Page 72 of Winter's Echo
“Nobody draw,” I said quietly to the soldiers around me. “Nobody.”
I saw Nicco go still, which was either compliance or calculation. With him, the difference was academic.
The man who stepped forward was broad-shouldered and younger than I expected. His face wrappings were pulled down to his chin, revealing a jaw that hadn't seen a blade in weeks, and eyes that did the same thing Nicco's eyes always did — counting, measuring, deciding.
He looked at me. Not the soldiers, and not the mercenaries.
Me.
“Trailfinder,” he said. Not a greeting but a statement of fact.
“Aye.” I kept my voice even. “We're passing through. Northbound. We have no interest in your camp, your stores, or your people.”
“North to Iskaeld.” Not a question.
I didn’t even try to lie. “We are.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nicco stiffen. He was definitely pissed off.
The stranger looked past me toward the soldiers, at the Darysian colors they'd stopped trying to hide two days ago when the storm took everything that wasn't strapped down. His jaw tightened.
“Darysiasends soldiers north to Iskaeld.”
“Darysia sends soldiers everywhere,” I replied easily. “It's what they do. These ones mean you no harm.”
“You speak for them?”
“I speak for the trail,” I said calmly. “And the trail says we pass through, and you let us. Nobody wins a fight in this cold.”
He looked at me for a long moment. The kind of look that was doing serious work behind very still eyes.
“You're Amarya,” he said, almost softly.
That surprised me so much I almost showed it. Almost. “You know my name.”
“You found the Cryarek Pass in the storm three winters ago. Brought eleven merchants through alive.” He tilted his head slightly. “Lost one horse.”
“The horse was already lame,” I said, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “It wasn't going to make it regardless.”
Something shifted in his expression. Not warmth exactly, but recognition. “Vorn,” he said, touching his chest briefly.
“Amarya.” I returned the gesture. “We just want to pass.”
Vorn looked past me again, longer this time. His eyes settled on Nicco and held there with the look of a man who recognized something he didn't like. I didn't know what look Nicco was returning, and I didn't dare look.
“One night,” Vorn finally said. “You will shelter with us, eat, leave at first light, and don't come back this way.”
I felt the collective exhale of the soldiers behind me, knowing they wouldn’t have to fight.
“One night,” I agreed. “And your people stay away from ours.”
His eyes moved to mine again. “Same goes.”
He turned, and his people turned with him, and just like that, the threat became an escort as we followed them through the snow toward the curl of smoke that had given them away.
I fell back slightly, letting the soldiers move ahead of me. Nicco appeared at my shoulder without a sound.
“You've been here before,” he said.
