“As fine a specimen as I’ve ever seen,” Count Thamos said. “Forgive me, Baron, but I wish every day I’d seen him first.” Rojer turned to see Jasin heeling the count like a dog. Careful to stand well out of reach.

“Offer stands, Highness,” Gared said, holding out the reins with a smile. “You last a full minute in the saddle, and you can take him.”

Rockslide snorted, and Thamos bowed with a laugh. “I know weighted dice when I see them, Baron. I’ll simply take heart that you ride at my command.”

“Ay,” Gared said, only hesitating a little. With Arlen gone, he had grown increasingly dependent on the count. If the Warded Man never returned, he would soon be Thamos’ man through and through.

“The road ahead is unwarded,” Thamos said. “My garrison commander says the increased traffic has drawn demons by the score. It will cost us additional time, but I do not think we should proceed after dusk from here out.”

“Nonsense,” Leesha said, coming up to them. Thamos glimpsed her, and quickly averted his eyes. “We have warded weapons and skilled warriors. If your brother cannot ward his roads and keep them clear, the Hollow should offer assistance.”

Thamos’ jaw tightened. He raised his eyes to her at last. “We have warriors, yes. We also have Herb Gatherers. Foreign dignitaries. Jongleurs. These are not people prepared to go out in the night.”

Leesha snorted. “Rojer alone could protect the entire caravan.”

Ay, don’t bring me into this, Rojer thought.

“How dare you speak to His Highness like that, Gatherer,” Goldentone said. “Prince Thamos is commander of the Wooden Soldiers. He needs no military advice from you. The caravan clearings ahead are filled with beggars these days in any event. Coming in we had to send a squad ahead each day to chase them out before we made camp, and no doubt the filthy rats moved right back in after we passed.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then everyone turned their gaze to Jasin, who wilted under the combined glare. Gared balled his huge fists, and Wonda put a hand on the bow hanging from her saddle.

Thamos’ voice was low, dangerous. “Are you telling me, Herald, that you ran peasants from their wards just before dusk each night on your way to the Hollow?”

Jasin paled. “I was bid to come to you with all haste …”

Thamos moved faster than Rojer would have believed of a man in armor, closing the distance and striking Jasin a sharp backhand that dropped him onto his backside.

“Those people are under my brother’s protection!” Thamos shouted. “They are refugees driven from their homes, not beggars and bandits!”

Jasin had been wise enough to stay down, and Thamos kicked him into a roll. “This is how you represent the crown? By sending those who come to us for aid to their deaths?”

Jasin deftly turned the roll into a tumble that brought him to his knees before the enraged count, his hands clutched together as if in prayer. “Please, Highness. It was by the duke’s own command.”

Everyone had gathered to watch the scene, or stuck heads from carriages. Not just the travelers, the Wooden Soldiers from the garrison were gathering as well, ready to leap to Thamos’ command. All equipped with warded weapons and armor.

The count turned to them. “Are the Wooden Soldiers so unprepared they can’t build their own camps? They need to drive the weak out into the night?”

The captain of the garrison came forward, dropping to one knee before Thamos. “No, Highness, we are not. But the herald speaks true. Duke Rhinebeck himself signed a decree that all who use royal caravan clearings without license are to be driven out.”

Lines appeared on Thamos’ face as his jaw tightened again. “My brother doesn’t have to look peasants in the eye when he condemns them. But you men did.”

The captain put his head down farther. “Yes, sir. And the Creator will judge.”

“No more!” Thamos barked. His voice rose smoothly as he addressed the soldiers directly.

“Perhaps I have not been clear enough in my expectations of your men. For that, I apologize. But listen you well now, that none claim ignorance later. Every human life in Angiers is your charge. They are yours to protect. Not to drive from the safety of their wards. Not to bully, swindle, or solicit bribes from. Not to touch their women. Am I heard?”

“Ay, Commander!” the soldiers shouted as one.

“AM I HEARD?” Thamos cried a second time.

“AY, COMMANDER!” the men thundered.

Thamos nodded. “Good. Because those who forget will be hung in Traitor’s Square as an example to others.”

Rojer saw Leesha staring at him with tears in her eyes. When the count turned from the crowd she moved toward him, but he smoothly dodged out of her path, coming up to Gared. “General, ready the men. We’ll move on down the road after dusk, culling the demons as we go.”

Gared punched his chest. “We’ll mow them like grass, Yur Highness.”

Thamos turned to Rojer. “Despite Mistress Leesha’s assurance, I do not wish to see any of the duke’s guests exposed to any undue risk. Will you cast your spells to keep the demons from the carriages?”

Rojer bowed. “Of course, Highness.”

“You must be joking,” Jasin said. “We’re to entrust our lives to that … ?”

Thamos leveled him a look at the edge of patience. “That what?”

It was such a delight, seeing Goldentone squirm. Rojer began to think he might have a chance to come forward after all. Have the Jongleurs’ Guild whisper his villainy in the right ears …

Rojer couldn’t help but twist the knife. “Fear not, Secondsong, the demons will never come near you.” He threw his most mocking smile. “Unless I want them to.”

Rojer knew it was a mistake the moment he said it, but the way Goldentone paled made it worth the risk.

Leesha kept shifted, trying to catch Thamos’ eye, but the count turned the other way striding off. Wooden Soldiers closed at his back, cutting him off from her. She stood frozen a moment, then turned and hurried back inside her carriage.

Leesha stared into the darkness outside the carriage window, and this time Jizell was wise enough to leave her to her thoughts. Behind them, Rojer and Kendall stood on the roof of the motley coach, fiddles at play, while Amanvah and Sikvah sat on the driver’s bench, singing in harmony.

With her warded spectacles, Leesha watched the corelings drifting at the edge of the barrier they created. They could see the caravan—it was too big for even Rojer’s music to hide—and followed its slow passage, but every time they drew too close, pain drove them back.

Leesha could well understand. The sounds coming from the quartet were harsh, discordant things that sent jabs of pain into Leesha’s constant headache until she softened wax to plug her ears.

But even with the world muffled, she could hear the shrieks and shouts as the Cutters and Wooden Soldiers cut a swath through any corelings foolish enough to set foot on the road.

All were aided by Rojer’s quartet. Those needing respite could easily drift back into the safe zone of music, and those in the fight benefited from foes distracted by the painful sounds.

Leesha looked sadly at the demon corpses piled by the roadside to wait for the sun. Moments ago, they were the enemy and it was kill or be killed. Now … now they were batteries, fuel for her spells. She wished she could spare Cutters to harvest the largesse and ship it back to the Hollow, but they needed every Hollower at hand once they reached Angiers. So much hora wasted.