18
Tariel and her men spent the next few hours riding in silence along the main road, heading south toward the capital, where they hoped to eventually meet up with Lord Raffis, collect their reward, and finally purchase safe passage to theEmpire.
Tariel knew she should feel hopeful, even optimistic, now that the worst of the trip seemed to be behind them. After all, they had evaded Sir Jerrold, made it past the Carlissian border, and rescued Riann. But a tension-filled silence had descended upon their group, and it had everything to do with the newest member of their travelingparty.
Temporary member, Tariel reminded herself, sneaking a glance at Wellion. He rode behind the rest of them, with Riann at his side. Her golden knight had taken it upon himself to keep the former bandit company, which struck Tariel as rather strange. After all, Wellion was the one who had kidnapped him and forced him into servitude. Even if hehadhelped her rescue Riann, that rescue would never have been needed if not forWellion.
And yet, there was a clear bond between Riann and Wellion, almost as if they were friends. Perhaps they had become allies during their time together. There was no doubt Riann’s time with the bandits had changed him—before, he would never have entertained the idea of befriending abandit.
And neither wouldTariel.
What has gotten into me?she wondered, turning her attention back to the road. Days ago, she had declared all bandits to be the scourge of the earth, and had ordered her men to kill them all and show no mercy. And yet here she was, allowing one to walk amongstthem.
“Tariel,” Calrain said, excitement brightening his voice. She pulled herself from her thoughts to look in the direction he pointed. “There’s a town upahead!”
“So there is,” she said, a smile coming to her lips. Less than a mile away, just a short distance from the road, sat a provincial town. It was a modest size compared to Kalsing, maybe large enough for three hundred people, with small houses and some largerbuildings.
“I bet there is an inn there,” Yarim said, sounding more cheerful than he had in hours. “We should stop there for the night, and perhaps stock up on supplies. I’d rather not sleep on the hard ground tonight since we no longer have ourbedrolls.”
“And I’d rather not draw undue attention to ourselves merely on account of your pampered arse,” Wellion interjected before Tariel could answer. He folded his arms across his broad chest as everyone turned to look at him. “We are four strapping young men—well, three and a beanpole”—he amended, and Calrain scowled at him—“traveling with one stunningly beautiful woman. We are bound to attract all sorts ofattention.”
A little thrill shot through Tariel’s veins at the compliment, which she did her best to ignore. “So long as you don’t steal anything from the establishment, we should be just fine,” Yarim sneered. “Do you think you can keep your light-fingered hands to yourself,bandit?”
“I’m not sure,” Wellion said mockingly. “You might want to sleep with one eye open. If you aren’t careful, I might pluck what little intelligence you have right out of yourbrain.”
Yarim snarled, twisting in his saddle, but before he could respond, Zolotais materialized in front of him. “The newcomer is right,” she said to Tariel, ignoring Yarim. “At the very least, you should provide disguises foreveryone.”
Tariel cocked her head, studying Wellion. “Would you prefer to be a man or awoman?”
“What kind of question isthat?”
“Woman it is, then.” She waved her hand, and the others snickered as she spun an illusion. In seconds, the tall, strapping, chestnut-haired man had been replaced by a buxom redhead in a tight dress. “You can be my cousin. I think Yarim will make you a finehusband.”
Yarim abruptly stopped snickering. “Now wait just a minute—” he protested, but Tariel was already spinning another illusion. She gave Yarim another two inches of height, lightened his skin, and changed his striking violet eyes into a more mundaneblue.
“This is uncalled for,” Yarim said between clenchedteeth.
“And so is your continued rudeness,” Tariel replied. She might have her own misgivings about allowing Wellion to accompany them, but she would be damned if she, or any of her men, would treat him with anything less than basic respect. He was, after all, still a human being. And he had spared her life when he could have easily killedher.
Ignoring Yarim, she turned her attention to Riann and Calrain, making minor adjustments to the former’s coloring and features, and turning Calrain into a young boy. As for herself, she lightened her coloring and changed her eyes to a dull shade of brown. When she was satisfied they all looked acceptably different, she allowed Riann and Yarim to take the lead, and dropped back to speak toWellion.
“You seem determined to make my men hate you,” she said in a lowvoice.
“It doesn’t seem very difficult to do,” Wellion saidmildly.
Tariel frowned at him. “I see what you are trying to do. You insult people to keep them at arm’s length from you, so you won’t gethurt.”
Wellion’s frosted eyes flickered briefly, their color unchanged by the spell. “Don’t make me out to be some soft-hearted fool hiding behind a brash façade,” he said shortly. “I am what Iam.”
“And what is that?” Tariel challenged him. “The son of a bandit, destined to follow in his father’s depraved footsteps? Or are you your own man, willing to adapt and change, to make your own choices and choose the rightpath?”
“And you think you know the right path for me?” Wellion mocked. “Trust me, princess, you know nothing aboutme.”
“I am no princess,” sheprotested.
“You certainly act like one,” Wellion said. “A natural leader, able to inspire such devout loyalty in your men that they allow you to cuckold them.” His tone was scathing, but there was also something like reluctant admiration in hisvoice.
Tariel clenched her fist, resisting the urge to slap him across his pretty face. “It is not like that,” she said through gritted teeth. “I love all my menequally.”
