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been no women in the fighting gangs he roved with once his mother died. Hardly any girls on the streets at all—most of them gone to true whorehouses, or dead before they were fifteen. Too fragile for the kind of life Justin had led. Once he signed on with the Riders, he’d been astonished to find there were women among them, women as tough and skilled and fearless as he was, but they weren’t female the way this waitress was. They were just people, companions, friends to be absolutely trusted, because they were Riders and because they were good.
     
     
    Then there were Senneth and Kirra—different from all other women in his experience.
     
     
    “I think you’re right. You shouldn’t try to find yourself a girl,” Cammon said. He was laughing again. “Just stay with your original story. Left a noble’s service and came here to look for work.”
     
     
    “I think the stables will do, don’t you? Any reason I shouldn’t work with Delz?”
     
     
    Cammon shook his head. “He seemed honest. Try not to intimidate him too much.”
     
     
    Justin laughed. “Did I? All right, I’ll be friendlier.” He looked around the tavern, which was filling up even more as they sat there. A group of seven men settled at the last empty table, situated just inches away from theirs. “Not too friendly, though. I’m supposed to be surly.”
     
     
    “I think you can pull it off,” Cammon said.
     
     
    Justin laughed again, but a few minutes later they were arguing, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “I’m just telling you that if you would offer him an apology—” Cammon was trying to say, as Justin talked over him.
     
     
    “I won’t say I’m sorry! I didn’t do anything to be ashamed of! A man has a right to stand up to another man even if he is a marlord from one of the Twelve Houses! Times are changing, my friend.”
     
     
    “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
     
     
    Justin nodded darkly. “You’ll see. The marlords think they own the world, think things are always going to go on like they have. But there are people who don’t want to be living on the sufferance of the Twelve Houses. They’re going to take what should have been theirs all along.”
     
     
    Cammon slapped a hand on the table. “I am so tired of all your vague talk of war.”
     
     
    “Well, it won’t be vague for long. You’ll see.”
     
     
    “So—what? You’re just going to keep riding around Gillengaria, looking for other malcontents? Come home, Justin. This can all be worked out.”
     
     
    “No, I won’t come home! You’ve been a good friend to me, but you don’t understand. I’ve left that life. You go on in the morning, but I’m staying here. Or I’ll find some other place. Someplace they’re not in fear of the Twelve Houses,” he added with a snarl.
     
     
    Their quarrel had drawn the attention of the men at the adjoining tables, and from across the room, Justin could see the blond waitress watching them with a worried look. She didn’t seem to like loud, outspoken men. Good.
     
     
    A patron sitting with the group of seven now leaned over to give Justin a nod and a serious look. “Plenty of men in Neft who aren’t afraid of the marlords,” he said. “This’d be a good place to settle down.”
     
     
    “Well, if I can find work,” Justin said crossly.
     
     
    “Always looking for men over at the convent,” one of his tablemates said. “Any good with a sword?”
     
     
    “I can fight some,” Justin said. “But I just left one civil guard. Don’t feel like shackling myself to a captain again anytime soon.”
     
     
    “Other work to be had in Neft,” the first man said. “Good place to be—if war really does come.”
     
     
    Justin lifted his glass in a toast. “Oh, it’ll come,” he said. “About time, too.”
     
     
    The other men raised their glasses and drank in agreement, then turned back to their own conversation. Justin caught Cammon’s eye and nodded