"Four. Five, if a spare hand should surface between now and when you go." Something about duty rosters and Riftwatch members already afield on other work. Presumably someone is always going and coming back, and it's possible one of them might be plucked from their too short return to the Gallows and ushered off again under Marcus' temporary command. Staffing—an eternal agony.

"But that should give you plenty of leverage, assuming you find them in the right moment. Mind," he says, lifting his attention from the pages to look at Marcus. "These won't be southern mercenaries or caravan traders. They're like to have a mage of their own and won't be frightened of you unless you work at it."