Larsen sat at his desk and watched Saxe pace back and forth. Saxe's Deputy Guildmaster, John, stood at attention near the door. John was a giant of a man who towered over everyone and wielded a broadsword that struck fear in anyone who was unfortunate to see it drawn on them. He stared at Larsen, but Larsen ignored him. Karch stood impassively beside Larsen's desk.

"Saxe, will you stop your infernal pacing and sit down?" Larsen ran his hand through his hair. He was surrounded by nervous incompetents. Saxe looked at Larsen, anger filling his face before he shook his head and sat down.

"It's that wretched brother of yours, Larsen. You told us you had him under control. You said this was the perfect way to solve two of our problems, when—in fact—it has only amplified them both!"

Larsen took a deep breath and clenched his fists under his desk. "He is a child, Saxe, and if I wasn't surrounded by idiots we wouldn't have these problems. For example, am I hearing you correctly that my wretched brother broke into the Knight Tower, set free two prisoners in special confinement, and then escaped out the front door?"

"He had help. That much is clear," Saxe replied, the confidence in his voice suddenly gone.

"Ah. He had help. Was his help a mysterious cadre of thieves in black? Did he perchance have an assassin clear his way with well-placed lethal attacks?" Larsen had already been briefed and knew the answer—his vile brother had actually freed his friend and the deputy guildmaster with just a few of his miscreant friends.

As he watched Saxe squirm, Larsen was almost glad that Ralan had escaped. The discomfort and pure hatred on Saxe's face was priceless. "He had the help of a few friends. We believe a girl and perhaps a few others."

"A girl?" Larsen leaned forward. "Let me get this straight, Saxe. My brother broke into your own guild prison, somehow snuck past all of your guards, freed a dangerous former member of your guild—a violent criminal who murdered my guild members in my own Tower—and then escaped, all thanks to the help of his girlfriend?"

"Enough!" Saxe's face was red, and spittle flew out of his mouth. Good. I have him outraged. "Ralan and Alard will die." Saxe slammed his fist on Larsen's desk, shaking the inkwell and papers. "He may have fled into the Wretched Quarter, but I will find him if I have to have my knights go through every single hovel and hut."

Saxe looked up and stared into Larsen's face. Larsen presented the epitome of calm. Saxe seemed unnerved by it and changed the subject. "I presume you have a plan in place while I'm hunting down your brother. The disaster you allowed to happen at the Founders Day banquet needs to be undone."

It was Larsen's turn to clench his teeth. That was Karch's fault, not mine, Larsen thought. "Yes, Saxe, I have a plan. It will extricate ourselves from this unfortunate circumstance. In fact, it is a plan that will allow you to ignore my brother and save the effort of your troops. Let Ralan rot in the Ash Fields and among the poor. That is a punishment I believe he deserves."

Peering at Larsen, Saxe said, "This isn't a soft-hearted attempt to save your brother, is it, Larsen?"

Larsen rolled his eyes. "I'm doing you a favor, Saxe. Your men are too frightened to patrol the Wretched Quarter as it is, and you intend to make me believe you can send them in to find a single boy?"

Saxe's replied through clenched teeth. "Just tell me you aren't too attached to your brother."

"Do you forget that it was me who sent my own guardsmen down to kill him? He would be dead already if Alard had not been awake and in armor."

Saxe relaxed. "Very well. I will leave the conniving plans to you, if you remember to leave the death to me. I just hope your plan is good."

Larsen leaned back in his office chair. "It is a simple plan, and those are the most likely to succeed. No more games cooked up by my Deputy," Larsen replied. "This will be short, sharp, and successful."

Saxe stood up. "I hope so, Larsen. I hope so."