And so did the guard standing watch.
Despair rose, sharp and swift. I shoved it down. Of course they’d posted a guard on this bridge. Anyone planning to flee south would either have to attempt to cross the freezing river, traverse the Normathe Mountains, or take the bridge from Mistrun.
If only I’d washed up on the other side of the river.
You weren’t going to wash up anywhere. You were half dead, remember?
Oh, I remembered. And I remembered the distant, bored look in those dark green eyes when the mercenary told Galon to leave me for dead.
If nothing else, my fury would keep me warm over the coming days.
The guard didn’t look very old. He paced back and forth in an obvious attempt to keep himself alert. I studied his movements. The fact that the guard was young wasn’t good for me. Young meant strong.
If I’d practiced more with a crossbow, I could’ve killed him from here. I sighed. I’d been on the run for mere hours, and already, I was contemplating murder as easily as contemplating breaking my fast in the morning. I should probably be concerned about that.
Unfortunately, my odds of hitting the guard from this far away—in the dark—were about as high as Asinia winning a game of King’s Web.
My heart ached at the thought of my best friend. Did she think I was dead? Did she hate me now for being…corrupt?
Later. I’d think about that later.
The guard had a sword on his hip, and he moved like he knew what he was doing. But he was alert enough that he was clearly new to this kind of posting. And new guards were more likely to be paying attention.
But this guard had likely been recruited by force from one of the poorer villages and sent to the city for basic training before being deployed. With any hope, he’d see a poor, defenseless young woman and picture his sister. I surveyed the bridge. The railing was just above the guard’s hips.
Okay.
I shoved the hunter’s knife into the saddlebag. The crossbow wasn’t a problem—I looked like any desperate woman who’d gone hunting and gotten lost.
Taking a moment to think about all the ways life had recently wronged me, I allowed my eyes to fill. It didn’t take much to give in to the sorrow that wanted to drag me down.
I choked out a sob. “Excuse me?”
The guard jolted, blushed, and frowned in quick succession. His hand slid to his sword, and I held up my hands, another sob leaving my throat.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
That told me all I needed to know. Just a few years of service would have toughened the guard until his first words would have been Who are you? A few more years, and he would have immediately ordered me to lie down on the ground before stripping me of my weapons.
“N-no.”
I’d always looked pitiful when I cried. It was one of the reasons I hated it so much. I let my lower lip tremble, and the guard took his hand off the hilt of his sword.
“I was in the f-forest, looking for food for my f-family,” I sniffled, stepping closer. “I got lost. And then…”
“It’s okay.” The guard took in my torn clothes and the blood on them, and I saw the moment he came to the logical conclusion.
“There’s a healer in this town.” The guard leaned against the bridge railing and nodded toward Mistrun. Even as young as he was, he didn’t offer to take me there himself. Instead, he reached for the pouch hanging from his belt, pulling out a green trowth stone.
Fuck.
He would use that stone to contact his commander, who would immediately order my arrest.
My hand itched for the knife in my saddlebag.
And the hunter’s shocked, accusing face flickered through my mind.
Real tears spilled from my eyes. I didn’t want to hurt this young guard.
“Please don’t,” I said, nodding to the trowth stone. “I…I’d prefer privacy.”
He frowned, but his hand drifted away from the stone.
“I would escort you to the healer myself, but I can’t leave my posting.”
“I think I would prefer to find a healer in the next village.” I nodded to the other side of the river, still inching closer to the guard.
He frowned, clearly wondering why I would continue walking in my condition.
He looked at me again. Realization flickered through his eyes, and his hand landed on his sword.
But I was already launching myself at him.
If he’d been a woman, it wouldn’t have worked. We had a lower balance point. And if the guard had been standing a single step farther from the railing, he would have used that sword to run me through.