“Grip them both like your life depends on it,” Kurtz said, “because one day, it will.”
Cole had no worry for his own life. But should Kurtz be hurt worse next time because of Cole’s weakness…He couldn’t bear being a liability to anyone.
He had barely taken his position across from Derby when a small man in a farmer’s hat trudged toward them.
“Finally!” the man said.
Something in the timbre of his voice gave Cole pause.
The farmer sighed deeply, as if he found them all horribly tedious, and set his hands on his hips. “Six different men said, ‘They’re right over there,’ yet all six pointed in a different direction.”
Kurtz frowned. “Are you lost?”
“I’m not now.” The farmer swept off his hat, which revealed he was not a farmer at all, nor a man. “Hello, Cole.”
The blood drained from Cole’s face as he took in the woman standing before him. Ginger hair trapped in a knot atop her head, freckles as numerous as ever, pink lips twisted into a smirk, and those green eyes pinned on him.
Mistel Wepp had followed them from Armonguard, and—blazes!—even in trousers, she was stunning.
Chapter 4
Mistel
Maybe barging up on Cole while he was crossing swords hadn’t been Mistel’s best idea. She kept smiling, pretending all was going to plan.
His flushed cheeks and sweat-damp hair suited him. She rather liked the warrior look.
“Wha-what are you…? Where did…? How can…? Mistel?”
Mercy. The boy could barely speak. “Glad to see me, are you, my knightling?”
His brow wrinkled as his gaze traveled down her tunic to her trousered legs and stopped at the men’s work boots on her feet. His freckled cheeks darkened another shade.
“No,” Kurtz snapped. “This is no good, it’s not. You can’t be here.”
Mistel arced an eyebrow at Kurtz, whose fierce expression wilted under her stare. “Master Chazir,” she said. “How nice to see you again.” She glanced at the third man, who looked closer to Cole’s age. “Since these two have completely forgotten their manners, I suppose I must introduce myself. I’m Mistel Wepp, Cole’s cousin, and a member of his band.”
Cole’s eyebrows shot up.
The third man bowed politely. “Pleased to know you, Miss Wepp. I’m Derby Wenk.”
My, but Master Wenk had the reddest ears she’d ever seen. Or perhaps that was simply from the exercise and cold. “Apologies for interrupting this riveting exhibition of masculine prowess,” she said, “but I really need to speak with Cole. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Master Wenk said.
“Thanks for the practice, Derby,” Cole said.
“I can see you have your hands full.” Master Wenk bowed again. “Good day, Miss Wepp.”
“Mm-hm.” As the young man walked off, Mistel turned her attention to Cole. “I thought it was high time you knew I was here.”
“You followed us from Armonguard,” Cole said.
Mistel gave him her widest smile. “I did.”
“On foot?” Cole asked.
At that, she winced. No point fibbing. He’d find out eventually. “No, I borrowed Bart.”
