Before long, the hunt for Arthur was on.
Three teams. Three locations. The logic was simple enough that even the lords who had spent the council meeting arguing against it had stopped arguing once the king stood up. Ironside took the Vethmore garrison route with the heaviest ground force, thirty knights, veterans most of them, the kind of men who had been doing this long enough that fear had become a professional acquaintance rather than a personal one. Egor took Crowhill with a mixed unit, still recovering from the hole in his chest which he had addressed with the same energy he addressed everything, which was to treat it as an administrative inconvenience and move forward.
Noah's team drew Duskwater.
On paper it was the lightest assignment. Valen as the senior knight. Pip. Nami. Werner. Four recruits who had survived the gate and the harbor and the pass and were now being sent after a king.
