Elaine walked away from Logan with her head held high. She could not show any weakness in front of the mercenaries. The scars, sunken eyes, and rotting mouths told her what kind of men they were. They were wild, lawless and amoral. They were the kind of people she knew she shouldn’t have picked a fight with.

  Yet, she wouldn’t have done it any other way.

  All around her, the merchants were still preparing for their departure. Burly men were packing away tents into the wagons and attaching baskets onto hooks mounted on the sides. Even the few children were helping their parents load up small supplies.

  Elaine grimaced; she was useless. She had barely been able to hold her own when Elise and Nell attacked them. She used to be confident that she could win against anything, but time and time again, she could only run away.

  She should have talked to Logan about it. He might understand what it was like. She had never run away from a fight in her life. Whether it was standing up to bullies in the streets as a child, or facing down sarpan invaders as a knight, she wouldn’t run from it.

  She just knew she needed that strength back. Her bones ached at the end of each day, and her body screamed for more than just food. She wanted the touch of Grace again. She needed to feel Astor’s breath course through her.

  “Pardon me, miss,” a small voice said behind her, and Elaine grabbed her sword’s hilt.

  She turned and saw the child, a girl scarcely old enough to wander around on her own. She was barely a thing, like a wisp floating through the dusk light. The girl’s innocent blue eyes looked up at Elaine through her long blonde bangs.

  “Yes.” Elaine smiled, releasing her grip. “What did you need?”

  “Are you a warrior, like those men?” She waved at the other mercenaries, and revulsion welled up within Elaine.

  “Not quite like those men.” Elaine knelt down in front of the girl. “But I am here to protect this caravan.”

  The girl beamed a bright smile. Before Elaine could react, the girl grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her along. Elaine followed awkwardly. The girl held her hand too low for her to walk straight.

  “Where are we going?” Elaine asked.

  “To see my mother,” the girl said, picking up speed.

  The girl led them behind the wagons, running along the line until they were near the front of the caravan. A large woman wearing a white bonnet was hard at work there, loading up baskets with linens and carrying them into the wagons. The girl stopped before they reached her and pulled Elaine’s face close to hers.

  “We have to be careful,” she whispered. “She’s mad at me.”

  “And why is that?” Elaine asked.

  “No reason.” The girl tried her best to look innocent.

  She let go of Elaine’s hand and ran ahead. Elaine stood still for a moment, not really quite sure what to do with her freedom. She could walk away before the girl got her mother and not have to deal with the situation at all.

  However, that would be running away. Elaine forged ahead, following the girl. She wouldn’t run away from this. She wasn’t like Logan, or Joshua. No matter what happened, she would face it head on.

  “Mother.” The girl ran up and pulled on her mother’s rough brown dress.

  “What is it?” the woman’s coarse voice rattled as she turned.

  “I found one.” The girl smiled up at her mother. “I found a knight of Astor, just like in the stories.”

  “What are you talking about, dear?” The woman looked to Elaine and back to her daughter.

  “A woman who carries a sword, and fights for the weak,” the girl said, stamping her foot down. “Look!”

  Elaine blushed as the woman looked at her again with an annoyed glance. The girl might have been right just weeks before, but she wasn’t a knight anymore. She was just Elaine. She wasn’t anything else.

  “I told you not to bother the mercenaries.” The woman thumped the girl lightly on the head. “That means don’t go dragging them to me because you think they’re knights or lords.”

  “Sorry,” the girl said, rubbing her head.

  “Apologies about my daughter.” The woman’s sweaty face lit up with a smile as she approached Elaine. “Sometimes her imagination gets the better of her wits.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “It’s alright,” Elaine said.

  “I’m Sarah and this is my daughter, Jane.” The woman reached out a hand. “You seem new to being a mercenary.”

  “Is it that obvious?” Elaine shook her hand. “I’m Elaine.”

  “Aye,” Sarah said. “And you don’t see a lot of women with a sword.”

  “I get that feeling. I only came into the work recently,” Elaine said. “Why did Jane think I was a knight?”

  “It’s all the stories I tell her,” Sarah said. “They don’t seem to help her observe the rites, but at least they keep her attention.”

  “You follow Astor?” Elaine asked, her eyes widening.

  “Aye.” Sarah reached down her neck and pulled on a silver chain.

  Elaine hadn’t noticed the necklace before. Hanging on it was a silver crook that shone in the setting sun. Elaine recognized it immediately. It was one of the sigils of Astor. It was the crook he held when he led his people out of Abfall.

  “There are so few of us on the frontier,” Sarah said. “Sometimes it’s best if we don’t talk about the Order.”

  Elaine tried to find something to say, some way to express how happy she was, but there was nothing she could think of. She stood in silence as she looked at the crook. In a land of heathens, she had found a believer.

  “You look surprised,” Sarah said.

  “I’m just glad to see another one of us out here.” Tears brimmed in Elaine’s eyes. “I haven’t seen another since I left Nethas.”

  She had to correct herself on that. She hadn’t seen another follower of Astor that wasn’t actively trying to kill her. Elise and Nell would still be following them. If the city guard hadn’t yet arrested them for violating a magistrate’s order, they wouldn’t be far behind either.

  “Well come with me, child.” Sarah took her arm around Elaine’s shoulder. “I don’t often get to talk with other believers. Tell me all the news in Nethas. Who is the head of the Order now?”

  Elaine talked with her for some time while Sarah’s work lay forgotten on the ground. Soon day turned into night and many started searching for a place to sleep. Elaine saw many familiar eyes still watching her as she sat with Sarah and Jane outside their wagon.

  “Do you have any friends in the camp dear?” Sarah asked as night set in.

  “Just two.” Elaine looked around. “I don’t see them here.”

  “You should go to them,” Sarah said, looking toward the setting sun. “The camp isn’t safe after nightfall.”

  “May Astor watch over you,” Elaine said, bowing.

  “You as well,” Sarah said, patting Jane on the shoulder as she led her daughter into the wagon.

  Elaine stepped back through the camp as the shadows rose around her feet. She could hear the men on the inner circle of the wagon, their raucous cries echoing through the open spots. She shuddered as she stopped at the edge of one wagon, leaning against the wood and peering into the inner circle.

  She wasn’t scared, or at least she thought she wasn’t scared. She was outnumbered, and she didn’t have the armor, or the respect it commanded anymore. They might be planning their revenge at that moment.

  Elaine touched the hilt of her sword to calm her shaking hand. How long had it been since she had faced down the dangers of the streets? She had never been afraid of anyone before, not even the older boys at the orphanage.

  She had done it once. She could do it again.

  She picked out Logan in the firelight and headed toward him, stepping out from the shadows deliberately. Each step she took was not hurried. She didn’t rush and she didn’t look around, keeping her eyes focused ahead.

  She would not rush. She would not stumble. She would not shy away. She would not show weakness. She would not attack, but she would not run away. She merely made her presence known, and did not flinch.

  “Lot of nerve you have, showing back up here.” A slightly familiar voice called to her as she neared the firelight.

  She stopped, holding her hand on her hilt, but not turning toward the voice. She patiently counted to ten in her head so that she could achieve the full effect. The man needed to be nice and angry before the fight started.

  “Turn around when I’m speaking to you, love.” The sharp sound of a drawn dagger pricked Elaine’s ears.

  She turned slowly, being sure that the man knew that she was only deigning a response because she had nothing better to do. She let her face remain completely calm as she regarded the man.

  His nose still swelled up bright and red. He had hastily bandaged it with a clean cloth wrapped around his face. Part of the offending red nose still stuck out beneath the white cloth, and a small trail of dried blood stained his lip. His eyes weren’t pitiful. They burned with the fires of vengeance.

  “I show my face where I please,” Elaine said, sliding her sword just a little out of its sheath. “And I talk to who I please how I please.”

  If she didn’t end this now, settle the score in front of the mercenaries as a whole, this would not be the last time she faced down one of them. If she didn’t end it right, there would be other less opportune times where any one of them might actually be able to kill her, or worse.

  It really was no different from the streets.

  “I owe you for a broken nose,” the man said, dropping the dagger and raising up his hands. “I’d rather not have to bring a sword into this.”

  Elaine smiled with no warmth. She sheathed the sword, keeping her eyes locked on the man. With a tug and a throw, she tossed it behind her. She only had to turn her head for a moment, but she locked eyes with Logan as he came forward to pick it up.

  He gave her an understanding nod.

  “Shall we begin your lesson a second time?” Elaine asked, cracking her knuckles.

  He charged at her, his footwork sloppy, his steps uneven, and his movements slow. The man didn’t stand a chance at all. She weaved in between his arms and was in his face before he could react. Elaine’s open palm struck him hard on the nose again, and in less than a breath, the man was on the ground crying out in pain.

  She didn’t feel any elation from her victory. There was only a hollow pit that grew inside of her as the other mercenaries quickly turned their eyes away from the fight. All that mattered is that they didn’t see her as a victim.

  “That’s twice in one day.” Logan nodded down to the man as he returned her sword.

  “Not too surprising is it?” Elaine asked, sighing as she stuck the sword back into her belt.

  “I think you might actually be more scary without the armor,” Logan said, a slight smirk on his face.

  Elaine frowned. She looked back down to the man that lay on the ground crying. She did have some strength without her armor, but it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t sure she could explain it to Logan, or to anyone else.

  She followed Logan back to his spot at the fire. Joshua still wasn’t there, but that wasn’t a surprise. The mage was far too isolated for her to expect him to stick together with a group. At least he would be back before they left in the morning.

  A string of howls rang through the night.