Page 11 of Winter's Echo
I turned and looked at my captor, not surprised to see the man from the market and the inn.
I didn’t understand why he was here until the wind blew his cloak and I saw his tunic.
Dark gray, but with enough leather straps to hold many weapons. Few needed to be that heavily armed if they weren’t wearing the colors of their king or queen.
I met his gaze. “Mercenary?”
He grinned, and I felt stupid for not making the connection sooner. Of course, they would hire someone like him to catch me.
“Let’s go.” He nudged me gently, not hard enough to be considered a push but a clear command to move.
We didn’t speak as we crested the rise and Collhallow lay below us. I saw the wagons as the gates to the town opened. The soldiers from yesterday were now in them.
Great.
Just what I needed, round two with pricks in metal shells.
We didn’t speak as he walked me toward the large gates of Collhallow. Even if the wind had not been high and drowning out most sound, I don’t think he was the type to talk for no reason.
The gates creaked open, their hinges freezing in the cold. Inside, many fires in large stone casks were scattered through the town. It was one of the reasons I liked this village. It was almost cozy sometimes.
The high walls around the town acted as a windbreaker, and the respite was welcome.
He didn’t push his hood down, and neither did I. I walked alongside him as he led me through streets I knew better than most. He didn’t seem bothered by the twisting, winding streets, and I kept glancing at him, trying to understand how this stranger was so familiar with this town.
My feet slowed as we approached the garish and frankly off-putting inn at the center of the town.
“Problem?” he asked gruffly.
“I’m not the most… welcome inside.” I turned slightly to point at a smaller establishment, where weathered timbers seemed to struggle to hold up the corrugated metal roof. “That one has better ale, and the meat in the pie isn’t unknown.”
He grinned, and I saw his straight and even teeth. “Aye, it’s a good pie.” He sniffed. “But they went to that one, and that’s the one they want us at.” He gave me an amused look. “Who are we to argue?”
“Your fee is to bring me here?” I leveled him with a look. “Orkeepme here?”
He laughed. “Still negotiating the terms, girl.”
“Amarya,” I said through clenched teeth, walking ahead of him. If I were going to be taken to these soldiers, I’d walk in unaided and on my own terms.
“Baxley,” he offered from behind me.
“Didn’t ask,” I snapped back just as I pushed the door open to the overpriced, overdecorated, and overthought of inn.
There were others mostly seated at the dining tables, thawing out by one of the free fires in the room. Captain Marson and his idiots were in a cluster at the front desk, all taller than the owner.
I heard her protest before I saw her.
“No. Absolutely not. She isnotwelcome here.”
I heard Baxley’s huff of amusement from behind me, but I didn’t turn to glare at him like I wanted to. I kept my focus on the group of soldiers as they parted for her.
Her gown was of a pink so bright, my eyes blinked in protest. The skirts made a swooshing sound, the material stiff and coarse as it struggled to fool you into thinking it was silk.
Her hair was parted down the middle, pulled into high ponytails on each side, and curled into ringlets. It looked like it took a long time, and I couldn't understand why anyone would sit through that. I noticed the ribbons of her hair were just as bright as the offending shade of her dress.
“Out, out,out.” She pointed at the door.
“Okay.” I turned and headed back the way I came.
