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"Someone messed up. He was taken prisoner by mistake."

"Who says it was a mistake?"

Jennsen lifted the knife from its sheath at her belt and held it by the blade, nonchalantly showing the man the handle. "I do."

His iron eyes briefly took in the design on the handle. Still, he stood in the same relaxed stance, barring the iron door to the passageway beyond. Jennsen twirled the knife through her fingers, caught it by the handle, and returned it smoothly to its sheath at her belt.

"I used to carry one, too," he said with a nod toward the knife she had returned to its sheath. "Few years back."

"But not any longer?" She applied gentle pressure to the crossguard until she felt the knife click home. The soft sound echoed back from the darkness behind her.

He shrugged. "It gets wearing, having your life at risk for Lord Rahl all the time."

Jermsen feared he might ask her something about the Lord Rahl, something she couldn't answer, but should be able to. She sought to block that possibility.

"You served under Darken Rahl, then. That was before my time. It must have been a great honor to have known him."

"Obviously, you didn't know the man."

She feared she had just failed her first test. She had thought that everyone who served would be a loyal follower. She thought it would be safe to go with that assumption. It wasn't.

Captain Lerner turned his head and spat. He looked back at her with challenge. "Darken Rahl was a twisted bastard. I'd have liked to put his knife between his ribs and twisted it good."

Despite her anxiety, she showed him no more than a cool expression. "Then why didn't you?"

"When the whole world is crazy, it doesn't pay to be sane. I finally told them I was getting too old and took a job down here. Someone far better than I ever was finally sent Darken Rahl to the Keeper."

Jermsen was thrown off by such an unexpected sentiment. She didn't know if the man had really hated Darken Rahl, or if he was only saying he did in front of her so as to show loyalty to the new Lord Rahl, Richard, who had killed his father and assumed power. She tried to gather her wits without being obvious.

"Well, Tom said you weren't stupid. I guess he knew what he was talking about."

The captain laughed, a spontaneous, deep, rolling sound that unexpectedly made Jennsen smile at the incongruity of it coming from a man who otherwise looked like death's darling.

"Tom would know." He clapped a fist to his heart in salute. His face softened to an easy smile. Tom had helped her again.

Jennsen clapped a fist to her heart, returning the salute. It seemed the right thing to do. "I'm Jennsen."

"Pleased, Jennsen." He let out a sigh. "Maybe if I'd have known the new Lord Rahl, like you do, I might still be serving with you. But I'd already given it up by then and come down here. The new Lord Rahl has changed everything, all the rules-he's turned the whole world upside down, I guess."

Jennsen feared she was treading on dangerous ground. She didn't know what the man meant and feared to say anything in response. She simply nodded and forged ahead with her reason for being there.

"I can see why Tom said that you'd be the one to see."

"What's this about, Jennsen?"

She took a deep, casual breath, preparing herself. She had thought it out a hundred different ways, forward and backward. She was ready to come at it from any angle.

"You know that those of us who serve Lord Rahl in this capacity can't always allow everyone to know what we're doing, or who we are."

Captain Lerner was nodding. "Of course."

Jennsen folded her arms, trying to look relaxed, despite how her heart pounded. She had made it past the riskiest assumption; she had guessed correctly.

"Well, I had a man working with me," Jennsen went on. "I heard he was taken prisoner. It wouldn't surprise me. The fellow sticks out in a crowd-but for what we were doing, that was what we needed. Unfortunately, the guards must have noticed him, too. Because of the mission and the people we were dealing with, he was well armed, so that would have put the men who stopped him on edge.

"He hasn't been here before, so he wouldn't know who to trust, and besides, it's traitors we're hunting."

The captain was frowning in thought as he rubbed his jaw. "Traitors? In the palace?"

"We don't know for certain. We suspect infiltrators are about-that's who we're hunting-so he wouldn't dare to trust anyone here. If the wrong ears heard who he really was, it would imperil the rest of us. I doubt he would even give you his real name, though he might haveSebastian. With the danger we're in, he would know that the less he says, then the less risk there is to the others on our team."

He stared off, seeming to be caught up in her story.

"No… no prisoner has admitted to that name." His brow bunched in earnest reflection. "What's he look like?"

"A few years older than me. Blue eyes. Short white hair."

The captain instantly recognized the description. "That one."

"My information was correct, then? You have him."

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