For the first time there was a snap in the Lord Captain Commander's voice. Blood streamed down his face like a flood of tears from his empty sockets. Inside nestled two hard leather cases. They could play their Great Game if they wanted, but Ingtar had come, and he was finished with it at last.
He might be able to talk the Illuminators into letting them go; Trollocs did not listen before they killed. You said no trace. Or so it seemed, at least. Fain was sitting on his cot, leaning forward expectantly as if waiting, just as Changu had said.
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