This time, he awkwardly struggled upright, stumbling twice before he was able to get his feet under him. “What are you going to do with me?” he asked, unable to hide the quiver in his voice.

“If you behave? Sell you,” Mister Rose said. “If you misbehave? Let’s just say, you don’t want to find out.”

“I love it when you make threats,” Dahlia said, sidling up to the man, dagger still gripped in one hand. She raised the other hand to cup her father’s chin and pull it to her. And then she kissed him on the lips. Not a daughter to father peck but the lingering kiss of a lover.

When she pulled away, she turned back toward Ludo. “Surprised? All it takes is a few bats of my doe eyes and everyone thinks I’m an innocent child. My real da was a drunk, violent bastard. I got tired of his beatings, so I slit his throat one night after he passed out.” She scoffed out a laugh.

“Get in the wagon,” Mister Rose ordered, and this time Ludo didn’t wait to be kicked, scurrying ahead of them. Unfortunately, he went a little too fast for the length of his shackles, tripping and tumbling face-first into the ground.

“Clumsy fool,” Dahlia muttered.

He came up tasting dirt, but scrambled up once more, making the rest of the short journey to the wagon with more caution. Now came the really hard part. With his hands tethered behind him and linked to his feet, he’d need to be creative. He turned with his back to the wagon and placed his palms down on the wooden lip. Then he hoisted himself high enough to scoot his rear in place before swinging his legs around. He crawled armlessly inside, feeling more like a snake than a human. Something long and bony protruded under him and someone groaned.

It was too dark to see, so he whispered a quick, “Sorry,” to whomever he’d accidentally squashed and then slithered on until he found an empty space, sliding until his back pressed to the fabric covering, his hands trapped behind him, and his legs splayed out in front of him.

The murmur of voices arose from outside, but neither Dahlia nor Mister Rose followed him inside. “Sorry, lad, couldn’t warn you about them. Not if I wanted to keep all my fingers and toes,” came a voice.

“It’s alright,” Ludo said, frowning. The voice seemed to come from across from him, but the person he’d squashed had been to his left. Unless he’d become disoriented in the dark, or the inside of the wagon was playing tricks on his ears, the voices bouncing around like echoes inside a cave. “You’re not really Mister Rose’s sick son, are you?”

“No. Not me. Far as I know, he doesn’t have any children, thank the gods. Minwar here was the one he was pretending was his son, but only because the damn fool hasn’t learned how to keep his mouth shut.”