Baltimore barked a laugh so hard it made one of the horses whinny. "Hah! Still sharp as ever. But no, my friend. That's called a debt—and one you incurred. I'm just here to collect what's mine. Lawfully."
He leaned further out the window. "Still, I'm no villain. Come, ride with me. The road to Mira is still a few hours on foot—and I imagine your legs could use a break."
Timur glanced at the others. Gorak shrugged noncommittally. Robin looked unbothered. Melisande already seemed halfway convinced.
"We shouldn't trouble a baron," Gorak rumbled.
"Nonsense," Baltimore waved him off. "I insist. Besides—" His eyes roamed the group. "Where's Fredrick? Thompson? And the rest of the gang?"
The question landed with a thud.
Timur's jaw clenched, and for a moment he didn't speak. He didn't have to.
The look in his eyes—the shadow behind the scowl—was answer enough.
Baltimore's smile faltered. "Ah…" he said, softer. "I… see. I apologize."
