47
Children and Traitors
“Send Steward Waters out!” Storm yelled, planting herself at the center of the bridge. “I wish to treat with him, and I will not speak to another.”
“Got a message for him, do ya? From who, girl?” a guard, who’d been standing on the other end chatting with the blacksmith, called. They both laughed and returned to their conversation. As if there wasn’t a war brewing just beyond their doorstep.
Storm smirked, squaring her stance. Oakenwell’s armor lay in a heap at her feet. “From Lord Warwick of the Southerlands!”
The men stopped talking. They passed their astonishment between them.
Oakenwell tensed in front of her. “What did I tell you? They’ll kill you, and then me.”
“As long as they kill you first, I don’t see the problem. I’m fast,” Storm said, voice low. “
