As they neared the Grand Market with its fluttering pennant flags of all colors of the rainbow, a thin man stepped out and blocked Valenden’s horse.
Valenden rested a hand on his sword. “Can I help you, sir?”
The man kept his eyes on Bryn’s hair as he asked, “Coming from the Mirien?”
“Our business is our own,” Valenden responded.
The man expertly took in the details of their clothes and horses. “Shame about the missing princess, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Valenden said.
The man shifted from one foot to another, never taking his eyes off Bryn. “Lady Bryn Lindane. Captured by Baer princes. They say all three brothers take their turns with her.”
Bryn couldn’t help but flinch, and the man gave a darkly satisfied smile.
Valenden shoved his boot against the man’s chest, causing him to stumble away. “Don’t speak ill of ladies,” he said, “orBaerprinces. I hear the middle one likes to cut the lips off stray men in the street who slander him.”
The man held up his hands, cackling slightly as he backed up, then turned and ran.
“You practically gave yourself away,” Bryn hissed. “And me.”
“That’s the point, darling. We want rumors to spread, and that vagrant will do the job for us nicely.”
Just the same, it made Bryn anxious.
They continued to ride, and now she was more aware of the looks from travelers and vendors. She saw vendors whispering to one another then throwing her stares. She could only imagine what they were saying.
That’s the captive princess.
She’s with the middle Baer prince.
Once they reached the Grand Market, she was sweating and flushed from nerves. Valenden dismounted, tied their horses to hitching posts, and then helped her down.
As she slid into his arms, she hung onto him for an extra moment and admitted in a whisper, “I can’t say I’m not afraid, Val. For the both of us.”
Valenden wrapped a hand around her waist as he glanced around the Grand Market square. “I recognize a few of Duke Dryden’s bandits in the crowd. They’re at the vendor stall with all the bird cages. And a few more at the alehouse across the street.”
He gave a slight nod to the disguised bandits.
Bryn hunted through the crowd to find the men. Though she didn’t recognize them without their masks, they gave her and Valenden a slight nod.
“So what now?” Bryn asked.
“We make a scene, but not until some Mir soldiers are around to witness it.”
“And until then?”
Valenden shrugged slyly. “Well, that alehouseisa convenient place to wait. It would be irresponsible not to go where we have allies. We’ll have a few pints to blend in.”
She rolled her eyes—of course, he’d choose a place where he could drink. “Fine. Lead the way.”
They crossed the square beneath the fluttering pennants. Bryn would have been utterly fascinated by the Grand Market with its canvas roofing and hundreds of trading stalls if she wasn’t so afraid for her life.
They took seats in an outdoor seating area of the Hound’s Hunt pub. After the waitress served them, another woman brushed into them. She was dressed scantly with her hair loose, and she gave them a lurid smile.
“Take care, lovebirds,” she purred. “I have my eye on you. And so do myfriends.” She glanced back pointedly at the duke’s men, who were disguised as traders, along with another female bandit dressed as a prostitute. Then the woman dropped her voice. “We’ll be ready at your signal.”
Valenden nodded and tossed her a few coins as though their transaction was over. Bryn sipped her beer slowly, watching him polish off three pints. They pretended to talk about the weather as they watched street performers out of the corner of their eyes. Eventually, Valenden placed his hand over hers.
