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Chapter 5 ~ Any Sword Worth Their Weight

Rígan

Three days later, sun warming late morning dew from the grass, I bounced in my saddle as my horse trotted along the open road toward the Keep. Green fields and softly rolling hills covered in fragrant purple and yellow flowers flanked us on either side. It was a stark contrast from the fields we’d first passed through, destroyed homes and mournful faces.

I’d convinced Maya and Lou that we should help the farms the day before, though it hadn’t needed much convincing. We helped a family start construction on a new barn. Friends of theirs worked in lumber and donated enough for the building. We worked in silence, the atmosphere heavy with the knowledge that not every family on the neighboring farms was intact. We didn’t see the four who’d stood on the street in Ardanna the other day. I wondered if they were back out there with their cups.

Going through the fields earlier today without stopping to help had been torture. We left through the northern gates, planned so we’d bypass the bulk of the farms. The fewer people who could track us, the better. We emerged onto the highway connecting to the western gate after a while, only a few affected farms before us. I wanted to pull on the reins, force us to stop, but made myself keep going. The pang in my chest wasn’t a stranger; I’d felt it on tours when I was younger, especially foreign ones when my father told me there wasn’t much we could do in someone else’s country. He and the nobles with us passed out coin sometimes, but he’d always claimed it was too much of a risk for me to do much of anything for those struggling. I understood that now—I wouldn’t want inexperienced fifteen-year-olds putting themselves in a position to be mobbed—but I’d been incensed then.

We’d left the farmlands an hour ago, but the smell of burned hay still lingered in my nose, trapped. I stroked the side of my mare’s neck to ground myself. Dove, her name was. Black as a crow’s feather and soft like velvet. The stable hands had warned me she was unruly and slow to trust, but she’d given me a gentle headbutt, nuzzling into my side, and I’d instantly fallen in love.

Lou rode to my right on their dappled gray mare, Aonbar, while Maya was on my left on the dark brown Chestnut. Their hooves beat a comforting rhythm on the well-trodden road. While both Lou and I had readily taken to our mounts, Maya had unsurprisingly latched on to Chestnut with unrivaled fervor. The corners of my mouth lifted as she leaned over Chestnut’s neck and cooed. Her joy was contagious.

When she caught me looking, she shrugged. “What can I say, Chestnut and I were meant to be.”

“She certainly took well to you,” Thomas, the royal guard Dàibhid assigned to our group, said. He was a stocky, shorter man—the top of his head met the bridge of my nose—somewhere in his late twenties, with the right build to put weight behind a sword.

Dàibhid had chosen Thomas for the assignment because he trusted the guard as a swordsman and a friend. Thomas was nice enough; I could see why people liked him. And if Dàibhid trusted him, I supposed we didn’t have much of a choice but to do the same. We’d have to believe that if something went wrong, Thomas would do his job and bring news back to Dàibhid. Still, I’d wait for him to prove himself before trusting him entirely.

“I’ve known Chestnut since she was a foal,” Thomas said. “Always been a sweet thing, but there seems to be something special about you.”

Maya beamed at the compliment.

Thomas pointed to Dove. “That one is finicky.”

Dove snorted as though offended.

“So I’ve been told,” I said. “But you love me, don’t you, Dove?” Her head bobbed. “See?”

“And mine?” Lou asked.

“I honestly don’t know much about her,” Thomas said. “She’s never bonded with anyone. A good nature, strong stride, but that’s about all I can tell you.”

“Maybe I’ll be the one she bonds with. It’s officially my secondary mission.”

I barked a short laugh. “And I bet you’ll manage it, too.”

“Lou has an eerie ability to do whatever they set out to do,” Maya said to Thomas. “Seriously. Ask them what skills they’ve acquired in the last year alone.”

Lou shook his head good naturedly. “I didn’t learn that many skills.”

“He’s also incredibly humble,” I said. “We have to brag for him half the time.”

“An apprentice of many trades, then?” Thomas said. His deep copper hair was done up in a small bun, and his pale cheeks, reddened by the sun and smooth above a trimmed beard, were covered in a swath of freckles that continued to his hands.

“In a manner of speaking,” Lou said.

“If you need leather cured, shoes cobbled, rope made, a portrait painted, clay cast into a sculpture, or a gourmet meal cooked, Lou’s your person,” I said.

Thomas’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

Lou was so humble, in fact, that they simply shrugged, but a bashful smile crept in.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Thomas said, also smiling. I looked back and forth between Lou and Thomas, shimmying my shoulders at Lou when Thomas wasn’t looking. Lou stared at the sky, exasperated. If they could dish it to me, I could dish it to them.

“Lou,” Thomas said. “Rígan and Maya use both ‘he’ and ‘they’ for you. You use both?”

“Interchangeably. Use whatever comes to you first, but make sure you don’t only use one.”

“Thank you,” Thomas said. “He, by the way. For myself.”

“She for me,” I said.

“Same,” Maya said.

Lou patted Aonbar’s neck. “I suppose we could have had this exchange when we met this morning, but these four-legged friends were rather distracting.”

Thomas laughed. “That’s only fair.”

After a night of sleeping under the stars, we stopped for our second night at a small village about halfway to the Keep. It had little more than a handful of houses, yet its combined tavern and inn, sitting on the corner of a main crossroad, seemed to do well for itself, even with the Exile threat looming. It was a good stop between the capital and multiple destinations around the island, meaning the bar kept churning out drinks and the beds were always occupied. We were unlucky enough to arrive when the latter proved all too true, but the owners were kind enough to let us stay in the stables out back. I wasn’t excited about sleeping on hay, but it was better than nothing.

“We should use this to our advantage.” Lou pulled the saddle off Aonbar in the stall next to Dove’s. “People like to talk in taverns. Especially when they’ve had a few pints. And it’s one of the main stops for those traveling this half of the country. Who knows what we can learn about the Exiles and rebels at a place like this.”

“I should let the three of you focus on gathering intel,” Thomas said. “If anything happens, I’ll need to leave at a moment’s notice.”

He’d already apologized for not being more than a runner and lookout. Twice. The apologies seemed to have been as much for himself as for us.

“You should be in the tavern with us, at least for a little while,” I said. “Not joining us might raise suspicions.” It was the truth, but I still prided myself on the way he perked up. “Besides, you’re clearly not a stable boy.” He’d forgone his royal guard uniform, but he evidently had a good salary. The fabrics were all good quality, and while his hands were calloused, they weren’t laced with permanent dirt and grime. Posing as a fellow sellsword was much more doable.

“Come have a round with us, then excuse yourself early and act as lookout,” Lou said.

“Your departure will also be a good excuse for us to get up and mingle,” Maya said. “We might attract some patrons before that, but we’ll likely have to get into the thick of it to learn what we can.”

“Agreed.” I swept my hair into a ponytail. Maya tucked a thick, wavy strand I’d missed behind my ear. I glanced down at my shirt. Undoing a couple laces would probably be a good tactic. Thomas raised a brow once I’d finished, the other two keeping about their business.

“Sometimes it takes a glimpse of a pretty woman before people will open up,” I explained.

Maya adjusted her own shirt, which clung to more prominent curves than mine. “Sad, but true.”

Thomas’s hazel eyes widened a touch. “You plan on flirting with rebels to loosen their tongues?”

“Maybe not in the Keep, but here? I plan on flirting with whoever needs to be flirted with. But I’m adaptable.” I winked, making him blush. It was cute. And it didn’t hurt my point.

The tavern was larger than I would have expected for a village this size, though I supposed it was a good thing given how many patrons it attracted. The windows were large, the sun hovering just above the frames and bouncing off various glasses and cutlery cluttering the tables. Roasting meat and vegetables floated out from a kitchen somewhere off to the side, and a set of stairs led up to the rooms. I stuck my tongue out in their general direction, giving them a piece of my mind for being occupied. We grabbed drinks from the barmaid and chose a table away from the windows, despite my desire to lounge by them—if we did draw attention, we didn’t need anyone walking by to notice.

Away from Dàibhid, the reality of the job sank in. I was in my element, untethered to the worries I’d built up since his summons. And away from the capital, I realized how built up I’d become. I shook my shoulders loose, falling into an easier, casual stance. Everyone else was having a good time here, anyway. It fit with the role.

I surveyed the room while we pretended to chat, Lou telling a story they’d shared countless times. It became background noise. There were fifteen others in the room, all taking advantage of the delicious-smelling dinner being served. Our own plates were set down in front of us, and I took a moment to appreciate the juicy chicken, roasted carrots, and herbed potatoes. Dinner hour was drawing to a close, though, prompting some patrons to head upstairs for an early bedtime, others to enter the tavern ready for a night of drinking. The former would be unhelpful; if we engaged them now, they’d only brush us off to get upstairs. The latter we could work with.

I took my time assessing potential targets. One woman, broad shouldered with short dark hair and a scar running jagged across her pink temple, shot me a poisonous look when I glanced her way. It got under my skin, presenting a challenge. It morphed into a warning when she tightened her hold on her dinner knife. Definitely wouldn’t be approaching her.

But there. Two men, tucked into a corner. They lounged in their chairs, lazily holding glasses filled with amber liquid. Swords lay beside them, coin purses on their hips. Sellswords like us?

One of them met my eye before taking in my appearance. His answering smile was lazier than the grip on his drink. Perfect.

After Thomas excused himself, Lou, Maya, and I split off to our chosen targets. The one man looked up again at my approach, smile returning to brighten his light olive face. I gave him one of my own, slow and suggestive. He took note of my sword.

“You one of us?” he asked. Still unknown, but I could pretend, anyway.

“That I am. May I?” I motioned to the seat beside him.

“By all means. Happy to entertain a fellow sellsword, especially one as stunning as you.”

So they were sellswords. Perfect.

The other’s face came into view as I sat. I restrained myself from recoiling, thanking the gods I was sitting next to the one who didn’t make my skin crawl. Where the man beside me had kind eyes, a deep blue that reminded me of the Frigid Sea, and an approachable countenance despite the abundance of lean muscle mass, his companion did not. His gray eyes, set in a pale, thin face, roamed over me with a hunger that bordered intrusive. I wanted to do up my strategically undone laces. Or punch him. His smile could only be described as sleazy. It was all wrapped up in something that could have otherwise been attractive.

Those were some of the worst ones.

I leaned on an elbow to give the kind one a better view—and to gain an inch more separation from the other. It also made it easy to grab my sword if either of them tried anything.

After Sleazy called for another round of drinks, I asked, “What might you two be doing here?”

“Looking for work,” Sleazy said.

“You know how it is,” Nice Smile said.

“That I do.” I stroked my scabbard for good measure. Nice Smile practically drooled. “Know of any around here?”

Sleazy scoffed before redoubling his staring. I fought another recoil.

“Don’t mind Fenton,” Nice Smile said. “Doesn’t seem to be any work around here, unfortunately.”

“If only jobs could fall in our laps.” I sighed, lowering my gaze. I’d focus more on this one and leave Fenton to his fantasies. Ones I’d likely want to scrub from my brain.

The barmaid placed drinks before us, and Fenton’s attention wandered to her with the same intrusive hunger. Disgusting.

“If only,” Nice Smile said, respectfully curious rather than intrusive.

I drew my finger in a slow circle around the rim of my mug, a high-pitched hum reverberating. Nice Smile licked his lips, and my gut tightened in a warm, pleasant way.

Gods, if I didn’t have a job to do right now . . . It wasn’t like Nial and I were exclusive, let alone in a relationship . . .

I snapped myself out of it. Not the time. We were here for intel, not rolling in the hay. “Is this the first place you’ve looked—I’m sorry, I didn’t grab your name?”

“Landon.” He moved his hand like he was going to take mine and kiss it, which I wouldn’t have minded, but he noted my sword and thought better of it, his hand floating to the table. So, he was smart.

A laugh echoed across the bar. Maya had managed to get a group on her side, one of the women seated flirtatiously close. Looked like Maya had taken the same tactic as me. Lou focused on a group of what looked like tradespeople. He’d likely have decent luck with that crowd, if only for common interests. Lou wasn’t quite as good at manipulating as Maya was, and nowhere near as good as I could be.

“I don’t believe I caught yours?” Landon said.

“Nemain.” I extended my hand. Like I’d expected, he kissed it. His lips were so soft, I wanted to melt. Why did I have to be on assignment?

“And no,” he said. “This isn’t the first place we’ve looked.”

I waited for more, but none came. Was that it, or was he withholding something?

My gut told me it was the latter.

I leaned back in my chair to give an air of openness. “I’ve just come from the south. Attempted to find a lord who was hiring, maybe do some property guarding, but no such luck.”

Landon took the hint, placing his arm on the back of my chair, getting comfortable. Fenton’s brows puckered like a jealous child. I could play into that, get him to divulge information to try to impress me. I snuggled closer to Landon.

“Perhaps the next place you look will be better,” he said. “Perhaps it will even be the same place as me.”

I gave a light sound of approval. Landon hadn’t commented on the south. Had they come from the south and hadn’t been lucky? Or had they tried elsewhere?

“Now wouldn’t that be lovely,” I said, barely more than a whisper, like we were sharing secrets. “Where are you going next?”

Landon’s smile was dazzling. It made me wonder how much he was playing me . “Haven’t decided yet.”

“Well then how are we supposed to end up in the same place?” I spared a glance at Fenton before staring into the depths of Landon’s eyes and placing a hand on his arm. “What if you decide to go south even knowing I had no luck?”

Fenton snorted.

I raised an eyebrow, hand still on Landon’s arm. I waited, letting Fenton think he was controlling this little bit of the conversation rather than bait him further.

After a moment, he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Any sellsword worth their weight knows the south isn’t profitable right now. It’s hit and miss.” Fenton’s words were sharp, as though he was talking to someone who wasn’t intelligent enough to grasp the concept of what he was saying. Then he remembered he was trying to impress me, draw me away from Landon. He smoothed down his black hair and spoke more calmly. “We’ve heard the Keep is remarkably competitive right now.”

“Is that so?” This was good. But if the Keep was competitive, it might pose a problem to our mission.

Fenton leaned in. “The Exiles are growing in number up there.” Landon stiffened. “The rebels too. It’s more than just the Keep that could be ripe with work. The northern coast as a whole holds the best chance.”

“And you’re certain the Exiles are in the north?”

“Where else would they be? Doaríc is there, isn’t it?”

I resisted the impulse to call out his condescending tone. It was what Dàibhid believed, too. There were more attacks in the north than the south, after all.

Fenton took a swig of ale. “The people will want protection.”

Landon shifted in his seat, a frown creasing his features. “Fenton,” he said in warning.

“What?” Fenton cut a glare at his companion. “What if she wants in?”

Landon’s ever-stiffening posture made my own shoulders strain to tighten, but I remained outwardly at ease, curious. I had to make Fenton believe I was on board with whatever he had in mind, even if his companion wasn’t. “In on what?”

Landon huffed. “Fenton and I are in a bit of a disagreement about what kind of work we should go after, and I’m not even sure I want in.”

“It’s the wise decision.” Fenton turned to me. “We start with the guards of whatever city we go to.” He shot Landon a look, like that was a concession Fenton had given him. “And if we can’t find anything with them, we look for anyone who wants personal protection.”

Didn’t sound like a horrible plan to me. But then what was Landon’s reaction about?

“With Doaríc so close and all the talk of rebel numbers growing, every northerner will be desperate,” Fenton said. The way he said it, full of greed, raised my alarms. “People who are desperate are willing to pay anything. And if we can’t find someone rich, we’ll find someone willing to take us on, anyway.”

I finally allowed my shoulders to tense as Fenton’s words sank in. I tried to keep my expression neutral, though if he was implying what I thought he was, it made the task twice as hard. His smirk grew the longer I looked at him, mistaking my expression for approval.

“Might not be a pretty penny, but that desperation could sweeten the pot,” he added. “Maybe get one or two priceless heirlooms for our troubles.”

My gaze darkened as my suspicions were confirmed. Fenton snapped back at the look.

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You want to extort money out of people who are scared for their lives? Even if they can’t afford it?”

“See why I’m hesitant?” Landon said.

“Sleazy” had been an understatement. Fenton needed a new word invented to describe his underhanded, conniving, thieving ass.

“It’s the smart move!” Fenton said.

“It’s the cruel, apathetic move,” I shot back.

A few people turned toward us. Maya shot me a look from across the room. I must have raised my voice.

“You’d be taking advantage of innocent, scared people,” I said, lowering my voice. “Only pieces of human garbage think like that.”

“We have to make a living—”

“We have to keep people safe, and wringing them dry is not keeping them safe. Not unless you plan on using your money to feed and clothe them, and get them to safety if it comes to that.” I scowled deeper at his silence. “I didn’t think so.”

I trembled. Leaving the table—leaving the tavern —was my best course of action. I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t blow up in Fenton’s face again, drawing too much attention and making us memorable to everyone in the tavern. I didn’t think I was close to getting anything of use from them, anyway.

I turned to Landon before rising. “You seem like a decent man. Do the decent thing.”

Landon sagged, like I’d given him permission. Good. Maybe he wouldn’t follow Fenton in this.

I almost bumped into someone on my way out, barely paying attention to my surroundings as the trembling persisted. I knew sellswords like Fenton existed, but it was another speaking to one. Half the reason I’d become a sellsword was to help others, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. My opinion of Fenton had, miraculously, dropped further than I could have thought possible upon meeting him.

Outside the stables, the stars winking through clouds, I threw myself onto a crate beside Thomas. He caught my eye, and I shook my head. More of my anger needed to dissipate before I could consider having a conversation. All-consuming heat still shot through me, the tips of my ears burning with it despite the evening air. If Thomas noticed, he didn’t say anything. He did, however, offer me an apple from his saddlebag. The gesture cooled a little of the heat.

It wasn’t long before Maya and Lou joined us, and we headed into the stables for the night.

“Anything?” I asked, more levelheaded now. Thomas’s presence was soothing, and quiet time with him had done me good. Stroking Dove didn’t hurt, either.

Maya set to giving Chestnut some love. “Nothing on my end.”

“Some on mine,” Lou said. “Seems like there might still be Exiles in the north, but it’s mostly speculation. Could be worth looking into. A cobbler I talked to thought they saw some going into the Keep a few weeks ago, but he wasn’t certain. Still, that’s as close to confirmation as we’ve gotten.”

Despite anticipating it for the last few days, imagining what the next leg of our journey might look like with Exiles at the end of it sparked a dark curiosity. “Great find, Lou.”

“I try. You?”

“Similar. The north seems to be where the most trouble is brewing. The south is hit and miss for jobs as usual. And the Keep is possibly competitive right now.”

Lou raised a brow. My tone was sharper than I’d intended, thanks to Fenton’s slimy countenance creeping back into my brain. Everything in me was tightening. I breathed it out.

“I’ll tell you later,” I said. “I don’t need to get all angry again before sleeping.”

Lou nodded, and we each went to our own piles of hay. Maya soon crept on to mine, trying to fend off some of the night’s chill. Thomas stayed up, taking first watch.

Hours later, bladder near bursting, I headed outside, motioning for Lou, our third watch, to go to sleep; I’d take over in a moment.

Before I could make it back to the door, I was jerked backward.

Someone’s hand was around my throat.