Page 45 of Winter's Fate

“My brother can pay them there,” he said. “So, yes.”

At least they could now walk along the road. It was far easier than picking their way through the forest. Callum dispatchedtwo of the bandits to walk a little way into the woods on either side of the road, instructing them to keep a watch in all directions.

The way the rest of them arranged themselves around the party, they did seem to take their new job seriously. Trying to forget the conversation with Callum, and to ignore the way he watched her too closely—whether out of concern or fear, she wasn’t sure—she schooled her expression to one of lightness.

The bandits had helped rescue her. It could do only good to get to know them a little.

“How far is it to Inasvale?” she asked as the cabin receded into the woods behind them.

Maynard cast a glance over his shoulder, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch without even looking at it. “Another three days’ walk, I’d wager,” he said. “Fizz. Get the couple some of those brown bread rolls, will you? The poor lady looks half starved.”

Gretchen, who’d positioned herself to Maynard’s right, shot them a dark look, though Laena thought that might well be a default expression for her. But another bandit—Fizz, apparently—bounced up merrily enough, handing them each a pair of rolls from the pack he carried on his back. At first, Laena thought he must be one of the younger members of the band, but a closer look revealed lines around his eyes and a deeply receding hairline. Still, he had a youthful air about him.

Maybe they really were performers.

Or cooks. The roll was hard but good, with an edge of sweetness to it. Different. She found herself devouring it; she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. “Molasses?” she asked.

“My best recipe,” Fizz said eagerly, and she realized he was watching her with his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Waiting, she thought, for her review of the food.

“It’s delicious,” Laena said. “I’ve never had such good traveling bread.”

Of course, she hadn’t had very much traveling bread. But he didn’t need to know that.

Fizz grinned, the smile splitting his face evenly in half. “Isn’t it? I said, why should traveling food be so tasteless just because it needs to last? These are hard, they gotta be so they don’t get moldy—I baked ’em two days ago, no need to fret—but I could send sailors on a trip for six months and they’d be safe to eat! And happy, too. It’s the molasses, sure as anything.”

Laena didn’t know about the six months, but it did taste good. Or maybe it was just that she was near famished and would have eaten anything they offered.

“Fool,” Gretchen muttered. Though she was walking ahead of them, she kept peering back at Laena and Callum with such narrow-eyed focus that Laena wondered how she hadn’t tripped over her feet yet. It was as if she expected Laena or Callum to lunge forward and slit Maynard’s throat, now that she’d been rescued.

“Perhaps you should open a shop,” Laena said.

Beside her, Callum shook his head. She could practically hear him muttering not to encourage Fizz. Which, truth be told, only made her want to encourage him more.

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, soon as we reach Inasvale,” Fizz said cheerfully. “Well, except for the shop part.”

“So not exactly,” Callum said. Laena elbowed him in the arm, and he glanced at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. At least he didn’t leap away from her for fear of her magic.

“I’ll sell the bread to the merchants there,” Fizz said. “Turn our fates around.”

“Fizz, he’s not overly happy with our change in fortune,” one of the other bandits put in.

“I wouldn’t mind a new fortune myself,” another added.

Most of them were nodding along, and Laena found herself hoping she could use her influence to help them. What little influence she had, that was. “Forgive me,” she said, doing herbest to be delicate, “but you don’t seem like verypracticedbandits. How long have you been… without performing jobs?”

Fizz sighed. Before he could speak, Gretchen said, “We robbed a coach last week. How do you think we got the coin to make the bread? Ingredients cost money.”

The woman certainly sounded defensive. Not proud of their coach-robbing feat, not exactly, but… not ashamed of it, either. Even though Fizz kept darting glances at his shoes, as ifhemight be a bit ashamed.

One-time performers turned bandits. Who aspired to be bakers. It was… well, it was sweet actually.

“Gretchen,” Maynard said, “if you’re gonna grouse like your tongue’s gone sour, you can take up the rear and watch for anyone who might be following us.”

Gretchen shot him a murderous glare, but she did as he said, dropping back to the rear of the group. Though it might have been mainly that she wanted to avoid Fizz, or any further conversation with Laena and Callum.

“Hard times,” Maynard said. “Crops withering without reason. Fish have been scarce. We’ve had to leave the bounds of what we’d usually allow.”

Fizz nodded sadly. “And no one wants to pay for a song.”

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