Free Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) by Sharon Shinn Page B

encompassed. “How’d you end up in their care?” she said, making the last word ironic.
     
     
    “Howard’s our stepbrother,” Ginny said. “Our mother died last year.” She shrugged, letting Wen fill in what detail she wanted. “For a while, Howard took jobs as a driver or a farm worker, but he couldn’t keep them. The last few weeks we’ve mostly been on the road. Like this.”
     
     
    “This is the worst,” the boy said.
     
     
    “Like Bryce said,” Ginny added, “it’s good that they’re dead.”
     
     
    Wen drew a deep breath. “Yes. I suppose it is. Now the question is: What do we do with the two of you?”
     
     
    Bryce looked up at her expectantly, his big eyes confident. Why is he so sure I’ll help them? Wen thought irritably. But Ginny’s face maintained its sober adult expression.
     
     
    “We can take care of ourselves,” she said. “Thank you for your assistance but we don’t need you anymore.”
     
     
    Bryce gave his sister an indignant look. “Yes, we do! We don’t have money, or water, or food , and we don’t know where to go, and—”
     
     
    “We’ll find our way,” Ginny said in a hard voice.
     
     
    “Well, you don’t have to,” Wen said briskly. “I’m here, and I’m used to taking over when the situation looks dicey.” Ginny opened her mouth as if to argue, and Wen grinned at her. “Don’t even think about trying to get rid of me,” she advised. “Didn’t you see me take on your stepbrother and those men? Can’t you tell I’m a fighter?”
     
     
    “We don’t need you,” Ginny repeated.
     
     
    “Don’t listen to her,” Bryce said. “We really do.”
     
     
    Wen glanced around. Nothing at the campsite except a couple of dead bodies and one threadbare duffel bag, which probably held everything the siblings owned. “I thought I heard that other fellow ride away,” she said. “Are there more horses? They’d be useful.”
     
     
    Bryce nodded eagerly. “Two more.” His face fell. “We can’t ride, though.”
     
     
    “You’ll figure it out quick enough,” she said unsympathetically. “You go get the horses, bring them here. I’ll check these two and see if they’re carrying anything that looks interesting. Then we’ll travel a little way from here and make camp.” It was closing in on night; they’d be doing all this in darkness if they didn’t hurry. She glanced around. “ ’Cause I don’t think any of us wants to try to sleep tonight anywhere close to these fellows.”
     
     
    “Rather sleep next to them dead than alive,” Bryce muttered.
     
     
    Ginny hissed at him but he made a face, wholly unrepentant. Wen tried not to grin. “Go get the horses,” she repeated.
     
     
    As soon as they moved off, Ginny lecturing Bryce in a low voice, Wen bent over the bodies. The weapons weren’t good enough to keep, but one of the men had a purse full of money. Mostly copper coins, a few silver ones. Whether this was the stepbrother or his associate, the money would still serve as something of an inheritance for the orphans, Wen thought. The other one had a few more coins in his pocket, and a belt with a fine silver buckle, worth pawning somewhere. Wen snaked it off his body and rubbed the leather in the grass to clean off the blood.
     
     
    The children returned in about ten minutes with the horses. Both looked rather the worse for age and ill-treatment, and one of them kept shying at the halter, trying to bite Bryce. Wen sighed silently. She’d have to let one or both of the children ride her own well-mannered gelding while she forced one of these hardmouthed brutes to accept her commands. Tomorrow looked like an even less pleasant travel day than today.
     
     
    Although today was at least proving to be more interesting than she’d anticipated. She was actually feeling pretty good, she realized. Pleased with herself for effecting another rescue. For having something worthwhile to do. Pleased at the prospect of having