Ruben’s grin widens. ‘You’re amazing.’
His stark admiration makes me shift uncomfortably.
He notes it, so he continues with a slight topic change. ‘I heard there were some Rettlings whose bodies were never found after the Afaven trial,’ Ruben rambles on. ‘There were all these crazy rumours running around the slums about how they were killed by dire wolves who then ate every single piece of them, including their bones.’
I wince. To Ruben, all of it is salacious, hypothetical gossip, but he’s talking about our friends, or at least fellow Rettlings.
I cast about for a way to change the topic from the Retterheld. ‘Rohan would blame the Sannings,’ I say loudly to Caz, my voice forced with lightness. ‘Isn’t that what he called the mythical people who once lived in the forest?’
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ she replies, but doesn’t bother looking at me as she speaks. Instead, her eyes are solely on Benny, her lips soft in sympathy.
My stomach twists. I was trying to lighten things and stop Ruben’s intrusive thoughts, but I realise now that it was a pointless attempt. Benny wears Loch’s shadow on his shoulders like he wears the loss of all the other Rettlings from the Eastern Isles.
Deep down, I don’t think any of us expected Loch to make it to the end. Not after he started acting so strangely, muttering to himself and twitching. It felt like he was on borrowed time. His body was never found after the Afaven trial.
‘Come on,’ Benny says, kicking his heels into his steed and urging her into a canter. ‘We’re never going to get anywhere at this rate. The Festroin lakes should be just up ahead.’
He’s right, and I’m dying to press on, to make real progress.
I thought after the Retterheld that every muscle of my body had been tested and strengthened, but apparently the inside of my thighs weren’t prepared for being stretched like this for any substantial length of time, even more so for riding pillion with Caz.When evening draws in and we set up camp, my muscles are in agony.
The forest is in view but still several hours’ ride away, and no matter how much I want to carry on, I need to think rationally. Elska might beable to protect us from any wolves or threats out there, but the horses would be walking blind over less-than-even terrain.
Instead of pressing forward, we make camp by the lakeside, tether the horses, and set up a fire. When that’s done, we start on the leftover deer meat and some of the rations from Kyor’s packs.
The gentle lapping of the water on the shore helps ease some tension, even if it does nothing to soothe my throbbing muscles.
Mother’s ring isn’t going anywhere, I rationalise. Not if it’s still there after all this time. It’ll be there tomorrow as surely as it was there yesterday.
Yet even as I think that, it feels like I’m somehow lying to myself, and the urge to press on rises again.
It’s an effort to tamp it down. If I were alone, I would ride on, but I’m not. I have to think of the others. Of the horses. We need rest, all of us.
I try to distract myself by thinking of other things. Of Kay and William.
My sister is pregnant. The reality of it, and the fact that I’m not there for her, has barely had a chance to sink in. I can’t imagine there is any sign of the pregnancy yet, but I wonder if she is suffering from sickness or is one of those who simply grows more radiant. Knowing Kay, it will be the latter.
As for William, nerves fill my stomach as I pray to the Gods that he has kept his head down. Kept Artur’s trust firmly in place and kept those marks on his skin hidden. Because if he hasn’t … all the magic in Morathka won’t be able to save him.
As Benny passes me some cooked meat, I focus on the here and now, absentmindedly rubbing the inside of my thighs, hoping to ease the aching. I have some pain-reliever tonics with me, but it seems foolish to squander them on this when far worse may await us in the future.
‘Want any help with that?’ Ruben says, nodding towards my legs.
Across the fire, Kyor goes utterly rigid.
I raise my eyebrows. ‘I’m pretty sure Kyor would skewer you if you started massaging my inner thighs right now.’
I’m surprised by the blush that colours Ruben’s cheeks.
‘I wasn’t saying … I was …’ His voice cracks. ‘It’s the heat from my hands – it can help with pain. When Mum struggled with her knees, it helped bring her a bit of relief.’
‘She doesn’t need a massage,’ Kyor says tightly as he stands and crosses to me. ‘She needs to stretch the muscles out. A workout will help.’
I sigh. ‘A workout, now?’
‘Would you refuse if it were Zelle telling you to practise?’
It’s a low fucking blow, but Kyor’s right. When Zelle told me to work out, I did it, no matter how much my muscles were screaming.
