06 - Rule of Thieves Read Free Page B

Terrac, Dradac had known me better than anyone.
    Marik called out to him as we approached. When Dradac looked up to see me, surprise crossed his face, swiftly followed by a broad grin. He ran to meet us. I briefly thought he meant to lift me off the ground in a hug. It wouldn’t be hard to do since he stood a couple of feet taller than ordinary people. But perhaps remembering at the last moment that I wasn’t a small child anymore, he merely rested a welcoming hand on my shoulder instead.
    “So you’ve come back to us, have you, Little Dog?” he asked warmly. “I thought your travels out in the big world might make Dimmingwood too small to hold you anymore.”
    “I saw nothing from the provincial border to the coast to compare with home,” I said, meaning it. “Besides, I had commitments to bring me back.”
    That was dangerously close to mentioning the Praetor, whose service I had been pressed into a year ago, so I changed the subject quickly. “I see Dead Man’s Fall is the new Red Rock,” I said, looking around me.
    “So it has been since you left,” Dradac answered. “Would you like me to show you around? There’s a few folk here who’ll be glad to see you. Javen, Ada, and others speak of you often.”
    “First, you might have to reassure this pair that I’m trustworthy.” I jerked my head toward my escorts hovering nearby. “I introduced myself real polite when they jumped me, but I have a feeling the girl still wants to stick a knife in me.”
    “Nah, Fallon looks that way all the time,” he reassured me. “It’s only when she’s smiling you’ve got to watch yourself.”
    At his nod, Marik and Fallon faded into the trees, the blond girl shooting me one last warning scowl before disappearing.
    “Our little band of criminal outcasts has shrunk since Rideon’s death,” said Dradac as he walked me around the camp. “A few newcomers like Fallon have taken the place of some who left, but our numbers aren’t what they used to be.”
    “Why is that? It’s not as if they were left leaderless.”
    The big man shrugged broad shoulders. “I’ve done my best, but I’m no Red Hand. He had a way of drawing people in and making them stay. But we took losses during the Skeltai war. Despite the Praetor’s promise of pardon, he never made good on that agreement for any outlaw but you. For the rest of us, our alliance with the Praetor ended with the war and Rideon’s hanging. After that, some of our people drifted away.” His tone lightened. “But not to worry. You’ll still see plenty of familiar face to welcome you.”
    He was right. Many outlaws stopped their work around the camp and came over to greet me in passing. It was good to see I hadn’t been forgotten. I talked with old friends and admired the setup of their new camp. But I didn’t suggest any improvements. There was a time at the height of the Skeltai skirmishes when some of these men had been part of my inner circle and had looked to me as a leader. But Dradac was the captain of this ship now, and I was careful to show that I wouldn’t have it any other way.
    “So, are you really back for good?” the giant asked when we were finally alone. He had brought me into the semishelter of a vast, leaning rock with a flimsy wall of netting covered in leaves.
    “Yes and no,” I said, taking a seat cross-legged on the ground. “I’m in the province permanently, but I cannot stay in Dimmingwood. At least, not right now.”
    It was a question I had been trying not to consider. It was so good to be back in old company that I found myself reluctant to introduce the tense topic. But I had to.
    I said, “The Praetor treated the outlaws poorly after our help fighting the Skeltai.”
    “That’s an understatement.” Dradac snorted. “He turned his back on our alliance and returned to hunting and hanging us. Not that any of us were greatly surprised. I don’t think anyone here really believed we’d see the promised pardon for our