day I deserve to be robbed.”
They passed the wagon, Tyn tying on her belt.
“What if they are bandits?” Shallan hissed once they were out of earshot.
“I thought you said you could handle four.”
“I was just going along with your attitude!”
“That’s dangerous, kid,” Tyn said with a grin. “Look, bandits wouldn’t let us see them, and they certainly wouldn’t just sit there.”
The group of four men waited on the top of the hill. As Shallan drew closer, she could see that they were wearing crisp blue uniforms that looked quite genuine. At the bottom of the ravine between hills, Shallan stubbed her toe on a rockbud. She grimaced—Macob had given her lighteyed shoes to match her dress. They were luxurious, and probably worth a fortune, but they were little more than slippers.
“We’ll wait here,” Shallan said. “They can come to us.”
“Sounds good to me,” Tyn said. Indeed, up above, the men started moving down the hillside when they noticed Shallan and Tyn were waiting for them. Two more came and followed after them on foot, men not in uniforms, but workers’ clothing. Grooms?
“Who are you going to be?” Tyn asked softly.
“. . . Myself?” Shallan replied.
“What’s the fun in that?” Tyn said. “How’s your Horneater?”
“Horneater! I—”
“Too late,” Tyn said as the men rode up.
Shallan found horses intimidating. The large brutish things weren’t docile like chulls. Horses were always stomping about, snorting.
The lead rider reined in his horse with some obvious annoyance. He didn’t seem in complete control of the beast. “Brightness,” he said, nodding to her as he saw her eyes. Shockingly, he was darkeyed, a tall man with black Alethi hair he wore down to his shoulders. He looked over Tyn, noting the sword and the soldier’s uniform, but let slip no reaction. A hard man, this one.
“Her Highness,” Tyn announced in a loud voice, gesturing toward Shallan, “Princess Unulukuak’kina’autu’atai! You are in the presence of royalty, darkeyes!”
“A Horneater?” the man said, leaning down, inspecting Shallan’s red hair. “Wearing a Vorin dress. Rock would have a fit.”
Tyn looked to Shallan and raised an eyebrow.
I’m going to strangle you, woman, Shallan thought, then took a deep breath. “This thing,” Shallan said, gesturing at her dress. “He is not what you have a princess wear? He is good for me. You will be respect!” Fortunately, her red face would fit for a Horneater. They were a passionate people.
Tyn nodded to her, looking appreciative.
“I’m sorry,” the man said, though he didn’t seem very apologetic. What was a darkeyes doing riding an animal of such value? One of the man’s companions was inspecting the caravan through a spyglass. He was darkeyed too, but looked more comfortable on his mount.
“Seven wagons, Kal,” the man said. “Well guarded.”
The man, Kal, nodded. “I’ve been sent out to look for signs of bandits,” he said to Tyn. “Has all been well with your caravan?”
“We ran into some bandits three weeks ago,” Tyn said, thumbing over her shoulder. “Why do you care?”
“We represent the king,” the man said. “And are from the personal guard of Dalinar Kholin.”
Oh, storms. Well, that was going to be inconvenient.
“Brightlord Kholin,” Kal continued, “is investigating the possibility of a wider range of control around the Shattered Plains. If you really were attacked, I would like to know the details.”
“If we were attacked?” Shallan asked. “You doubt our word?”
“No—”
“I am offend!” Shallan declared, folding her arms.
“You’d better watch yourself,” Tyn told the men. “Her Highness does not like to be offended.”
“How surprising,” Kal said. “Where did the attack take place? You fought it off? How many bandits were there?”
Tyn filled him in on the details, which gave Shallan a chance to think. Dalinar Kholin was her future father-in-law, if the causal matured into a marriage. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into these particular soldiers again.
I really am going to strangle you, Tyn. . . .
Their leader listened to the details of the attack with a stoic air. He didn’t seem like a very pleasant man.
“I am sorry to hear of your losses,” Kal said. “But you’re only a day and a half by caravan from the Shattered Plains now. You should be safe the rest of the way.”
“I am curiosity,” Shallan said. “These animals, they are horses? Yet you are darkeyed. This . . . Kholin trusts you well.”
“I do my duty,” Kal said, studying her. “Where are the rest of your people? That caravan looks as if it’s all Vorin. Also, you look a little spindly for a Horneater.”
“Did you just insult the princess’s weight?”