My breathing and heart rate slow, growing more measured with the dragon’s approach. I’m aware of everything around me. The breeze that reaches me even in the midst of the bushes hiding us, a whisper across my skin; the hint of jasmine in the air, fresh and refreshing; the sun filtering through the leaves to surround us with a quilt of color.
I don’t intend to send my thoughts toward the beast, but when I realize they’re reaching out, I don’t pull them back. I can feel his anguish and grief. He needs comfort, strength, hope. Maybe I can offer some.
He’s confused at first, a hint of fear crossing his face. But in an instant, it’s replaced with curiosity and then something close to peace. His head stays still even as his gaze spins to search for me, piercing through the leaves and branches to capture mine. And then he slowly, intentionally, blinks at me. The only sign of thanks he dares to give. He felt my touch. He’s grateful.
The dragon continues to warble, but I can tell it’s for his captor’s benefit. He fears for us. We shouldn’t have seen his trauma. If he reveals our presence, we’ll be condemned to death.
Fifteen minutes after they pass, Fhord stands, his hand dropping down to help me get up. I take it, grateful for a brief truce between us. We won’t be friends, but maybe we don’t need to be enemies.
“Are you okay, Sifa?” His tone is gentle, soothing.
“I am,” I assure him, looking in the direction they left. “I’ve heard screams like that before but didn’t know they came from a dragon. I was scared of them when it was some nameless creature. It helps to know the source.”
“They’re not supposed to be here. Nobody outside the Nests is supposed to know about this part of their training.”
I spin to stare at him. “Training? This is part of dragon training?” I can feel a burn in the back of my throat as my heart rate again spins out of control. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not. I don’t like it, but it’s necessary.” He holds up a hand as I open my mouth to respond. “We can talk about this later if you want, but I’d rather get away from here. If they discover us, learn what you’ve seen, they’ll mark both of us for execution. Let’s keep going. When we get set up for the night, I’ll answer a few questions.”
I watch him for a moment, willing my body to calm down. I don’t know enough to be so angry. Yet. “Fine,” I say at last.
Fhord leads us away at a fast pace. He must be more worried than he wants to admit. We ride for at least an hour, Hilde struggling to keep up with the younger stallion, before he slows down. But we don’t stop yet.
Finally, hours after we started, I can’t go on any longer. “Fhord,” I yell out. He’s more than two dragon’s-lengths ahead of me, and Hilde needs a break.
Sigurd yanks to a halt, his rider spinning in his seat to look back. He watches for a few seconds as we approach and then dips his head. “Your mount needs to rest.”
“Ya think?” I don’t want my voice to hold as much disdain as it does, but I’m tired and hungry.
Fhord spins and points his chin at a nearby clearing. “We can stop there for lunch. There’s a stream to water the horses.”
He takes off again, our momentary proximity apparently too much for him to take. Shaking my head, I nudge Hilde to follow. She walks in their direction, in no bigger hurry than me. Smart horse.
Fhord can’t avoid me at the creek. He’s already removed Sigurd’s harness and watered him. I do the same with Hilde, then follow him to a part of the meadow hidden in shadows. We tie the horses near a generous supply of grass then find boulders for our table. He’s stuck with me while we eat.
“It’s not much, but we’ll have a better meal when we stop for the night,” he says as he hands me jerky and some dried fruit and nuts.
“Will we be at another inn tonight?” I’m looking forward to a hot bath and a warm bed.
“No. Tonight we pitch a tent.” Fhord’s not even looking in my direction, like he can’t bear the sight of me.
“A tent? As in one?” The gods cannot expect me to share a tent with this man.
“Yes, we carry only one tent.”
They do.The bastards.
“You can’t stand to be in the same room as me. How will you survive sharing a tent?”
Fhord turns his head slowly. His green eyes are as dark as the forest around us. “I’ll manage.”
I watch him for a moment. Fine. If this is what we need to do, we will. “I want to talk about what happened. Why that dragon was being tortured.”
“Not now.” Fhord’s response is clipped, almost angry.
“You told me we’d talk about it.”
“Tonight.” He stands and starts to stalk toward Sigurd. “Finish your meal. We leave in five minutes.”
