The vigil now known as Cregan glared at me. I didn’t say anything else, figuring the phrase I’d just used to curse at him had satisfactorily explained my wishes for the cause of his death.
“You’ve met Cregan,” Conner said, then added, “Mott is our driver.”
Mott glanced back to nod a hello at me. He and Cregan couldn’t have been designed to look more different from each other. Mott was tall, dark-skinned, and nearly bald. What little hair he did have was black and shaved to his scalp. He was the one by the tavern who’d tripped me when I was trying to escape the butcher. In contrast, Cregan was short — not much taller than I was, and shorter than the tanned boy near me. He was surprisingly pale for a man who likely spent much of his day outdoors, and he had a thick crop of blond hair that he tied back at the nape of his neck. Mott was lean and muscular while Cregan looked softer than I knew him to be, judging by the way he’d clubbed me at the orphanage.
How strange that there could be two people so different from each other and yet my dislike for them was equally fierce.
Conner motioned to the boys in the wagon with me. “That’s Latamer and Roden.”
Latamer was the cougher. Roden had ratted me out for being awake. They nodded at me, then Latamer shrugged, as if to say he had no more of an idea why we were here than I did.
“I’m hungry,” I said. “I’d planned on having roast for dinner, so whatever you’ve got had better be good.”
Conner laughed and tossed an apple onto my lap, which sat there because my hands were still tied behind me.
Roden reached over, snatched the apple, and took a big bite of it. “One of the rewards for not having fought coming along. I’m not tied up like a prisoner.”
“That was mine,” I said.
“The apple was for anyone willing to take it,” Conner said.
There was silence for another moment, except for the sound of Roden eating. I stared icily at him, though I knew it’d do no good. If he came from an orphanage as I did, he knew the rules of survival. Rule number one said you took food whenever it was available, as much as you could get.
“Neither of you fought Conner?” I asked Latamer and Roden.
Latamer shook his head and coughed. He probably didn’t have the strength to fight. Roden leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his legs. “I saw the orphanage you came from. It was ten times the place I lived in. Then Conner comes and says if I cooperate, I could get a big reward. So no, I didn’t fight.”
r looked at me again. “He doesn’t look so humble now.”
“I got over that too,” I said.
“So why’d you let him stay?” Conner asked Mrs. Turbeldy.
Mrs. Turbeldy hesitated. She didn’t want to tell him it was because I picked up goodies for her now and then, ribbon for her hats or chocolates from the cake shop. Because of that, Mrs. Turbeldy didn’t hate me nearly as much as she pretended to. Or maybe she did. I stole from her too.
Conner walked back to me. “A thief and a liar, eh? Can you manage a sword?”
“Sure, if my opponent doesn’t have one.”
He grinned. “Do you farm?”
“No.” I took that as an insult.
“Hunt?”
“No.”
“Can you read?”
I stared up at him through the parts of my hair. “What are you wanting me for, Conner?”
“You’ll address me as Sir or Master Conner.”
“What are you wanting me for, Sir Master Conner?”
“That’s a conversation for another time. Gather your things. I’ll wait for you here.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, but when I leave the comfort of Mrs. Turbeldy’s fine establishment, I go on my own.”