Gareth didn't send the data. He brought it himself.
Raze heard the horses before he saw them — three riders coming up the eastern trail at a pace that meant either very good news or very bad, and Gareth Valorian didn't ride like a man carrying good news. He came in fast, dismounted before his horse had fully stopped, and had a bound prisoner off the third horse before Darius had even finished stepping into the trail to meet him.
"This is Renn," Gareth said, no greeting, no preamble. "Low-level courier, Elmbridge's eastern crossing. My patrol pulled him off a smuggling route two nights ago. He talks. I wanted you to hear it directly instead of reading my summary of it."
The man Gareth shoved forward was young — younger than Raze, maybe, though it was hard to tell under two days of fear and bad sleep. His hands were bound in front of him, not cruelly, but thoroughly. He wouldn't meet anyone's eyes.
"Sit him down," Raze said. "Untie his hands."
