“Do you have friends there? Family who will surely be growing concerned for your welfare?”
It was all Aren could do not to roll his eyes at the obviousness of the man’s ploy, but he answered, “My family is all in Harendell, thank God. I’ll have time to think of a way to explain that I’ve lost all of their money.” He belched loudly. “Might take my time, then use the storms as an excuse not to go back for a year.”
Timin laughed before shouting at his men to start moving, the group striding out of the town and south toward Valcotta.
The air was swiftly turning cold, and Aren wondered how long that would be a blessing to Lara’s burned skin before it turned into a curse. She’d looked miserable and deeply unwell. And every time one of the merchants had gone near her, it had been a struggle not to pull a weapon and go to her defense.
“So serious, James.” Timin’s voice broke into Aren’s thoughts.
“Merely contemplating a week of walking.”
“Ah, yes. Perhaps this will help ease your mind.”
The merchant tried to pass Aren a bottle, but he held up his hands. “You’ve already been more than generous with the offer you have given for my camel. I couldn’t possibly take more.”
“Nonsense! The beast is of the best stock. It is I who am coming out ahead in our bargain.”
Pretending to waver, Aren finally accepted the bottle and feigned drinking deeply. “You are a true friend.”
They walked for close to an hour in the darkness, Timin singing the entire time while Aren pretended to drink, surreptitiously pouring the contents into the sand from time to time. He staggered frequently, colliding with the unamused Jack.
But he was stone-cold sober when he heard the blade being drawn behind him.
Turning, Aren regarded Timin, who held a long knife, his two partners flanking him. The younger one stood a distance back holding the camels’ leads, his expression terrified.
“Drop your beast’s lead,” Timin said. “Then lay down in the sand.”
“And here I thought we were friends.” Aren dropped Jack’s lead but remained on his feet.
The merchant lifted one shoulder. “What can I say? Business is business.”
“This seems much more like theft.”
The three men laughed and Timin said, “It is only theft if the individual suffering the loss is alive to report the crime.”
It was Aren’s turn to laugh. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Timin’s brow furrowed in confusion, which turned to panic as Aren jerked his sword free from Jack’s pack, attacking the men before they had a chance to react. He opened Timin’s guts, then turned on the other pair, cutting them down mercilessly. In his periphery, he saw the boy drop the camel’s leads and start to run, but Aren was after him in a flash.
Taller and stronger, he caught the boy easily, tackling him into the sand.
“Please,” the boy wept. “Please, have mercy. I didn’t know what they intended to do.”
Likely a lie, but Aren wasn’t in the practice of killing children. “I’m not going to kill you, but I’m afraid I need to keep you quiet until I’m well on my way.”
Gagging the boy, then binding his wrists to his ankles, Aren left him near the camels, which he’d hobbled and staked to the ground. Then a groan of pain caught his attention.
With one arm cradling his innards, Timin was crawling toward the oasis. Following, Aren kicked him in the ribs, flipping him onto his back even as the man screamed for help.
“We’re too far away for anyone to hear.” Aren dropped on one knee next to the dying man. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”
“Who are you?” Timin’s words were strained. “What sort of demon are you?”
“The sort who’s had his fill of backstabbing pricks,” Aren replied before sliding his blade across the man’s throat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get my wife back.”
35
Lara
Lean forward.
Lean backward.
Lean left.
Lean right.
Lara repeated the chant in her head, forcing her body to comply even though exhaustion and exposure were taking their toll. Her skin burned hot in the places the sun had scorched it, but the rest of her was freezing, her body wracked with shivers. She was thirsty, her stomach twisted with cramps, and her head throbbed. If she didn’t escape tonight, the only escape would be death.
Lean forward.
Lean backward.
The pillory was set into the ground, but not deeply enough. The big man’s weight had loosened it so that with hours of work on her part, it should’ve been easy to lift free. Except she’d discovered that she was too weak to do so. Her only option was to keep working to destabilize the damned thing, then try to tip it over, hopefully not breaking her neck in the process.
The market was busy with people going about the business of buying and selling goods, a large caravan having arrived from Maridrina shortly after sunset. Interest in her had fortunately diminished, though men and women both took the time to spit or throw sand at her as they passed. Lara didn’t much care what they tossed at her as long as none of them noticed what she was up to.
The Maridrinian tavern was bustling, dozens of men sitting outside at the little tables, drinking and laughing, some with their heads bent close as they discussed business. It was loud, made louder still by a pair of musicians playing drums. A dancer who likely moonlighted as a prostitute swayed seductively on top of a platform that had been set up for her. For that reason, it took several moments for the crowd to notice her large captor slumping to the ground in front of the building, foam pouring from his mouth.
There were shouts of alarm, then two more men slumped off the sides of their chairs, exhibiting the same symptoms.
“Poison! They’ve been poisoned,” someone shrieked, and the whole market turned into chaos, the patrons of the tavern shoving away glasses and bottles, eyes wide with horror.
This was her chance.
Getting her legs underneath her, Lara pushed, feet scrabbling in the sand. Her back screamed in agony, but slowly, the pillory toppled forward, pulling her with it. She tried to slow the fall of the frame, but it was wasted effort. Her body flipped upright, her ass in the air as the top of her head hit the sand hard enough that she saw stars. The opening encircling her neck slammed down against her chin, pressing hard against her throat. But she’d heard the latch flip open.
Digging the tips of her toes into the ground, she tried to push the top piece of the pillory loose to free herself. But it was wedged in the sand.
And she couldn’t breathe.
Desperation filling her, she tried to pull the whole mess of wood backward and out of the sand, but she couldn’t get the leverage.
If she didn’t get out soon, she was going to pass out. And if no one noticed her, she’d be dead, strangled and crushed by her own faulty plan.
Catching a toe in one of the holes in the ground, Lara pulled, the bones in her wrists grinding against the wood, muscles trembling.
The frame shifted, and she felt the top piece loosen, freeing her wrists and neck.
She’d done it!
“That wasn’t your most graceful maneuver,” a familiar voice hissed, then hands were grasping her arms, pulling her upright. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your damned neck.”