“And how long do you think she’ll continue to survive out here in the wild? It might’ve been kinder to let her drown.”
I didn’t bother pulling rank when we were traveling together. Those who were afraid to hear any criticism made for piss-poor leaders. Cavis’s pouting made me wish I’d taken a different approach.
“When you rescue half-drowned wildcats, you have to be prepared for them to slash you to ribbons,” I said. The last thing we needed was attention, and a woman who’d somehow ended up in the river would draw far too much of it. She was trouble. I’d known that the moment she’d stumbled into me in her village, almost drawing the assessor’s scrutiny.
A few days spent escorting her back to her village could be the difference between finding what we were seeking and losing it forever. The interest we’d receive from those villagers—and any guards in the area—would also jeopardize our plans once they began asking questions. And realized we were not where we should be.
I surveyed my men. Galon rolled his eyes. Marth grinned, while Rythos just shook his head.
“Pretty wee thing,” Marth said.
She was a pretty wee thing. While she’d been pale, her skin had enough color to tell me she enjoyed spending time in the sun. A wealth of curly white-blond hair had tumbled over her shoulders as she’d glared at me. Her eyes had burned into mine—a strange but not unattractive amber, more gold than brown. Her mouth was lush, with a pillowy bottom lip. That mouth had twisted, her sharp little chin jutting out when she’d realized we were leaving her.
Rythos snorted. “Sometimes it’s a damned shame you’re so cold, Lorian.”
I rolled my eyes. If my brother could hear my men sounding like a group of kindhearted old women, he would mock me ruthlessly.
“Was I the only one who saw through her helpless act?”
Rythos gaped at me. Cavis frowned.
I just shook my head once more. The wildcat had been half drowned and clearly bewildered to find herself still alive. But she hadn’t been helpless at all. I’d caught the way she’d sized us up. She likely hadn’t even been aware she’d been doing it. But it had told me that she’d survive just fine on her own. Besides, we didn’t have time to linger on this trip. Everything I’d worked so hard for was within reach, and I wouldn’t risk it because some village girl had been stupid enough to fall in the river.
A village girl who’d been wearing nothing but a wet white dress, which had clung to her like a second skin. Running my hand over my jaw, I shook my head. Clearly, so many days of traveling were taking a toll.
If I’d had any second thoughts about leaving the village girl, those had been quashed the moment I’d seen the cold retribution in her strange amber eyes.
“Those with nothing left to lose make the most dangerous enemies of all,” I said. I should know.
Rythos’s eyes turned to slits. Clearly, he was on Cavis’s side.
I glanced at my closest friend. “And do you agree with our softhearted friends, Galon?”
He merely frowned. “I liked that cloak.”
My lips trembled as I suppressed a chuckle. One glance at Rythos’s appalled expression and I ruthlessly firmed them. “We need to move faster if we’re going to cross the bridge before sunset. I want a hot meal and a deep sleep,” I said.
Rythos sniffed and faced forward, nudging his horse until he was no longer riding next to me. The man would sulk for days, and he was our best cook. Thanks to the village girl, whatever meat I ate next would either be charred black, raw in the middle, or both.
Heaving a sigh, I urged my own horse onward.
CHAPTER FOUR
If I survived the next few days, I would look back with a kind of befuddled wonder. The odds of staying alive were so low, if I thought about those odds, I’d be stuck here for what little remained of my life, frozen in fear.
And so I trudged on, following the Dytur River east. I’d need to find a place to cross and continue to work my way farther southeast toward the city.
If I’d been prepared for this trip, I could have crossed the river near my own village. It would have added a few days to my trip, but I would’ve avoided most other travelers. But the cooler temperature and lack of food would be a death sentence. So I needed to get to Mistrun—one of the few settlements large enough to be called a town north of the river. There, I could steal food, a weapon, maybe even some boots.
The last time I’d visited Mistrun, I’d been a child. My parents had both been alive. At least, the people who’d called themselves my parents. Guilt, fury, sorrow, all of it wound together until I pushed that thought away.
At the time, they’d been debating where we would move next, and Papa had thrown up his hands, declaring he would be happy wherever his family was.
Grief curled under my ribs and kicked out at the thought of my affable father. I missed him like a lost limb, and yet my entire childhood was a lie. I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked.
No. I would fall apart later. If I gave in to the yawning hole opening up inside me, I’d lie down here and never get up again. My ability to survive would depend on making smart decisions. One wrong move out here, and I was dead.
I had to get away from the river soon. The king’s guards would expect me to stay close to it if I was still alive. Although, surely, after learning I’d fallen into that freezing river, they wouldn’t expect me to have survived. The sun was slipping down behind the trees, taking the last of the late-afternoon warmth with it. Soon, I’d have to find somewhere to curl up and hide for the night.
What had happened to Mama after she’d pushed me off that cliff? The king’s guards flashed into my mind, and I forced them out. Where was Tibris? My brother had always inspired loyalty, thanks to his insistence on healing anyone—regardless of their ability to pay. Maybe one of the people he’d helped had given him some food or directed him to shelter for the night.
Pain howled through my foot as I kicked a rock. I sucked in a breath and glowered down at it. My toe screamed at me.
“Well,” a voice said. “Who do we have here?”
Dread coiled like a snake in my belly. I turned. Another reason to stay away from the river. It masked the sound of someone stalking me.
The man was tanned and clean-shaven. He stood several foot-spans taller than me, with broad shoulders and thick thighs. He carried a bow, his shirt straining over the kinds of muscles men attained when they spent their days hauling slaughtered deer back to their villages. He eyed me, and his hand drifted to the long knife on his hip.
A hunter. The fact that he was here meant I was closer to Mistrun than I could’ve hoped. It also meant that this man was well used to bringing down his prey and dragging it home for payment.
I was dead.