you get free? Did you manage to escape on your own?"
"Didn't you pay the ransom?"
"Thirty thousand? Uncle won't pay that. He's been assembling men — he wanted to fight his way in and bring you back by force. We're the advance party. You still haven't told me how you got out."
Franklin didn't answer. He sat with it for a moment. Becky and Raymond exchanged a look. Friedrich's gaze settled on Becky, and something came into it that had no business being there. Evan noticed, frowned slightly, and said nothing. He was a lich; there was little he could do about what a nobleman's cousin chose to look at. Becky was young — barely past being a girl — and she felt the gaze and turned her face pointedly away.
"Fine. Don't tell me." Friedrich looked away from Becky without interest, his eyes passing briefly over the two pieces of the assassin on the ground, a faint expression of distaste on his face. "We should head back."
Franklin nodded. "Wang — let's ride." The soldiers formed up around the group, and they moved south.
Evan looked back once at the treeline, thinking about Robin. If Friedrich was telling the truth and the ransom hadn't been paid, then something else had bought Franklin's release. He didn't know what. Robin's reputation suggested he didn't release prisoners without cause.
Friedrich was saying, "Uncle is bringing his full force up here himself. He's not going back without dealing with those bandits."
Evan turned forward. "Baron Edmund is here in person?"
"That's right."
"Then the estate is undefended." He said it simply. One sentence. Franklin's face changed completely.