Kard shook his head.
“I know Iko expects to lose some of their cargos, but if they lose too many, the exchange can’t keep operating. Someone else will probably take over in Odar, but I know Doka likes Iko, so I’d rather get it back if we can.”
There wasn’t anything in the camp that stood out as a hiding spot for treasure. The only thing that drew Teer’s eye was one tent that was slightly larger than the others and made of nicer fabric.
“Figure that’s Boulder’s tent,” he told Kard, pointing. “Not sure where else to look for their loot.”
“I’ll check,” Kard replied. “Need you to do something else.”
The El-Spehari put his hand on Teer’s shoulder and pointed to the body by the fire.
“We need to deliver the body to get paid,” Kard told him. “I need you to find a sack and bag him up. We don’t want to be looking at his ugly mug all the way.”
Teer swallowed grimly but nodded.
“Trying not to think about it too much,” he admitted.
“Better to face it and deal,” Kard said. “You likely saved my life today, Teer. I think I get how Boulder lived as long as he did—he was fast. I’ve met faster, but I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Wasn’t faster than a bullet,” Teer whispered, trying for bravado. He figured he mostly just sounded tired, but the effort was there.
“Or you,” the older man agreed. “Bag him up, Teer. I’ll check his tent and see what I can find. Keep one eye on them.” He nodded towards the tied-up gang. Most of them had managed to get onto their sides or backs and were at least pretending to sleep. “Boulder’s head is worth more than them all combined, but I’d rather bring them all in. No innocents in this lot.”
“No, sir,” Teer said. “I’ll watch them.”
“Good. Let’s hope we find what we’re after. They’ve got to have a big sack in the homesteading wagon; that should serve.”
Kard’s guess proved correct. Teer figured the large sacks in the roll were intended for potatoes or similar, but they were definitely big enough to fit a man in. He peeled three of them off the roll—one because he’d screw up the first one inevitably and one to have laid out as an unspoken threat to the prisoners.
He was probably putting too much thought into that, but he was very aware that there were seven tied-up bandits and just the two of them. Carlon was almost three days’ ride away. From what he’d heard, it was one of the largest wardtowns out this far east.
Teer was looking forward to it. It had been over ten turnings since he’d seen any town larger than Alvid. If he’d taken Ohlman’s offer, he’d have seen several larger wardtowns—Carlon would have been one of them, but the biggest would have been Shiaray, the end of the dragon lines.
Instead he was here, in the middle of nowhere, laying massive sacks down next to a dead man. Boulder had been even bigger than he’d thought, with several inches on Teer’s own height and much heavier set.
The head was intact, but the torso was a mess. Teer’s round had entered through the front of Boulder’s shoulder and emerged through the back of the man’s ribs. He figured it had severed the spine along the way, as clean a kill as could be managed.
Teer didn’t disagree that Boulder had deserved to die—seeing the three women after they’d been cut free had solidified that decision in his head—but he felt better that the man had probably died without much pain.
Getting Boulder’s corpse into the bag was both easier than he’d feared and far worse than he’d expected. The literal dead weight was easy enough to move, and the big sack slid over the body smoothly enough. The sensation of dead flesh under his hands and the candlemark-old blood sticking to his hands was worse.
Much worse. He’d butchered deer and cattle before, but it was different knowing that this had been a man…a man he had killed.
He managed to get the corpse into the sack. Then he calmly rose, walked away from the prisoners into the bushes where he hoped they couldn’t see him, and threw up.
Kard was waiting when he returned, the older bounty hunter sewing up the top of the sack with a heavy needle he’d presumably found somewhere.
“Parts of it get easier,” he said calmly as Teer rejoined him. “Parts get worse. I’m a bit sorry you ended up in this life without any training.”
“There were no other choices,” Teer said. “Did you find the coach’s cargo?”
“Found a bunch of redcrystal and gold nuggets,” Kard confirmed. “Boulder had a neat little Spehari toy: saddlebag that was bigger on the inside.”
He glanced over at the prisoners.
“Locked so they couldn’t get in, of course,” he continued, his voice much quieter. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Iko’s partners in Carlon should pay us for bringing it back.”
Teer nodded, eyeing the fire and the bandits alike.
“Guessing it’s not worth us keeping it?” he asked. A hundred stone was a lot of money, after all. More than Hardin cleared in profit each turning on the ranch.
“Boulder likely had the connections to sell it without trouble,” Kard said. “I don’t. Better to take a reward and build goodwill than get ourselves known as the type of bounty hunters who don’t return stolen goods.”
“Known by who?” Teer asked.
“Wardtowns talk to each other,” the El-Spehari told him. “Any wardstone can send a message to another wardstone, and they do. All the time. You didn’t know that?”
“I… No,” Teer admitted, feeling dumb. “Guess it wasn’t relevant.”
“Can’t send long letters by wardstone relay, just a few words, but it helps keep everything together.” Kard shook his head. “Sunset underestimated how much even that little let the Unity move around where he wasn’t looking.”
Teer looked
