Page 31

I clench my hands into fists again and try to power through the drowning sensation in my chest. All the while, I sense Esme’s eyes weighing on my shoulders. I should address the dragon in the room and talk about killing all those men. But gods below, I do not want to listen to another woman lecturing me about how I don’t need to kill in order to protect. Esme seems like the kind of woman who would do just that.

“Agnar.” Her voice is soft and controlled, like she’s afraid to startle me.

Her face pales as she stares past my shoulder.

I spin, grabbing for my sword and the earth at the entrance of the fake cave, at whatever I’ll need to keep her safe.

A small throng of people huddles in the gathering dark near the tree line with baggage strapped to their bodies. They’re not right on top of us yet, but near enough to be a problem if they decide to attack.

Lined up so they’ll be easy to cut down if necessary.

I shift my weight to position myself between Esme and whoever the hells these people are.

A child whispers. If it’s possible to relax and tense at the same time, that’s what I do. Kids shouldn’t be out here, and the fact that they are fills me with uneasiness for several reasons. On the other hand, a group with children is less likely to pose any actual danger to us.

I squint at them and realize what I took for baggage on the closest man is actually a ragged kid clutching his leg.

A woman’s voice carries across the distance. “We don’t want trouble.”

I don’t lower my blade, but I try to sense how many people make up their group. Their feet are too close together, and they shuffle around each other, muddling things. “Then leave.”

“We saw what happened. Back on the road.” The man pushes the child clinging to his leg behind him, revealing a second child. “We’re not here to fight.”

They saw me slaughter twelve men like it was nothing and still approached? Did the children witness this too? That would explain why they’re cowering behind the adults. What’s wrong with these people? They need to get these kids someplace safe and far away from me. They should all be running.

The man in the lead only has one arm, so he can’t be wielding a secret weapon like I initially believed. Everything about him screams military, though. If he’s reached thirty, I’ll eat my boots. He’s twenty-five at most, but as he gravitates toward us, the shadows in his eyes tell me he’s experienced more horrors than someone twice his age.

A young woman hovers behind him, holding a toddler on her back like the precious cargo he is. Bruises line the undersides of her eyes, the hollowed-out look of someone who hasn’t slept in days.

An old man with a healer’s satchel slung across his body hobbles forward using a cane but keeps his back straight. A boy and a girl older than the toddler, maybe ten and twelve, cling to each other like shipwreck survivors. All wide eyes and trembling hands.

An ancient grandmother, her hair white as clouds, hangs back, her feet already pointed away and ready to flee. This poor woman should be sitting by a warm fire sharing stories, not stumbling through the wilderness with a pack of refugees.

Six people, seven counting the toddler, all regard me like I’m their savior instead of the monster I know myself to be.

“My name is Leif. We’re traveling to Merihaven, which is three days east.” The soldier gestures at the others. “If you’re heading in the same direction, we’d like to journey together as long as possible. We could use someone like you.”

Someone like you.

He means a killer.

I re-sheathe my sword. “No.” Kids shouldn’t be forced to march alongside a man like me while I’m transporting a prisoner. The gods only know what she might force me to do in order to keep her with me. I don’t want the little ones to witness anything that will stay with them for the rest of their lives, assuming they haven’t already.

“We can pay.” The young mother takes a desperate step forward. “Please. My name’s Mira…the baby’s Stark. We’ve been traveling for two weeks, hiding in the woods whenever we hear someone approach. The roads aren’t safe.” She stops and swallows audibly enough for me to hear her throat click. “We can’t do this alone.”

“I said no.” They’ve got nothing of value to attract the attention of bandits, so unless slavers happen upon them, they should be safe until they reach Merihaven.

“We’d be honored to travel with you,” Esme cuts in, completely ignoring the fact that she’s half-dead from blood loss and has no authority to talk for me.

Every head swivels toward her. None faster than mine. My nose twitches in consternation.

The refugees gaze at her like she’s handed them salvation on a plate. The grandmother openly weeps to the point where Leif has to support her. He wraps his arm around the elderly woman’s shoulder in a sure sign of trust considering he’s only got the one. “We won’t slow you down. I promise.”

I could strangle Esme right here. That would convince them I’m not the person they want to travel with. “We’re not⁠—”

She sits up straighter, that stubborn chin in the air again. “We’d be glad for the company.” She speaks over me like I’m not trying to refuse. “Safety in numbers. That’s what they say.”

Leif offers me his only hand. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means.”