Instead of taking the route she had planned out of the city, Jicks went through the marketplace; there was one weaver setting up her stall, and Jicks had Abi buy blankets enough for a fourth bedroll. Other than that, Korlak actually had made as adequate a set of preparations as his poverty allowed; he had two changes of robes and more smallclothes bundled up on his back, plus eating utensils and his wand and knife. “I’m from the Red River School,” he explained to a bemused Stev as they sat on the wagon-box. “We use sigils and runes for casting spells, not components.”

“How’s your healing?” asked Jicks.

“It’s not bad, when I’m not hungry. . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Good. There’s travel biscuit in a satchel under the seat. Eat it until you’re not hungry,” she ordered.

He rummaged and put the satchel on the seat between himself and Stev, removed a packet, and started eating. “This—this’s good!” he exclaimed. “Why does everyone always complain about this stuff?”

Jicks exchanged a look with Abi, one that said Like I thought. Not hungry. Starving.

He went through two entire packets of the biscuit before he sighed and put the satchel back under the seat. “I feel like I need a nap now,” he said, with chagrin.

By this point they were out of the city and on route to the next scheduled stop.

“So go make yourself comfortable back there and have a nap,” said Stev. “I very much doubt we’re going to have any trouble that we can’t see for leagues.”

He gestured at the road before them, which wound along the side of a river valley between craggy hills. From her reading, Abi had a good idea what ideal country for an ambush should look like. This wasn’t it.

Korlak didn’t have to be asked twice; he climbed into the back of the wagon, and nothing more was heard from him.

“How did you guess what had happened to him?” Abi asked Jicks. Jicks shrugged.

“I didn’t guess,” she said. “When you’re in charge of a fair number of new recruits, which I often am, you come to figure out what reactions go with what stories. Nobody goes into a mercenary company, or into a mission like ours, without motivation. Yours—yours is to set things right for the people the Karsites are hurting. Stev’s is to make sure Valdemar’s name is cleared. Right?”

Stev nodded.

“Mine’s twofold. Money is the primary one, but secondarily, I’ve heard a lot about these Karsite bastards, and I would be quite pleased if I could remove some of them from the face of the world.” She smiled grimly. “I suspect, I’ve heard rumors of what you know, Stev. That they’re child-murdering monsters.”