“You’re from up north, ain’t you?”
“Yeah, left Medford yesterday.”
The man holding his horse nodded and Hadrian noticed a small red tattoo on his neck. “See, that’s your problem.” His face softened to a sympathetic expression that appeared more threatening by its intimacy. “You’re probably on your way to Colnora—nice city. Lots of shops. Lots of fancy rich folk. Lots of trading going on down there, and we get lots of people along this road carrying all kinds of stuff to sell to them fancy folk. But I’m guessing you ain’t been south before, have you? Up in Melengar, King Amrath goes to the trouble of having soldiers patrol the roads. But here in Warric, things are done a bit differently.”
Flat-nose came closer, licking his split lip as he studied the spadone sword on his back.
“Are you saying theft is legal?”
“Naw, but King Ethelred lives in Aquesta and that’s awfully far from here.”
“And the Earl of Chadwick? Doesn’t he administer these lands on the king’s behalf?”
“Archie Ballentyne?” The mention of his name brought chuckles from the other thieves. “Archie don’t give a rat’s ass what goes on with the common folk. He’s too busy picking out what to wear.” The man grinned, showing yellowed teeth that grew at odd angles. “So now drop them swords and climb down. Afterward, you can walk on up to Ballentyne Castle, knock on old Archie’s door, and see what he does.” Another round of laughter. “Now unless you think this is the perfect place to die—you’re gonna do as I say.”
“You were right, Royce,” Hadrian said in resignation. He unclasped his cloak and laid it across the rear of his saddle. “We should have left the road, but honestly—I mean, we are in the middle of nowhere. What were the odds?”
“Judging from the fact that we’re being robbed—pretty good, I think.”
“Kinda ironic—Riyria being robbed. Almost funny even.”
“It’s not funny.”
“Did you say Riyria?” the man holding Hadrian’s horse asked.
Hadrian nodded and pulled his gloves off, tucking them into his belt.
The man let go of his horse and took a step away.
“What’s going on, Will?” the girl asked. “What’s Riyria?”
“There’s a pair of fellas in Melengar that call themselves that.” He looked toward the others and lowered his voice a bit. “I got connections up that way, remember? They say two guys calling themselves Riyria work out of Medford and I was told to keep my distance if I was ever to run across them.”
“So what you thinking, Will?” scar-face asked.
“I’m thinking maybe we should clear the brush and let them ride through.”
“What? Why? There’s five of us and just two of them,” flat-nose pointed out.
“But they’re Riyria.”
“So what?”
“So, my associatesup north—they ain’t stupid, and they told everyone never to touch these two. And my associates ain’t exactly the squeamish types. If they say to avoid them, there’s a good reason.”
Flat-nose looked at them again with a critical eye. “Okay, but how do you know these two guys are them? You just gonna take their word for it?”
Will nodded toward Hadrian. “Look at the swords he’s carrying. A man wearing one—maybe he knows how to use it, maybe not. A man carries two—he probably don’t know nothing about swords, but he wants you to think he does. But a man carrying three swords—that’s a lot of weight. No one’s gonna haul that much steel around unless he makes a living using them.”
Hadrian drew two swords from his sides in a single elegant motion. He flipped one around, letting it spin against his palm once. “Need to get a new grip on this one. It’s starting to fray again.” He looked at Will. “Shall we get on with this? I believe you were about to rob us.”
The thieves shot uncertain glances to each other.
“Will?” the girl asked. She was still holding the bow taut but looked decidedly less confident.
“Let’s clear the brush out of their way and let them pass,” Will said.
“You sure?” Hadrian asked. “This nice man with the busted nose seems to have his heart set on getting a sword.”
“That’s okay,” flat-nose said, looking up at Hadrian’s blades as the moonlight glinted off the mirrored steel.
“Well, if you’re sure.”
All five nodded and Hadrian sheathed his weapons.
Will planted his sword in the dirt and waved the others over as he hurried to clear the barricade of branches blocking the roadway.
“You know, you’re doing this all wrong,” Royce told them.
The thieves stopped and looked up, concerned.
Royce shook his head. “Not clearing the brush—the robbery. You picked a nice spot. I’ll give you that. But you should have come at us from both sides.”
“And, William—it is William, isn’t it?” Hadrian asked.
The man winced and nodded.
“Yeah, William, most people are right-handed, so those coming in close should approach from the left. That would’ve put us at a disadvantage, having to swing across our bodies at you. Those with bows should be on our right.”
“And why just one bow?” Royce asked. “She could have only hit one of us.”
“Couldn’t even have done that,” Hadrian said. “Did you notice how long she held the bow bent? Either she’s incredibly strong—which I doubt—or that’s a homemade greenwood bow with barely enough power to toss the arrow a few feet. Her part was just for show. I doubt she’s ever launched an arrow.”
“Have too,” the girl said. “I’m a fine marksman.”
Hadrian shook his head at her with a smile. “You had your forefinger on top of the shaft, dear. If you had released, the feathers on the arrow would have brushed your finger and the shot would have gone anywhere but where you wanted it to.”
Royce nodded. “Invest in crossbows. Next time stay hidden and just put a couple bolts into each of your targets’ chests. All this talking is just stupid.”
“Royce!” Hadrian admonished.
“What? You’re always saying I should be nicer to people. I’m trying to be helpful.”
“Don’t listen to him. If you do want some advice, try building a better barricade.”
“Yeah, drop a tree across the road next time,” Royce said. Waving a hand toward the branches, he added, “This is just pathetic. And cover your faces for Maribor’s sake. Warric isn’t that big of a kingdom and people might remember you. Sure Ballentyne isn’t likely to bother tracking you down for a few petty highway robberies, but you’re gonna walk into a tavern one day and get a knife in your back.” Royce turned to William. “You were in the Crimson Hand, right?”
Will looked startled. “No one said nothing about that.” He stopped pulling on the branch he was working on.
“Didn’t need to. The Hand requires all guild members to get that stupid tattoo on their necks.” Royce turned to Hadrian. “It’s supposed to make them look tough, but all it really does is make it easy to identify them as thieves for the rest of their lives. Painting a red hand on everyone is pretty stupid when you think about it.”
“That tattoo is supposed to be a hand?” Hadrian asked. “I thought it was a little red chicken. But now that you mention it, a hand does make more sense.”
Royce looked back at Will and tilted his head to one side. “Does kinda look like a chicken.”
Will clamped a palm over his neck.
After the last of the brush was cleared, William asked, “Who are you, really? What exactly is Riyria? The Hand never told me. They just said to keep clear.”
“We’re nobody special,” Hadrian replied. “Just a couple of travelers enjoying a ride on a cool autumn’s night.”
“But seriously,” Royce said. “You need to listen to us if you’re going to keep doing this. After all, we’re going to take your advice.”
“What advice?”
Royce gave a gentle kick to his horse and started forward on the road again. “We’re going to visit the Earl of Chadwick, but don’t worry—we won’t mention you.”