“I will be certs to watch my surroundings as I relieve myself.” She rolled her eyes as she moved out of sight. Once she had, she slumpedover, walking gingerly, trying to nurse her feet the best she could. She darenae remove her boots for fear that she would not be able to put them back on. She would administer to them when they stopped for the night.
How long from now would that be she couldn’t ascertain. They’d been walking for quite some time today, but she was sure dusk was far from them.
Slowly, she made her way back to where Rory was leaning against a tree waiting. She straightened when she saw him, forcing herself to walk without limping.
He offered her some dried meat and ale.
This time she didn’t fight him and accepted his offering.
“We have gone aboot half the distance we need today.”
Half? She fought back the tears that threatened. However was she going to make it through the rest of the day?
“If ye are ready, we can push forward.”
She wanted to whimper and beg for lenience but kenned it would get her nowhere. Still, she asked for a small boon to see if he would appease her. “Can we please slow our pace? Just a wee bit?”
“I am keeping the pace that will get us to yer betrothed in the allotted time. If ye cannae keep up, ye’ll be left behind,” he added coldly.
She sighed, closing her eyes, and tilting her head up to the sky. Why? Why did it have to be Rory Hart to escort her? Clearly, he did not want the task. And he was making her miserable on purpose. As if he was trying to prove some unkenned point. What? That she wasn’t a hiker?
Aye.
He only had to ask her and she would admit to that.
For him to hold such anger against her because she delayed his planned hiking trip seemed like a dastardly thing to do. She hadn’t ordered him to escort her. If aught, he should be angered with hisfather. He was following his orders, not hers.
Alana was beginning to think she would have been better off with the men her husband-to-be had sent to her. They hadn’t taken kindly to her, that was obvious, but they hadn’t made her hike.
Nay, they only abandoned ye the first chance they got.
Sighing, she ignored the stabbing pain in her feet and the blisters that were for certs growing larger with each step and hurried to catch Rory.
They moved on in silence. Alana refusing to say a word. Refusing to complain. To show weakness. She would not. But she could barely stifle her cry of relief when he finally announced they would be stopping for the night.
She did not even care that once again, they would be sleeping outside on the ground. She could only think of getting off of her feet, removing her boots and surveying the damage the days of hiking had done to them.
Just as the night afore, Rory handed her a blanket, then set about starting a fire to keep them warm for the night—and to roast the hare he’d snared.
All the while they spoke not one word to each other. Instead, they ignored each other. She found she much preferred the silence than his dismissive conversation.
Alana rolled out the plaid, laying it flat on the ground and nearly collapsed onto it. Quickly, she untied her boots, each loose of the lace took off the pressure on her feet and throbbing pain replaced the numbness she had begun to feel.
Slipping off the boots with a groan, she rolled down her stockings, the gray wool stained with blood from the blisters that had burst and the skin that had been rubbed raw.
With a wince, she dabbed at the numerous pustules covering the bottoms of her feet, the tops of her toes, and her heels with the water Rory had handed her earlier. He probably meant for her to drink it,but she couldn’t right now. She needed to treat her wounds. These would take forever to heal. She for certs will be traveling with the painful abscesses for the rest of their journey.
“Here. Ye need to eat.” Rory’s eyes dropped to her feet and blew wide for a moment afore the uncaring mask he always wore slipped back into place.
Taking what he offered with a ‘thank you’, she nibbled at the meat, which he’d somehow prepared to taste quite pleasant on her tongue. Alana wasn’t sure how he had managed such a feat, unless he carried a small stash of spices in his backpack. She supposed he could be. She hadn’t paid any attention to what he’d brought along. She only kenned that he was much better equipped than she was.
Not for his lack of warning. He had tried. She had just refused to listen. She could acknowledge her own stubbornness.
After Alana had finished her meal, she rinsed her stockings and laid them out to dry.
Rory was propped up against a nearby tree, wrapped in his plaid as he watched the woods around them. They hadn’t crossed any other travelers today, so she wasn’t sure why he seemed on edge this eve.
She laid down, trying not to think about how she would manage the journey on the morrow. She kenned that she would. Failure was not an option. Showing Rory weakness was also not an option.
