"Your highness!" the ghost cried, crouching in fear. "Forgive me! I couldn't help what I was doing. I bear you no ill will."
Tris could sense the truthfulness of the spirit's words. He frowned, puzzled. "How can that be?"
The ghost remained prostrate. "We were bewitched. You're a Summoner. Read my thoughts-I'll keep nothing back."
"Tell me what happened. Sit up, so that I can see your face. Who bewitched you?"
The spirit of the terrified brigand rose to its knees. "My mates and I were hanging about a pub in a town not far from here. Tafton-on-Kalis-it's on the main road to Ghorbal. We were for hire-usually escorting a merchant to market or getting paid good skrivven to make sure some noble lady gets where she's going without a problem. We'd done our soldiering in the war and we fought with your rebels," the ghost said with a glance toward Soterius. "Other than a brawl or two in the bar when we'd had too much ale, we mostly stayed on the right side of the law."
"Say on."
"Last night, a strange gent came into the pub. Never saw the likes of him around. Kept his cloak on and his hood up."
"Did he have an accent?"
The ghost shook its head. "Spoke like a Mar-golan man. Didn't have the look of a foreigner, or the smell of one, if you know what I mean. Said he was looking for escorts for a pay wagon, and we took him into the back room to talk. Can't talk business in the common room-don't know who's about.
"The deal he offered us was straight. Ride with a pay wagon for a merchant who was doing business with rug traders in Ghorbal. Said we'd need to arm heavy, as we'd be guarding gold. Offered to pay us half up front-that's the kind of deal we like to get, so we all agreed right then, even though we didn't know how he found us." The spirit's gaze darkened. "Must have been a curse on the gold. As soon as we accepted it and put it in our pockets, it started to glow. We couldn't get rid of it. By the Crone! I've never felt like that. Like someone else had pushed into my mind and taken over my body. I couldn't think, couldn't run, couldn't move from the spot.
"Then the stranger told us what we'd really been hired to do, to ride down your party when you left the temple and kill everyone. It didn't matter what I thought-my body obeyed him. I knew what my body was doing, but I couldn't help myself. We knew whether we failed or succeeded we'd be dead men, that we'd never live to spend that accursed gold. But no matter how I fought it, I couldn't help but do the stranger's bidding. So I'm free of one curse, and sure to go to the Crone for trying to murder the king. Please, Your Majesty. Have mercy!"