His eyes met Johanna’s. They were cold, calculating. She feared that he knew exactly who she and Roald were. If he came regularly to the towns on the Rede River, he might know the Lady Sara or the Brouwer Company flag. He would certainly recognise the marks of the Saarlander royal family, and if not . . . the bandits only needed to search their prisoners, and they would find the ring on the chain around Johanna’s neck, and they would find the Carmine crest on Roald’s underclothes.
Roald said, “I was only going to protect you from that man. You don’t want me to say anything?”
“Don’t say anything if it isn’t necessary.”
“I was only trying to answer the brute’s questions.”
“They are not our friends. We don’t answer questions.”
“But Mother says it’s polite to—”
“We don’t need to be polit
