“I’m taking off my quiver. Like you wanted,” Zandra said, irritated.
“Just… go slowly.”
Zandra lifted the quiver strap over her head with deliberate slowness, then bent to place it atop her sword belt. Her hand hesitated above the hilt of her short sword.
Don’t you dare,Megs thought at her. She’ll skewer us both.
As if she’d heard Megs’s words, Zandra stood again, lifted both palms like Megs had earlier, and walked backwards until she stood beside her commander.
“Alright,” Megs said. “Maybe we can have a more reasonable conversation now? What do you know about this Lieutenant Clovis of House Andalthia?”
The girl put her free hand on the hilt of her short sword but didn’t draw it. “He’s a slaver,” she said. “His gang tricked me, captured me, sold me to a clan. I escaped the mountain men; they pursued. Last time I saw them, they were heading northeast with some of Clovis’s men. I don’t speak Quanca Carin, but I could tell they were angry. I’m guessing they thought Clovis helped me escape.”
“But he didn’t.”
The girl shook her head. “I don’t need help to escape mountain men.”
Zandra nodded at the dark, wet splotch on the flank of the girl’s armor, just below her right breast. “But you got injured in the process of escape and came here to hide and recover.”
The girl glanced at her injury, which Megs saw once Zandra had pointed it out. “Something like that.”
“My people tied Clovis up while Zandra and I went west to investigate his claims,” Megs said. “He’s not a threat anymore.” She glanced at Zandra. “But why send us on a goose chase to find a tribe that wasn’t there? And he was injured. Did the mountain men do that?”
“He was injured because that’s his ruse,” said the girl. “He and his gang take turns beating each other up, then just happening to turn up, hurt and alone, in front of a group of survivors. That’s how he drew me into his ambush. As for why he sent you here, he probably hoped you would run into the clan and they would capture you, interrogate you, and find your camp.”
“But we have him as a hostage,” Megs said. “They wouldn’t attack while we still had him … would they?”
“Don’t be so sure you still have him,” said the girl.
Megs looked at Zandra. “We need to get back to camp. Now.” Then she turned to the girl. “Come with us if you want. We have healers who can help with your wound – not witches or Brothers, mind you, just regular healers. Midwives and the like.”
Zandra glared at Megs, clearly expressing her opinion on the sudden invitation of the girl who had only recently held a knife to her throat.
Megs ignored her. It wouldn’t be the first time a trusted member of her gang had started as an enemy. Little Seth had lodged an arrow in Dwennon’s arm the day they found the father-son pair.
The girl hesitated. She hadn’t missed the dirty look Zandra had given Megs. “You said your camp lies to the east?”
“Yes.”
“My own path takes me eastward.” Something in the girl’s face changed, like she was reaching a decision. “You both move like you’ve had military training. Are you still loyal to the Empire? To the House of Dorsa?”
Zandra grunted.
“There is no Empire here anymore,” Megs answered. The girl’s face started to sour, so Megs added quickly, “But we are loyal to the people the Empire left behind. And if Emperor Mace ever decides to venture beyond his wall and restore Imperial rule here, we stand ready to help him.”
“Good.” The sour expression disappeared, and the girl tossed Zandra’s dagger back to her without warning. Zandra snatched it deftly by the hilt. “I’ll travel with you. It’s time that Clovis paid for betraying his own people anyway, and I’d like to be there when the debt is collected.”
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Zandra asked. “How do we know you’re not his ally, just trying to get back to him?”
“You don’t,” said the girl, mimicking Megs’s words and tone from a minute earlier. She looked Zandra up and down appraisingly. “But I have the feeling you’re the type of person who can spot a liar, just like I am.” She held her arms out wide. “So do you think I’m lying?”
There was something odd about the way the girl spoke, and it wasn’t just the light Terintan lilt to her words. Her words were so formal, so serious, especially for a teenage Terintan. She spoke almost like … like she was highborn. Which wouldn’t make sense. Megs didn’t know much about Terinto – the only Terintans she’d ever met were the tinkers who traveled through Druet Village around harvest time every year – but she knew they were all lowborn. Even the Terintan nobles were lowborn. They were highborn in name only – traitors to their people, turned into pseudo-lords by Emperor Andreth after Terinto lost their war for independence.
“I don’t think you’re lying,” said Megs.
“Our camp is already crowded,” Zandra said.
Thatwas the first lie any of them had uttered, and it took a great deal of restraint on Megs’s part not to glare at her friend for saying it.
The Terintan girl only shrugged. “I didn’t say I planned to stay. I said my path took me eastward. And that I’m ready to put an end to Clovis profiting off his countrymen.”
“Regardless of where your path takes you,” Megs said, “you are welcome to stay with us as long as you like.” There. That invitation was even better than glaring at Zandra. “One last question. What should we call you?”
“Linna,” said the girl. “Linna of… Port Lorsin.”
Zandra scoffed, pointedly looking Linna up and down. “Of Port Lorsin? You sure about that?”
Linna gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I used to be called Linna of Terinto,” she said, showing that she understood exactly what Zandra meant. “But I claim Port Lorsin as my place name now.”
“Well, then, Linna of Port Lorsin,” Megs said. “We should move swiftly. The sun will be down in less than an hour, and our camp is almost six miles from here through hard terrain.” She nodded at Zandra. “And my companion rather dislikes traveling in the dark.”
Megs picked up her sword belt and strapped it back on; Zandra strode to where the bow had been knocked from her hands, eyes on Linna the whole time. She picked up her bow, then retrieved her own sword belt. Megs knew Zandra wouldn’t forgive the girl for besting her in combat anytime soon. And she wouldn’t forgive Megs for so easily inviting her back to camp. But Megs had a good feeling about the girl, even while her stomach twisted at the thought of the clan of mountain men approaching camp.
“Keep up,” Zandra said, though it was hard to say if she was directing her words at Megs or at Linna. Then she turned her back on both of them and headed towards the valley behind them at a swift jog.
Megs swept her arm forward for Linna to go next, and she brought up the rear.
Megs was almost positive she trusted Linna to be true to her word, but it never hurt to be a few paces behind a stranger’s unguarded back.