Federik laughed. "They wouldn't dare raid a proper town. They're brigands."
"He's Reuben," Evan said.
Felix was already moving. "Ride back — all of us, now." He didn't wait for agreement; his horse was already turning.
The advance party numbered twelve cavalry. When they understood the urgency, they moved. Federik shrugged and followed, which was the only available option.
Two hours later they intercepted Baron Aymon himself, coming up the track with his full complement — fifty soldiers, mostly foot, five or six mounted. The Baron wore full plate without the visor down, a jousting lance in his squire's hands, a sword at his hip, the six-pointed array of gems and Mithril on his breastplate catching the afternoon light.
"Felix — you're safe." He was genuinely relieved.
"Father, you've brought everyone. The town—"
"They wouldn't dare hit the town. They're a pack of forest bandits."
The messenger came before Felix could argue further. He was riding hard, and he was shouting from a hundred yards out.
"Bandits in the town. The castle's fallen."
The column went chaotic for approximately three seconds. Baron Aymon went still for one of those seconds and then was giving orders, his voice pulling everything back together. Felix organized the cavalry into an advance unit and led them at speed, leaving the Baron to bring the infantry.
Evan rode beside Felix and said: "Your mother and sister will be fine."
"How do you know that?"
"Reuben needs the money, not the bodies. He staged this to embarrass your father — the ransom demand was refused, so he answered with a demonstration. He'll have cleared out before we arrive."
They rode hard for an hour and a quarter. When they reached the town, the gates were standing open, the castle had been entered through an unguarded side passage, and the interior had been systematically stripped of everything portable and valuable. Rough estimate: a hundred thousand gold coins' worth, taken in perhaps two hours by people who knew exactly where to look and had clearly been briefed on the layout.
The Baroness was unharmed. She stood in the stripped hall with the expression of someone who had been made to feel foolish and was deciding how to arrange her face around it. Felix's half-sister Yve — a genuine beauty, who resembled the Baroness more than Felix did — gave Felix a single withering look and swept out of the room. The Baron's young son by the Baroness was ghost-white and trembling; he'd been frightened rather than harmed.
"My lady," Felix said to the Baroness, with a small bow. "I'm sorry you were put through this."
"It's done. Your father?"
"Behind us with the infantry. He'll arrive within the hour."
Two servants had minor injuries. The steward had been struck. The rest of the household was intact.
Felix found Evan later that evening. "You were right about everything."
"Reuben traded your ransom for ten times the value. Your father refused thirty thousand and lost a hundred thousand." Evan paused. "He won't feel good about that."
"He shouldn't." A pause. "Why didn't you explain it all earlier? When you saw it coming?"
Evan smiled slightly. "Some observations are better made after the fact."
Felix understood. He had Evan shown to a room, excused himself to deal with the aftermath, and didn't appear again that evening.
The room was a guest's room, plain and clean. Evan shut the door, practiced his new footwork for an hour, and then lay down on the bed and thought. The castle, the escape, the Fangs, Boniface, the forest month, this family and its fault lines — all of it had happened in less than two months. He was starting to understand how this world moved, and he was starting to feel like himself in it, rather than like someone else's ghost wearing someone else's bones.
He fell into the meditative state, felt the cool current cycling, and let himself rest.