“The reason we wanted you here and the reason I came to keep you company at a hospital. Originally they wanted me to try to get a position here so I was already well placed, but they weren’t looking for any new healers. Now watch.” He pointed out the window to where a small caravan was coming down the road, consisting of only a few wagons and a single carriage, all being pulled by some rather tired-looking horses.
As I watched, more than a dozen masked men burst from the woods. They shot arrows, met sword against sword with the guards, and began raiding the wagons. One of the masked men, who looked suspiciously like Roderick, pulled someone from the carriage, kneed him in the stomach, then threw him to the ground.
Shouts came as the guards fought back, finally breaking through and driving them back into the woods. Two of themasked robbers fled with a single wooden crate, leaving the caravan behind.
“And now the good part,” Lochlan murmured, rubbing his hands together.
I watched intently as the guards carried some of the injured caravan members to the hospital, calling for help. Soon, the building was filled with panicked cries of new patients, coupled with the hurried conversations of healers as they rushed past each other in the hallways.
The matron came in, bringing with her a young, broad-shouldered man with a cut across his forehead who was doubled over in pain, holding his stomach. “I need to double up patients in this room,” she explained, easing the man onto the empty bed and efficiently wrapping him in bandages.
“There’s nothing seriously wrong, but we’ll need to keep you for observation for at least a few hours while we check out the rest of your companions. This is Gil. Gil, this is Marco. Keep each other company for a bit, okay? I need to run.” She hurried out to handle the other patients, several of whom were crying out in pain.
“Hey,” Marco groaned, wincing as he put a hand up to his tanned face. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, with a shock of brown hair that was more tangled than curly.
“What happened to you?” Lochlan asked, sounding much more concerned than normal. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Marco ran his hands through his hair so it was even more tangled than before. “That was an important shipment and I’m in charge of the company now, so it’s going to look bad on me.”
“What were you importing?” Lochlan asked.
Marco wearily shook his head. “Honestly, I have no idea. They labeled it porridge; that’s all I know. Now it’s gone.” Hesighed and shook his head again. “This is going to cost the company a fortune.”
“Where did your shipment come from?” Lochlan pressed.
Marco stiffened. “Why the interest?”
Lochlan’s face knotted in concern and he shot me a worried expression. “Just trying to make conversation to keep everyone’s minds off their struggles.” He lowered his voice. “My cousin needs a distraction. He isn’t feeling well, and talking helps keep his mind off the pain.”
Marco’s face cleared a little. “I was hired by someone in Ebora to travel to one of the northernmost islands around Berkway. He said he’d pay quadruple. When I’m offered that much, I know not to ask too many questions. They said it was porridge and I didn’t challenge it.”
“Porridge?” I asked curiously.
Marco raised his hands. “Look, I’m just a merchant. When I’m asked to move goods for a fair price, I do it. End of story.”
“Who hired you?” Lochlan asked, his tone becoming more aggressive.
“That’s enough questions. If you haven’t noticed, I’m injured too.” Marco gently touched his head. “And I keep my business ventures private.”
“Let me rephrase.” In a moment, Lochlan had flipped out a knife and crossed to press the blade against Marco’s throat. “Tell me who hired you or I’ll kill you.”
Marco went pale and my stomach dropped. So much for the kind man who had helped Mable.
Lochlan grinned. “Not expecting an attack from inside the hospital, were you? That’s the first rule of defending yourself.Alwaysexpect an attack.” He pressed the blade closer. “Now, who hired you?”
“His name was Curdy,” Marco whispered. “Maybe in his mid-twenties, sandy blond hair.” He tried to pull away from the bladebut Lochlan followed him so the knife stayed pressed against his throat. “He’s living on an island in Rumrunner’s Bay. That’s all I know, I swear. He told me where to pick up the shipment and that he’d pay me upon delivery.” He’d nearly gone cross-eyed trying to keep the knife in focus.
Lochlan’s face lit up. “Thank you, Marco. You’ve been very helpful. Now, you won’t go telling anyone about this little incident, will you?”
Marco’s head quivered the tiniest amount from side to side.
“Liar,” Lochlan said with a grin, then he jerked his head at me. “This was all Gil’s idea, you know.”
In a few bounds, Lochlan was across the floor and out the window, along with whatever feelings I thought might be simmering for him.
The second Lochlan was out the window, Marco shouted for help and turned his furious gaze onto me. I scrambled out of bed. “I had no idea he was going to do that!” I said, hands up in defense.
Through the window, I saw Lochlan running full tilt toward Knorrwood Forest. He’d left me to take the fall for him.
