In his study, Alaric did not sit. He paced once, twice, then stopped and looked at his men, his sworn brothers, as if testing their steadiness.
"Listen," he said, the command in his voice making the air tighten. "Those men know where the drop points are, and where they were to go next if we hadn't caught them. If we want to follow a trail back to whoever feeds them orders, we start with those points. Not rumor. Not tavern talk. Drop points."
Carlden inclined his head. "Yes, Regent."
"Marcus." Alaric's gaze cut to the younger commander. "You take the prisoners. Question them again. Every drop point they ever went. Every loose stone, false barrel, hollow. Get names, times, markings, exact wording of the cipher if you can. Make them list locations from memory."
He let the sentence hang.
"Do not let them think of lies. Make the truth easier than the lie."
Marcus nodded. "I'll begin at once."
