Finally, as the sun was setting, Marcus 'killed' all my body guards, and I was facing my 'attacker' alone. Prest grinned at me as he lay dead at my feet. I looked over at Marcus, who stood there with two daggers, threatening me. "Now what?"
He tilted his head under that cloak, and glared at me. "What can you do?"
"I don't know!" Frustrated, I glared back at him.
Ander had managed to 'die' face down, and looked like he was taking a nap. "Look for a weakness," he whispered to me.
Weakness? Marcus had already proved he was deadly with those daggers, so what weakness did he have?
Marcus rolled his one eye at me.
Oh.
I darted over to his left, trying to get into his blind spot. But Marcus just pivoted to face me, keeping me in sight. I stopped, frustrated. "What good does that do?"
"Keeps him moving, keeps him from throwing his daggers," Yveni responded. She was laying on the ground, chewing a piece of grass, watching the perimeter. Rafe was seated a distance away, watching in the other direction.
"You could try rushing him, getting him to move away from you. Use our bodies to try to trip him up," Ander offered.
"Throw things," Prest added. I looked at my satchel on my hip, and nodded.
"You must take advantage of any weakness." Marcus gestured at his face. "Mine is my blind side, Warprize. If you can blind a person with one of your mixtures, do it. It may be all that stands between you and death. Yes?"
"I will, Marcus."
"More important, if all your guards are down, where else can you look for help?" Marcus growled. I eyed him nervously. I still remembered the 'lesson' he'd given me before, when he'd overborne me to the ground, and held a dagger to my throat. "The army?"
Marcus snorted.
Rafe caught my eye and jerked his thumb in the direction of our horses.
"The horses?" I looked over where our mounts were standing, waiting patiently. They were grazing, except of course for my Greatheart. He was fast asleep, his one hip cocked to the side, his head hanging down. As usual.
"The horses." Marcus sheathed his daggers within the darkness of his cloak as the others stood, brushing themselves off. "Get to a horse, leap to its back, and it will take you out of danger."
"If she could ride." Prest said calmly.
I glared at him, but they were all smiling. It was an old joke now, but in their eyes, it was true. I wasn't born in a saddle, like the people of the Plains, and to them my riding skills were horrible. But I could ride. Leaping into a saddle, however…
"But that lesson can wait," Marcus announced. "Hisself will be making camp soon, and the meal will not make itself." He headed toward the horses.
Thankful for the reprieve, I followed with my guards.
Since we'd resumed our march to the Plains, Keir had made some changes to my sleeping arrangements. My tent was a bit bigger now, enough that I could stand upright in it. He'd arranged extra padding for my bedding. It was saddle blankets folded and piled high, which made a very comfortable mattress. They were made from some kind of wool that I didn't recognize, but knew from its use in camp. But the biggest change, and the best change, was that I slept within his arms every night. When we'd left Water's Fall, Keir had continued his practice of moving up and down the length of his army, in sight of his warriors and dealing with their morale. He'd left me in the center, where he'd thought I'd be better protected. But that had meant many nights of separation.
But now, with the events of Wellspring behind us, I traveled with him. Neither one of us wanted to be apart for any length of time. He continued to work with his warriors, of course, disappearing during the day to deal with any problems that arose. But every night he returned to our bed. To my arms. To me. This night would be no different.
Marcus bustled about, keeping an eye on the warriors that set up our tent, and cooking over an open fire at the same time. I sat close to his fire, watching as he worked. Rafe and Prest had gone off to see to their own camps but Ander and Yveni remained, keeping watch over me. Once Keir arrived, they'd leave as well. While Keir circled our tent with guards, they stayed well back now, giving me an illusion of a bit of privacy.
Firelander had a very different attitude toward privacy then the customs I was raised with. For them bathing together and strolling nude was the custom, with no regard for modesty, even between men and women. As Joden had pointed out to me, there was little privacy to be found in the tents of the Firelander.
I sighed. Joden was something else I didn't want to think about.
In the overnight camps, no one wasted time cutting down trees for seats. Instead, we used the saddle blankets as pads. Dirt and moisture seemed to fall right off the odd wool. Seated by the fire, with a cloak over my shoulders, I was comfortably warm. Winter had moved into the mountains, and while we were moving down onto the Plains, frost still nipped at our heels. The sky was clear, it would be cold tonight. Marcus was cutting meat and brewing kavage and would tolerate no help from me. I was too tired to do much more than sit. So I pulled my satchel close and opened the flap. I'd been using it since—
Since Gils died.
My hands stilled on the scarred leather. Gils was the young Firelander who'd asked to be my apprentice, breaking the traditions of his people. The image of his freckled face and red curls flashed before me. He'd been so young, so eager, with dancing green eyes and that cheeky grin. I closed my eyes, and fought my tears.Goddess, hold him close.
