“I faced a flogging if I arrived late. As a recruitment officer, I had three months of leave before my scheduled return. With four weeks of relentless riding to reach Landing’s End, and the need to gather soldiers, I had no evenings to spare.”
“Not one?” I pressed.
“Not one.”
My heart twisted, and I curled into myself. For once in my life, I wasn’t sure he was telling me the truth.
Chapter 5
The soldiers had all horses saddled and ready before dawn. How exactly, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps whoever stood watch roused them.
“Who’s riding the chestnut mare?” I gestured toward the horse being led by Grimm.
“Princess Elspeth,” Sainte said as he held his white gelding for me.
I checked over his men, then my boots, which were still firmly planted on the ground. “Do you have another Princess Elspeth in your pocket there, Captain?” I asked, batting my lashes.
“When you act like a princess, you may ride alone.”
“What, you don’t trust me?” I slapped a hand over my heart in mock betrayal.
“No.”
His expression was empty of all playfulness as he knelt, interlacing his fingers. I heaved a dramatic sigh and stepped into his hands, allowing him to lift me. The horse snorted under my weight, waiting as Sainte slid his boot into the stirrup to mount.
“I’ve ridden two to a saddle before,” I whined, dreading what came next.
“You were smaller then.”
He pushed me forward and found his seat. I huffed and shoved my hips back, fighting for space. It was painful enough, and gods knew how long this man intended to travel today. He shifted his weight as the horse danced beneath us, and I tried to settle in. Luckily, the man wasn’t armored at his crotch, sparing me that challenge. Dealing with his sheer size was plenty to contend with.
After much jostling and cursing on my part, we settled into a somewhat comfortable but shared position in the saddle, each lacking a full seat. My arse nestled against his hips, which sent my stomach fluttering—and annoyed me to no end.
He was in a foul mood as we started out, and it did not improve as time passed. We followed the road for the better part of the day, leaving it around midday. Now and then, his soldiers drifted off, either to scout ahead or to relieve themselves. Sainte and his men had some silent communication. While he sported no badge or indication of rank, it was clear he was the captain of this little troupe.
Soon after we left the path in favor of a game trail, the rush of water rumbled in the distance. It wasn’t a light gurgle, nor was it as loud as the pipes spilling into the ocean in Port Siren. It was a quiet, gentle cadence, and it dawned on me why we veered off the main road.
“We’ll break here.”
“Camp?” I asked.
Though the sun was still high in the sky, the ache in my thighs and lower back had me sincerely hoping this place marked our halt for the night.
“Break,” he repeated. After dismounting, he adjusted his trousers and shook out his legs.
I frowned at his wounded arm, which he held close to his chest. He utilized it, like when he gave me a leg-up, but it clearly caused him considerable discomfort. I would not feel bad about it.
I simply wouldn’t.
Ready to be off the thrice-cursed saddle, I swung over the horse’s rump and lowered myself. My feet flailed, searching for solid ground. Warm hands found my waist as Sainte eased me down.
“I had it.”
“Clearly.”
I disregarded his remark and scanned the small clearing while he tended to his horse. Beyond the lush meadow, the sun’s glint danced on the river’s surface, drawing me closer. The men paid no heed as I navigated through the long, swaying grass and brush.
The river was extensive, so wide I would be hard pressed to throw a stone to the opposite shore, but its water ran clear. Algae-covered stones and waterweeds littered the bottom, swaying in the current, and fish darted away at my shadow.
