Page 63 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

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Aren

“How long will the journey take?”Aren asked Timin, walking unsteadily down the path to the stables where their caravan was waiting. He wasn’t precisely drunk. But neither was he precisely sober, his recent deprivations having given him no head for the strong drink these men preferred. If he were going to make this plan work, he needed a clearer mind.

“A week,” Timin answered, clapping him on the back. “Perhaps ten days. Where will you go next, my friend?”

“The coast.” One of the stable boys handed Jack’s reins to Aren. The camel lifted one lip as though he might bite before deciding Aren wasn’t worth the effort. “I’ve had enough of sand.”

“Do you have friends there? Family who will surely be growing concerned for your welfare?”

It was all Aren could do not to roll his eyes at the obviousness of the man’s ploy, but he answered, “My family is all in Harendell, thank God. I’ll have time to think of a way to explain that I’ve lost all of their money.” He belched loudly. “Might take my time, then use the storms as an excuse not to go back for a year.”

Timin laughed before shouting at his men to start moving, the group striding out of the town and south toward Valcotta.

The air was swiftly turning cold, and Aren wondered how long that would be a blessing to Lara’s burned skin before it turned into a curse. She’d looked miserable and deeply unwell. And every time one of the merchants had gone near her, it had been a struggle not to pull a weapon and go to her defense.

“So serious, James.” Timin’s voice broke into Aren’s thoughts.

“Merely contemplating a week of walking.”

“Ah, yes. Perhaps this will help ease your mind.”

The merchant tried to pass Aren a bottle, but he held up his hands. “You’ve already been more than generous with the offer you have given for my camel. I couldn’t possibly take more.”

“Nonsense! The beast is of the best stock. It is I who am coming out ahead in our bargain.”

Pretending to waver, Aren finally accepted the bottle and feigned drinking deeply. “You are a true friend.”

They walked for close to an hour in the darkness, Timin singing the entire time while Aren pretended to drink, surreptitiously pouring the contents into the sand from time to time. He staggered frequently, colliding with the unamused Jack.

But he was stone-cold sober when he heard the blade being drawn behind him.

Turning, Aren regarded Timin, who held a long knife, his two partners flanking him. The younger one stood a distance back holding the camels’ leads, his expression terrified.

“Drop your beast’s lead,” Timin said. “Then lay down in the sand.”

“And here I thought we were friends.” Aren dropped Jack’s lead but remained on his feet.

The merchant lifted one shoulder. “What can I say? Business is business.”

“This seems much more like theft.”

The three men laughed and Timin said, “It is only theft if the individual suffering the loss is alive to report the crime.”

It was Aren’s turn to laugh. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Timin’s brow furrowed in confusion, which turned to panic as Aren jerked his sword free from Jack’s pack, attacking the men before they had a chance to react. He opened Timin’s guts, then turned on the other pair, cutting them down mercilessly. In his periphery, he saw the boy drop the camel’s leads and start to run, but Aren was after him in a flash.

Taller and stronger, he caught the boy easily, tackling him into the sand.

“Please,” the boy wept. “Please, have mercy. I didn’t know what they intended to do.”

Likely a lie, but Aren wasn’t in the practice of killing children. “I’m not going to kill you, but I’m afraid I need to keep you quiet until I’m well on my way.”

Gagging the boy, then binding his wrists to his ankles, Aren left him near the camels, which he’d hobbled and staked to the ground. Then a groan of pain caught his attention.

With one arm cradling his innards, Timin was crawling toward the oasis. Following, Aren kicked him in the ribs, flipping him onto his back even as the man screamed for help.

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