I wandered over to him, taking a seat a few foot-spans farther from the spot he’d indicated. He merely held out a dish for me, already laden with some kind of meat. My stomach growled in response.
I took it, and he passed me a bladder of water. “You can keep that,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“My name is Rythos.”
“Prisca.”
We ate in silence. I inched closer to the fire, still feeling cold deep in my bones. Most of the other men went back to sleep, but Rythos said he was going to be on sentry duty soon so was happy to cook for me.
Maybe it was his way of making me lower my guard around him. That wouldn’t happen, but I’d happily eat his food.
Lorian prowled restlessly around the camp, checking the horses, throwing an extra bedroll on the ground, and sending me the occasional narrowed-eyed look. I restrained myself from making any comments designed to alienate him even more than I had. It was clear that he was the leader here, and his little band of mercenaries didn’t do anything without checking in with him first.
I wolfed down the meat, gulped half the skin of water, and gathered my courage. My next task wouldn’t be enjoyable.
Leaning over, I examined my filthy feet. A few of the cuts still oozed blood, one of them dark with grit. Risking infection would be the height of stupidity. I poured water over one foot until it was clean enough to bandage. Since I could feel eyes on me, I heroically didn’t wince at the sting. Examining my filthy dress, I attempted to find the cleanest part to tear from.
“Here,” Rythos said, holding out a handful of clean strips of linen. Mercenaries would have to travel with medical supplies. From what I’d heard from the men in my village, they were always fighting and killing and doing various other morally bankrupt tasks for coin.
“Thank you.”
“We have salve too.”
I raised my eyebrow as he handed it over. I could scent the brackweed, which had been ground into a paste and mixed into the salve. It would prevent infection. So far, Rythos seemed the kindest of all the men. Although, like all of them, he’d simply watched as Lorian had threatened to have me drowned. I wouldn’t forget that.
“Do you need help?” a rough voice asked.
I glanced over my shoulder. Lorian was watching me. A strange awareness prickled my skin as our eyes met.
I shook my head. “My brother is a healer.”
Surprise flickered across his face, immediately replaced by his usual inscrutable expression. “He heals small cuts and scrapes, and helps with the occasional mild sickness?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head and stalked away. I glanced at Rythos, who just shrugged, watching as I tended to my feet.
I didn’t know what Lorian had against healers, but I’d seen my brother burn himself out time and time again, attempting to heal vicious wounds and chronic sickness. When our father got sick, Tibris lay next to him for weeks, channeling everything he had into him until he’d been little more than skin and bones himself, too weak to summon his own power.
I’d nearly lost them both.
Now, Tibris was either in incredible danger or…
No. My brother was a survivor. He had people in place for just this scenario.
I studied the men as I finished slathering salve on my feet. Other than Galon, none of them had displayed any hint of their own power. I wasn’t sure exactly what Galon’s gift was, but he hadn’t used it again since I’d stumbled across their camp.
Since they knew what I could do, I needed to find out what kind of threat each of them presented.
As soon as my feet were bandaged, I took the blanket Rythos offered me and lay down on my bedroll, curling into a ball as close to the fire as I could get without getting singed. I was still freezing, but my belly was full, my wounds were bandaged, and my eyes burned with exhaustion.
I’d planned to stay awake, because these men couldn’t be trusted. I felt movement to my right and managed to crack my eyes open, only to find Lorian’s gaze on me.
Something about the assessing look in his eyes made a chill slide over my skin. He looked at me with predatory focus—as if I was a new, unexpected pawn and he was deciding which move he would play.
I shivered and closed my eyes.
CHAPTER SIX
I shook my head at Lorian. He gestured toward his mount once more, his lips thinning when I didn’t immediately move.
I ignored his imperious gesture. “You didn’t tell me we’d be sharing a horse.”
Lorian crossed his arms. “Did you see any spare horses with us, sweetheart?”