“The assault failed,” Haden said from behind his steepled fingers. He sat at his desk, his elbows upon the smooth wood surface, his eyes focused on the poor bastard standing before him.
“Yes, sir,” the young, poorly dressed, man replied. “All of Hector’s men escaped or were retrieved, but the blessed escaped.”
“We don’t know,” the messenger said before swallowing audibly. “One minute he was in a service tunnel being chased by two of the mercenaries, the next he was gone.”
“The tunnels were searched?” Haden asked as his eyes tightened at the edges and his knuckled cracked with silent frustration.