The courier tried to bite down on something hidden in his collar, and Ottilie caught his jaw before he could finish.
"No you don't," she said, forcing his mouth open, digging out a small waxed capsule. "Poison. He was ready to die rather than talk."
Kane crouched in front of the bound man. "Who sent you."
The courier said nothing, eyes darting toward the door like he still expected rescue or death, whichever came first.
"He's not talking," Talyn said, arriving with fresh bandages for two wounded fighters nearby. "Not without something to lose more than his life."
"Everyone has something to lose," Kane said. He studied the man's face, dirt-streaked, young, terrified beneath the practiced blankness. "Family. Somewhere. Waiting for you to come home."
The courier's jaw tightened, the sma
