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I look directly at Jaren. “Is that any way to treat a lady, my friend?”
“She ain’t no lady, and I ain’t your friend,” Jaren replies, disdain dripping from his lips.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.I make the clicking sound with my tongue as I try and mirror the collected confidence of Tess Santana. I wag my finger at this man about to lose his life. I briefly make eye contact with Ari, her eyes fixed on me, before turning to the other men.
“I ask that you release me, my horse, and my supplies. And I won’t report you to the Guard.” The men look at me incredulously.
“What about yourlady?” one of them asks, thinking he’s caught the upper-hand.
“While I’ve greatly enjoyed her company,” I wink at Ari, and she proceeds to roll her eyes, “she’s proven more trouble than she’s worth. You can have her, her horse, any of the supplies she was carrying and be on your way.” They look at each other, then back to me. My lack of caring for the woman under Jaren’s knee is not what they were expecting.
“He’s not serious,” Jaren growls, his eyes never leaving me. “They are working together. He defended her against Silas.”
“Oh, I assure you sir. I’m being very serious.” My cool composure backs up my words as I fold my arms across my chest.
“Except we’re the ones who outnumber you, boy. We are the ones who are going to make the demands here,” an older man says. His use ofboymakes my skin crawl. I tolerate it from Otto, but only out of respect for his friendship.
“I’m no boy, I promise you that,” I assert, my tone low and controlled. I steal another glance at Ari, her eyes hardened on me. If I set her free at this moment, I have no doubt she’d come straight for me— after Jaren met his end of course. I glance at the man continuing to push her into the dirt, a little too comfortable atop of her.
My teeth grind together, making it more difficult to keep my voice calm. “You may have the numbers, but you lack the training,” I say. I snap my head back to the other three, pulling my sword from its sheath, running my fingers down the expertly crafted steel. The glare from the fire bounces an almost perfect image of these men back to them in the reflection of my sword.
The smallest of the crew takes an almost imperceptible step back. “Turinian steel.”
“Ah, yes. Turinian steel. Made from the purest metal. Mined from the great Kotar.” I grip the handle firmly in my hand. “Steel engineered impeccably by master blacksmiths who train their entire lives to make swords of this caliber. Swords found only in the depths of Felshan’s militant capital, whom Thenstra no longer trades with.” I take a shot at their nationality, swinging my sword in a quick loop. Itsswooshthrough the air is like music to my ears.
With a slight bend in my knees and my weapon pointing in their direction, I ask, “Do we have a deal? Or would you prefer to spend your last moments with the edge of my blade?”
The one who has yet to address me steps forward, drawing two knives from a leather strap across his chest. “I know you think your fancy toy will make us quiver in our boots. But I was the best knife handler in Thenstra before you were even born,boy.” He spits out the wordboyagain as he raises both hands, twisting the knives around each finger in his own elaborate show of skill.
Three on one isn’t the worst odds I’ve ever faced. A smile crosses my lips as I move toward him, lifting a hand to gesture him forward.
He charges at me, a single-minded determination to end this fight before it even begins. A knife whirls through the air, blocked and deflected to the ground by my leather clad wrist. I move on him before he can throw the next one.
Our weapons slice through the air, metal meeting metal as I block his advance. His footwork isn’t polished, and after a few fumbles I can see the rhythm of his errors. The next few moments are spent lunging, my fist connecting to his jaw, and a complete knockout as the man hits the ground with a loudthump—not a single cut on either of us. I laugh, the lighthearted sound being met with gnarled lips and seething eyes from the three remaining men, Jaren included.
“This is the best that comes out of Thenstra? No wonder King Brekan hides atop the mountains,” I taunt.
“We are no Thenstrans.” The older man draws his sword slowly, looking to me as if I’m fresh meat in the starved sands of Venes.
“This can end now if you just let me go. It’s a simple trade,” I say.
The man who was about to charge looks disbelieving, but my logic starts to win out as his anger softens to annoyance. He looks to Ari, then back to me. “We can keep her?”
“You can keep her,” I reply, raising my right hand in a gesture of truth and promise.
I steal another glance at Ari and where I expect to see fire, I see cool resolve. Silas would still consider retrieving only her a win, since her deceit ran much deeper than mine. If they were truly his men, they would know this and cut their losses.
The older man nods. “Fine. Go. Quickly.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the road.
I nod, sheathing my sword as I begin gathering up my things. Everyone watches me carefully, the steady rhythm of cicadas rising in the once noiseless camp. I strap the saddle on Red, and I check my bag, sighing loudly as I rub my temples.
“What is it?” the leader snaps at me, breaking our silence, his sword still drawn.
“She stole my map. The little thief must have taken it when I left to find food. I need it before I go. If you wouldn’t mind sitting her up for a moment so I can check her for it.” I keep my true desire from my face, nailing a blank mask of slight annoyance on it instead.
The leader narrows his eyes. “You said we could keep her. That includes anything on her.”
“Yes, yes. I understand. But you see, that map is very important to me. If you just let me take it back, I will be on my way with no further incident.” Ari struggles against Jaren, and he pushes her face harder into the dirt. The slightest wince pulls my body backward, but luckily everyone is too transfixed on the struggling girl to notice.
