Chapter 12 — Strange Company

They didn't chain me, just kept the ropes tight and a spear always close. Merlin was tied to a post, his rope long enough for him to lie down. He slept most of the day, shallow and restless, but every time I moved too far from him his eyes opened, sharp and wary.

The camp was loud. Men argued over loot, women sharpened blades, children ran barefoot between tents carrying scraps. Fires smoked constantly, the smell of burned meat and unwashed bodies clinging to everything.

I sat where they told me. Watched. Listened.

Tov flitted around like a bird, never still. One moment carrying a pot, the next rifling through a pouch he had no business touching. He always had a grin ready, but I noticed how the others cursed him without heat. He annoyed them, but they let him live.

Late that afternoon, as the sun sank violet through the trees, a woman passing by stopped to stare at me. Her eyes dragged down to my boots.

"Look at those," she muttered, half to herself. "Leather, neat stitches, not even cracked. You're no farmer."

Another joined her, pointing at my jeans. "What cloth is that? Not homespun. Too tight, too smooth. You some noble's son slumming it?"

I shook my head. "Just clothes."

Their gazes shifted upward. Hoodie, shirt, hat. The taller one snorted. "That thing on your head—what, a helm for shepherds?"

"It's a Stetson," I said before I could stop myself.

They laughed, shaking their heads as they walked off. To them I was dressed like a fool—cloth too fine, boots too perfect, a strange hat that meant nothing.

Tov slid in beside me as they left, smirking. "See? Already making friends. Give it a week, they'll be fighting over your shirt."

I shot him a look. "That supposed to be funny?"

"Supposed to be true," he said, grinning wider. "And don't get me started on those boots. Half the camp would kill for them. I'd kill for them, if you weren't so tall."

I didn't laugh. I just pulled my knees up, ropes biting, and kept my eyes on Merlin.

The dog shifted, ears twitching, then settled again.

— Third day, night in the bandit camp —

The camp bustled around us, loud and filthy and alien. And I sat there in my jeans and boots, my hoodie and hat, as strange to them as Merlin was.