Quinn dealt him the ten of hearts. Keegan closed his eyes. He’d gone over.
As the hand finished and the men turned over their hole cards, Lieutenant Tanner won with a combination of nineteen. Gathering his winnings, he shrugged. “Hard luck, Keegan, but it looks like you’re out.”
Keegan’s forehead was perspiring. “No . . . wait. Just give me a moment, and I’ll be right back.”
Quinn looked up in alarm as Keegan fled the room, and a few of the visiting soldiers shifted uncomfortably.
“I do so pity a fellow who doesn’t know when to stop,” one of them said.
But not long after, Keegan came hurrying back . . . carrying the bag with his men’s payroll. He was going to bet with his men’s wages? In spite of her low opinion of Keegan, Amelie had not thought even him capable of that.
Quinn was staring at him as he sat down.
But Keegan glared across the table. “Deal the cards, Corporal.”
The small, dim room vanished, and Amelie was rushing forward on the mists again.
When they cleared, she was in a great hall with walls of stone and a hearth large enough to stand in.
Captain Keegan was down on one knee, on the floor with head bowed.
Amelie looked to see a muscular man with graying hair and a proud bearing sitting in a chair on a dais up above the captain. He wore a loose red jerkin accented by gold thread. Three jeweled rings on each hand adorned his fingers.
His expression was unreadable.
“I don’t know what to say, my prince,” Keegan said. “The act is unforgivable.”
Amelie’s eyes flew back up to the dais. She was looking at Anton’s father, Prince Lieven. He looked nothing like Anton, who was slender, with soft dark hair and narrow features.
“It is unforgivable,” Prince Lieven said, and his voice echoed through the hall. “In all my years, I’ve never heard of a captain gambling away his men’s wages. You’ve broken a sacred trust. How will any of them send money to their families? Once this news is out, you will lose your office, and no man will ever serve under you again.”
Keegan’s body flinched, as if he’d been struck, but he didn’t raise his eyes from the floor.
Prince Lieven was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “Though the act is unforgivable, it is not beyond repair. Would you be willing to do a small service for me? If so, I would replace your men’s wages, and no one need know.”
Keegan’s head snapped up. “A service?” he breathed.
“Yes, I require an officer to go north and oversee the silver-mining operation in Ryazan. If you would be good enough to take on the command, I will see that your men are paid.”
Keegan’s jaw twitched, and he went pale.
Amelie realized he must have known something of Ryazan, of the desolate place he was being sent.
“Of course, if you would rather not . . . ,” the prince said casually, as if it didn’t matter one way or the other.
“I’ll go, my prince,” Keegan said quickly. “With gratitude.”
He had no choice, and even he was wise enough to see that.
The prince nodded. “Good. The flow of silver is important to the welfare of our province here. You and Lieutenant Sullian may take a few days to prepare, and you will leave at the end of the week.”
Keegan’s eyes were hollow, almost as if he’d been given a death sentence, but it was still better than public humiliation and being stripped of rank.
“Yes, my prince,” he managed to say.
The great hall vanished, and Amelie was swept forward on the mists again, with a mix of thoughts churning in her mind. She expected to leave the visions behind now and find herself back inside Keegan’s tent, sitting next to Jaromir.
But instead, when the mist cleared, she was standing out in the open of the soldiers’ encampment in Ryazan, still an observer. What could she need to see here? Dusk was nearing, and looking around, she could see Captain Keegan’s large, new tent had been set up, but other elements of the camp were different, and several of the smaller tents were missing, as if Keegan’s men were still getting situated and settled.
Keegan and Sullian both came striding through the camp toward her as evening campfires were being lit. She could hear them talking.
“It’s not so bad, Captain,” Sullian was saying. “We’ve only been here three weeks, and I’ve already managed to sign on new miners. Production is up, and the prince will be pleased.”
Keegan grunted. “There’s no need to try to put a good face on this. We’ve been banished, and it’s my fault. But we won’t be here long. I’ll find a way to get us back to Castle Pählen.”
Sullian paused and lowered his voice. “Sir . . . some of the men seem to know why we were assigned here. I don’t know how they learned of it. Neither Quinn nor I would breathe a word, but I fear it may undermine your authority.”
“You let me worry about that. I can handle the men.”
He seemed about to say more when Amelie heard a choking sound. Both Keegan and Sullian turned their heads at the same time she did. A young soldier who’d been building a campfire suddenly began retching with force, struggling to draw in air at the same time.
“Guardsman!” Sullian called, hurrying over to help.
But the soldier collapsed, his mouth contorting in pain. His chest began to expand, and his hands began to change. Fur sprouted from his skin as his clothing began to split, and his fingers were turning into claws.
His face was elongating.
“Sullian!” Keegan shouted, grabbing his friend and pulling him away.
As he did so, Amelie looked at Keegan’s face. Somehow, she knew she’d come to this place in time to watch him and not the soldier who was transforming.
Savage snarls exploded from her right, but she kept her eyes on Keegan.
“What is that?” someone cried.
Staring, Keegan was stunned, absolutely shocked by the scene before him. He had no idea what was happening.
“Get the spears!” Sullian ordered.
“Sir!” another soldier shouted. “It’s running toward the miners’ camp!”
“After it!”
The scene vanished, and Amelie was in the mists, rushing forward. When they cleared, she was back in the captain’s tent, looking down at his green-tinged face. Jaromir sat on one side of her, still holding Keegan down, and Céline stood on her other side toward the end of the bed.
The first emotion to hit her was anger as she realized what her last vision had meant.
“Amelie,” Jaromir said, as he let go of Keegan. “What did you see?”
Jaromir had never seen Amelie come out of a reading so angry.
“It’s not him!” she spat. “Whoever is doing this to the soldiers, it isn’t him.”
Keegan was staring up at her with wide, bloodshot eyes, as if he feared what she was about to say.
“He gambled away his men’s payroll,” she rushed on, “and that’s how he ended up here.”
“Gambled away . . . ?” Jaromir had never heard of such a thing.
“But the final memory I saw was of the first soldier who turned . . . at least I think it was the first soldier.” She jammed a finger in the air toward Keegan. “He was stunned, confused. He didn’t have any idea what was happening.” Her chin dropped. “It’s not him.”
“Of course it’s not me,” Keegan croaked. “You thought it was?”
Jaromir fought to absorb everything Amelie was saying, but her agitation and clear disappointment bothered him the most. Did she want Keegan to be guilty?
Céline stepped closer, putting her hand on Amelie’s shoulder.
“Let’s go someplace and talk alone,” Céline said quietly.
Amelie didn’t rise. She leaned forward, putting her face directly into Keegan’s. “I know who poisoned you,” she bit off.