When Ravens Call: The Fourth Book in the Small Gods Epic Fantasy Series (The Books of the Small Gods

world in her hand, and she was about to give it up to two toothless, unkempt brigands in the middle of nowhere.
"Don't—" Evalal whispered, her word cut off by her captor squeezing her tighter.
No one else spoke. They stood for a long stretch of heartbeats, the belt swaying in Danya's grasp as the first man stared at the pouch and she watched him staring. They might have remained stationary longer if not for the interrupting crunch of a boot heel on dirt.
The brigand diverted his gaze down the road toward the sound, then Danya did the same.
She recognized the tall, slender fellow right away. They'd met the weapons merchants before leaving the inn. Which one was he? Fellick or Ive?
And where is the other?
The princess cast her gaze behind him, looking back along the dirt track, but saw nothing. No wagon bearing swords and axes, and no stocky partner standing in the lane.
"Halt yourself where you are," the man holding the short sword said. He'd developed a quiver in his arm enough to shake the tip of his sword. "Ain't a thing here concerns you. Turn around and walk away."
The tall fellow continued toward them for ten more paces before halting. For someone who looked far from imposing and dangerous and appeared to have no weapon, he carried himself with a great deal of confidence.
"I beg to differ. I presume the two of you must be Jon and John? What other set of twins does one find along this stretch of road?"
"Aye, that we are," Evalal's captor said, pride noticeable in his tone. "You've heard of us."
"I have," he conceded. "And do you know who I am?"
Twig beard nodded. "You're the weapons merchant. You pass this way often."
"I do. And what's my name?"
His gaze held the man with the short sword as though he looked right into the fellow instead of at him. The subject of his intensity swallowed hard, throat clicking.
"Ive."
"Correct. Of Fellick and Ive. Do you understand my meaning?"
Danya wasn't sure what she was watching transpire. Her gaze trailed from the weapons merchant to first the one Jon, then the other. Both men's eyes flickered away, searching along the road or into the forest beside it.
"I'll happily answer for you, gentlemen. It means Mr. Fellick is near. My friend and business partner is never far. You'll not want to anger him, I believe. He's a good man, but I'm afraid an ill temper is a shortfall of his." Ive shook his head and clicked his tongue. "He has such trouble controlling it."
The weapons merchant wore a bemused smirk; despite being outnumbered, he knew he'd won the exchange by mentioning his partner. The two brigands appeared resigned to end the standoff, but they both remained a measure too wild-eyed for Danya's liking. Would they let it finish with a whimper, skulking away with nothing to show for their efforts, or leave in a splash of blood and chaos? Though the knife the second man held was small, it looked sharp, its point deadly. The muscles in her body tensed, turning her rigid; she clenched her fists so tight, her nails dug into the palms of her hands. Her knees bent, ready to launch her toward Evalal should he make the wrong move.
But the girl must have noted the change in Danya's attitude. She caught the princess' eye and shook her head ever so slightly. The air crackled briefly with the indecision of the two men, then the first lowered his arm, the tip of the sword drooping until it pointed at the ground. The bit of his cheeks visible above his beard had turned red, and he appeared to find it difficult to keep his gaze on one subject for more than a second.
"Let the young ladies go and take your leave and I'm sure Mr. Fellick's mood will not sour."
Jon with the sword looked to his brother, nodded once, and backed away. He didn't raise his weapon again, but neither did he return it to its place at his belt. His companion lowered his knife, pushed Evalal from him as he followed his twin's retreat. The girl stumbled, but Danya got to her before she fell, catching her under the arms and keeping her on her feet. The sudden action with her body already so tense forced a knot beneath her shoulder blade. She winced at the pain, but the relief of her companion's safety made her forget it.
After retreating five or six paces, the two would-be thieves turned and ran, veering off the road and into the woods. They thrashed through the brush, their figures disappearing amongst the foliage long before the sound of their passing faded.
"Are you alright?"
Evalal nodded as she stood upright and brushed off the front of her smock with the palms of both hands. "Goddess protected me, as she does."
Behind them, the tall man snorted. "No one has called me a Goddess before."
The girl's mouth tilted in a smile reminding Danya of the patient expression of a parent explaining something to a child who couldn't understand. The princess strapped her sword belt back around her waist as her companion took the time to set the weapons merchant straight.
"No, you are not a goddess, Mr. Ive, but, whether it is within your awareness, Goddess' will brought you here."
"I am a merchant. This is a merchant road. Look close enough and you'll find the tracks of my wagon's wheels in these ruts."
"Of course. But to be here today, at this moment—Goddess' work."
Ive waved his hand, dismissing her assertion. "Yes, yes. Goddess looks out for her sheep. And yet it's common to have mutton for dinner, isn't it?"
Evalal's smile did not fade, but the princess saw a change in her companion's eyes. Not resignation—a man of the weapons merchant's ilk couldn't sway her faith—but a