But that didn’t mean he had to accept it.

“Go back to your homes,” he told them. “We were offered safety, and a soft place to lay our heads. Will you betray that now, all for the promise of gold?”

“He’s a criminal,” said an older man. Jerico recognized him as the farmer who had lent them the shed. Several others murmured in agreement.

“As am I,” Jerico said. “An outlaw, so says your Lord Sebastian. Will you turn me in next?”

Plenty looked unhappy at that. Support for Kaide ran deep, and Jerico had quickly become a hero for his pivotal role in the battle at Green Gulch. Only the messenger seemed not to care.

“That’s different,” muttered one of the farmers. “You ain’t done what he’s done. Send him out, and let it all be over quick.”

Jerico felt torn, but knew he could show no weakness. He needed to hear it from Darius’s lips, know for certain what had happened. Shed no innocent blood. If there was anything that had been hammered into his thick skull during his training at the Citadel, that had been it. But he was also trained to protect, and letting his friend be strung up by a mob felt a bit contradictory to that.

“The coin won’t buy you happiness,” Jerico said, his voice softer. “It will only tear apart the love you have for one another. It won’t bring peace. It won’t bring safety. Do not do this. You offered us shelter and safety. Don’t stain your hands with treachery.”

Before any could answer, Darius stepped out into the night. His armor, dark steel, shimmered in the torchlight. His hollow eyes looked to the crowd, which gave him a wide berth. Despite their numbers, attacking someone so well armored, strong, and skilled was something none of them were prepared to do alone.