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heard their conversation about the crime, the plan would be ruined. He could testify against them.
    Commander Mossgail continued to rant. He stomped over to Shanti and stuck a finger close to her face. She suppressed the urge to bend it backward until it broke.
    “Search her room,” Mossgail said.
    “A reasonable request,” Commander Gray Streak said. “Come with us, Shanti.”
    She headed to her room with the others.
    Chief Flat Face mumbled to her, “Inquiry.”
    Once inside, the men in civilian clothes searched through her possessions. Shanti felt the lump in her pocket from the velvet bag containing the hair of the warrior. Good thing she had remembered to take it out of her belongings. Some things she didn’t want to explain. The men confiscated her money bag but did not open it. One of them took a cork out of her container of greenish-gold beetle innards.
    “Careful,” she said. “It’s poison.” She showed them the wristlet of darts strapped to her arm. “Hollow points.”
    “Take that as evidence.”
    The man who had put his arm around her at the inn lifted his hand. She unbuckled the wristlet and gave it to him. He also kept hold of her money bag and the jar of poison.
    Mossgail’s expression brightened, and he snapped his fingers. “She sold my supplies. I hear there’s a man doing business in town, a Nunqua. Shanti’s working for him, or with him. Everyone knows she’s been trained by the Nunqua.”
    Flat Face, standing next to her, coughed, “Inquiry.”
    “Nothing else is of interest here,” the civilian said. “I’d like to see the infirmary.”
    Taking control came naturally to the two unknown men. Judging by their youth and the way they ordered two seasoned commanders around, they were not intimidated by the hierarchy of rank. Constables, perhaps. Investigators. The style of their clothes, the cut of their hair, the way they carried things in the left hand to keep the sword hand free, suggested they were soldiers. Shanti went with them to the infirmary, feeling as if chains would bind her wrists and ankles at any moment. Once inside, she saw Leanna stocking a cabinet while the other women inventoried a trunk full of goods.
    Flat Face mouthed the word “inquiry” to Shanti as Leanna gave the men a tour.
    “Exemplary work on keeping the infirmary in such fine condition, Leanna,” Commander Gray Streak said.
    For the first time, Shanti wondered if the women had set her up for a fall. She had underestimated their scheming.
    “Let’s straighten this out in my office,” Gray Streak said. “Shanti, Commander Mossgail, come with us.”
    They entered the office. Shanti examined the three ceremonial swords displayed on the wall. Gray Streak was a champion sword fighter. Really?
    The investigators placed two piles on the desk. One pile contained her wristlet, the container of poison for her darts, and her money bag. The other pile contained Mossgail’s sword, his lock of hair, and his money bag.
    Between the two piles, the tall man set an antler of some sort, a bull’s scrotum, and a vial of snake venom. “These and other goods were bought from the apothecary in town,” the man said. “This apothecary also has military items for sale, and bottles of alcohol in the back, marked for military consumption.” He picked up the jar of snake venom. “Do you know how much this cost?”
    No one answered.
    “I bought this for one silver coin,” the man continued. He put the vial down, then picked up the antler. “All these and other items were bought with marked coins.” He took a silver coin out of his pocket. “Coins with a unique symbol engraved across the back. If either of these money bags contains the marked coins, it would indicate the owner sold the military stock to the apothecary for their own personal gain.”
    “Who do you think you are!” Mossgail sputtered. “You’re barely old enough to shave. I forbid you to go through my bag without permission from a high commander. I