On her way back to her room, Tariel passed through the common area, where several travelers were already up, sipping coffee and talking quietly. The aroma of the strong brew called to Tariel, and she ordered a cup for herself, then curled up in a chair near the fire towait.
“I think we’ll pay a visit to the shrine before we go,” one of the men said to his companion. “With all these bandits about, we need all the protection we canget.”
“Bah,” the other man said. “The people in this area have clearly angered Sokolan, so I doubt he would listen to us. If he was watching over this area, would traders have to fear for their lives every time they crossed the borderhere?”
As the men discussed their cargo and travel plans in low voices, Tariel noticed a maid skulking in the shadows nearby, listening. She had a rag in her hand, but she only pretended to clean—Tariel had done the same thing on more than one occasion back at Castle Tyrook when she was eavesdropping. Could she be a spy for the bandits? A chill ran down her spine at the thought. If she were Lord Traize, who seemed to make a portion of his coin by robbing travelers, she would have installed someone at the inn to scout possibletargets.
The maid met her gaze, and Tariel gave her a bland smile. But the girl’s eyes narrowed, as if she knew Tariel’s thoughts. She was about to rise from her chair to go question the girl with her magic when the serving woman came back with hercoffee.
“Here you are,” she said, handing Tariel the thick ceramic mug. “With cream and sugar, just as youasked.”
“Perfect.” Tariel paid the woman, then took a sip of the coffee, which was rich and bold. She had never tasted the brew herself—Fjordlanders scorned coffee as a general rule. But Lady Tyrook had kept a small supply for special occasions, and the scent had always enticed Tariel. That she could drink it freely now, without judgment from any of the others, made her nearlygiddy.
When the serving woman moved out of the way, the maid had made herself scarce. She wondered if the girl had gotten all the information she needed, or if she had left because of Tariel’s scrutiny. Either way, Tariel decided that it would be best to move on before the girl becamesuspicious.
“By the gods,” Yarim croaked as she walked into the room. “Is thatcoffee?”
“Yes.” Tariel smiled as he sat up. The sheet slid off him, exposing his muscled torso and warm skin, which was a few shades darker than the creamy liquid in her mug. “Would you likesome?”
She held out her mug, and he took it, wrinkling his nose. “Why would you ruin it with all this cream and sugar?” he complained as he took a sip. “Good coffee is meant to be enjoyed as itis.”
Tariel shrugged. “Lady Tyrook always put cream and sugar in hers, so I did thesame.”
“Her coffee must not have been any good then,” Yarim declared. He frowned as he looked into the mug. “But then again, this doesn’t taste very good, so you’re likely better off covering it up like thisanyway.”
“Who knew you were a coffee snob?” Calrain asked, reaching over to pluck the mug out of Yarim’s hands. He took a sip, and an expression of bliss slid over his face. “Ohhh, this isdelicious.”
“At least Calrain has the good sense to appreciate it,” Tariel said dryly, but she was amused. “I suppose you’ll have to show us whatrealcoffee looks like when we get to the Empire,Yarim.”
“With pleasure,” he agreed, standing up. Tariel was briefly tempted to run a hand down his muscular thigh, but they needed to get going, so she sat in the corner and watched them dress while she told them about what she’d learneddownstairs.
“I’m not surprised that the bandits have a spy here,” Calrain said when she was finished. “It’s what I would do. But I doubt you need to worry about that maid—she has no reason to think that you are anything other than what youappear.”
“It’s a good thing I used my illusion magic,” Tariel said ruefully. “I have no doubt that some of these men would recognize me from Queen Relissa’s wanted posters. And with the bounty on my head, they might decide it is more lucrative to capture me than to take their goods into Carliss totrade.”
Yarim looked grim at that. “We had best not overstay our welcome, then. We’ll eat a quick breakfast, then head for thepass.”
They did as Yarim said, then saddled their horses and mounted up. As they left the stables, Tariel noted that a number of merchants were headed west, and remembered the conversation about theshrine.
“Who is Sokolan?” she asked Yarim. “Is he some kind of travelergod?”
“He is the god of trade,” Yarim explained, “sacred to all merchants. It would make sense to have a shrine to him near here, since so many pass through thisarea.”
Tariel was tempted to go check out this shrine for herself, but she was certain there would be larger ones in Salanis, Carliss’s capital, and did not want to waste time. With their bellies full and their heads clear, they set out for Traize Valley, which they knew from talking to the miller was only half a day’s ride fromhere.
The majority of the ride was fairly uneventful—as usual, the few locals they passed mostly ignored them, and this time, Tariel did not attempt to engage them in conversation. But just as they exited yet another patch of thickly wooded land, Tariel’s spine prickled withwarning.
“Back into the trees,” she ordered, pulling on her horse’s reins. The others gave her startled glances as they retreated behind the cover of thetrees.
“What is it?” Yarim whispered, but Tariel did not need to answer. Two bandits appeared at the top of a hill, less than ten yards from their position. They wore the same colors as the bandits they had killed, and they looked sharp and alert as they rode down the hill, almost as if they were looking forsomeone.
“D’you think Maril was telling the truth about that witch?” one of them asked as they drew closer to Tariel’s hiding spot. “Or was he just blowing smoke up Lord Traize’s arse to hide how much of a bloody failure heis?”
The other bandit shrugged. “I could think of a dozen other lies that would make far more sense than this witch business. If what he said is really true, that they were all killed by only four people, then I can’t see how they would have done it without awitch.”
“Blast it,” Calrain growled under his breath. “They know aboutus.”
“Do you think they know that Riann is one of us?” Tariel asked, her blood pulsing with fear. She rubbed her clammy palms against her thighs, her body taut as a bowstring as the robbers passed directly bythem.
