“We could use her soldiers,” Tyn said. “My own force is reduced to a handful.” She inspected Shallan again, this time with curiosity. It wasn’t an unfriendly look.

“Then we shall make an accord,” Macob said, smiling broadly and reaching across the table toward Shallan. “In my gratitude for my life, I shall see you cared for with new apparel and fine foodstuffs for the duration of our travels together. You and your men will ensure our safety the rest of the way, and then we will part, nothing more owed to one another.”

“Agreed,” Shallan said, taking his hand. “I shall allow you to join me, your caravan unto mine.”

He hesitated. “Your caravan.”

“Yes.”

“And your authority, then, I assume?”

“You expected otherwise?”

He sighed, but shook on the deal. “No, I suppose not. I suppose not.” He released her hand, then waved toward a pair of people off at the side of the wagons. Tvlakv and Tag. “And what of those?”

“They are mine,” Shallan said. “I will deal with them.”

“Just keep them at the back of the caravan, if you will,” Macob said, wrinkling his nose. “Grimy business. I’d rather not our caravan stink of those wares. Either way, you’d best be about gathering your people. There will be a highstorm soon. With our lost wagons, we have no extra shelter.”

Shallan left them and made her way across the valley, trying to ignore the mingled stench of blood and char. A shape split from the darkness, moving in beside her. Vathah didn’t look any less intimidating in the better light here.

“Well?” Shallan asked him.

“Some of my men are dead,” he said, his voice a monotone.

“They died doing a very good work,” Shallan said, “and the families of these who lived will bless them for their sacrifice.”

Vathah took her arm, pulling her to a stop. His grip was firm, even painful. “You don’t look like you did before,” he said. She hadn’t realized how much he towered over her. “Did my eyes mistake me? I saw a queen in the darkness. Now I see a child.”

“Perhaps you saw what your conscience needed you to see,” Shallan said, tugging—unsuccessfully—on her arm. She blushed.

Vathah leaned in. His breath wasn’t particularly sweet. “My men have done worse things than this,” he whispered, waving his other hand at the burning dead. “Out in the wilderness, we took. We killed. You think one night absolves us? You think one night will stop the nightmares?”

Shallan felt a hollowness in her stomach.

“If we go with you to the Shattered Plains, we’re dead men,” Vathah said. “We’ll be hanged the moment we return.”

“My word—”

“Your word means nothing, woman!” he shouted, grip tensing.

“You should let her go,” Pattern said calmly from behind him.

Vathah spun, looking about, but they weren’t near anyone in particular. Shallan spotted Pattern on the back of Vathah’s uniform as he turned.

“Who said that?” Vathah demanded.

“I heard nothing,” Shallan said, somehow managing to sound calm.

“You should let her go,” Pattern repeated.

Vathah looked around again, then back at Shallan, who met his gaze with a level stare. She even forced out a smile.

He let go of her and wiped his hand on his trousers, then retreated. Pattern slipped down his back and leg onto the ground, then skimmed toward Shallan.

“That one will be trouble,” Shallan said, rubbing the place where he’d gripped her.

“Is this a figure of speech?” Pattern asked.

“No. I mean what I said.”

“Curious,” Pattern said, watching Vathah retreat, “because I think he already is trouble.”

“True.” She continued her way toward Tvlakv, who sat on the seat of his wagon with hands clasped before him. He smiled toward Shallan as she arrived, though the expression seemed particularly thin on him today.

“So,” he asked conversationally, “were you in on it from the start?”

“In on what?” Shallan asked wearily, shooing Tag away so she could talk to Tvlakv in private.

“Bluth’s plan.”

“Please, do tell.”

“Obviously,” Tvlakv said, “he was in league with the deserters. That first night, when he came running back to the camp, he’d met with them and promised to let them take us if he could share in the wealth. That was why they did not immediately kill you two when you went to speak with them.”

“Oh?” Shallan asked. “And if that were the case, why did Bluth come back and warn us that night? Why did he flee with us, instead of just letting his ‘friends’ kill us right then?”

“Perhaps he only met with a few of them,” Tvlakv said. “Yes, they lit fires on that hillside in the night to make us think there were more, and then his friends went to gather a larger crowd… And…” He deflated. “Storms. That doesn’t make any sense. But how, why? We should be dead.”

“The Almighty preserved us,” Shallan said.

“Your Almighty is a farce.”

“You should hope he is,” Shallan said, walking to the back of Tag’s wagon nearby. “For if he is not, then Damnation itself awaits men like you.” She inspected the cage. Five slaves in grimy clothing huddled inside, each one looking alone, though they were crammed in close.

“These are mine now,” Shallan told Tvlakv.

“What!” he stood up on his seat. “You—”

“I saved your life, you oily little man,” Shallan said. “You will give me these slaves in payment. Dues in recompense for my soldiers protecting you and your worthless life.”

“This is robbery.”

“This is justice. If it bothers you, submit a grievance with the king in the Shattered Plains, once we arrive.”

“I’m not going to the Shattered Plains,” Tvlakv spat. “You have someone else to convey you now, Brightness. I’m heading south, as I originally intended.”

“Then you’ll do so without these,” Shallan said, using her key—the one he had given her to get into her wagon—to open the cage. “You will give me their writs of slavery. And the Stormfather help you if not everything is in order, Tvlakv. I’m very good at spotting a forgery.”

She hadn’t ever even seen a writ of slavery, and wouldn’t know how to tell if one was faked. She didn’t care. She was tired, frustrated, and eager to be done with this night.

One by one, five hesitant slaves stepped from the wagon, shaggy bearded and shirtless. Her trip with Tvlakv had not been pleasant, but it had been luxurious compared to what these men had been through. Several glanced at the darkness nearby, as if eager.

“You may run if you wish,” Shallan said, softening her tone. “I will not hunt you. I need servants, however, and I will pay you well. Six firemarks a week if you agree to put five of them toward paying down your slave debt. One if you don’t.”

One of the men cocked his head. “So… we take away the same amount either way? What kind of sense does that make?”