NARRATOR

IN DUKE THESIO’S CAMP…

"Have you gotten anything out of that spy?" Thesio asked the messenger who returned on horseback.

He was stationed in an improvised camp, a bit far from the main camp controlled by his general.

"No, sir, not even under torture has he said anything useful," the man reported. Thesio frowned, sitting on the fallen trunk of a tree.

He would have liked to intimidate that man himself, but it wasn’t in his best interest to be in such a compromising place.

He knew Elliot; that man would latch onto anything to incriminate him, and now, with that secure box in his possession, Thesio feared the worst.

In an extreme case, he could find himself a scapegoat, claim that Arthur was the mastermind, that he had acted behind his back. That’s why it wasn’t wise to show his face.

"Go back and tell Arthur to eliminate him, dismantle all the evidence, and pack up the camp without leaving anything behind," he decided instantly.

Enough of this game of cat and mouse. It was clea