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Weridemostofthe day, stopping with just enough light in the sky to make camp and cook dinner. Everyone is tired and stiff from the long ride, working through our kinks as we gather wood for a fire.
I told Lady Margaret I needed three days to find Lena and bring her home. After today I realize how wrong my estimation could be. We rode hard, pushing ourselves and our horses as far and as long as we could go. And there wasn’t a single clue hinting that Lena, and whomever took her, had ridden along this road.
The long stretch of day and monotonous clop of hooves gave ample time for my mind to run away from me, imagining all the places they could have taken her. Is she ok? Is she hurt? If Parker Aldren is indeed her captor, why did he do it? What does he have to gain from such a thing? An emotional crack has formed inside of me, one that I feel might burst into a full panic if we don’t come across something soon.
I will go to the ends of Haythen and beyond if that’s what it takes, Lena. Just hold on.
We pass the time silently as we eat our small portion of fire roasted rabbit, courtesy of Aiden’s skill with a bow, while also stretching our saddle-molded legs. The river Rashan rushes in the background. The West Passageway follows along the river’s flow until we hit Fort Lowsan. Its blue sputtering fades easily in the background for everyone but me.
My eyes shut tight, and I pinch the bridge of my nose as the cresting memory of that fateful First Hunt, of Evander resting weightless in the water, eddies and ripples through my mind. A sudden bout of nausea has me taking deep breaths, an attempt to avoid losing the food I’ve already eaten.
I take small bites, even through the dizzying queasiness, knowing not every meal will include fresh meat. My body will need its nourishment in the coming days if I’m to find Lena. If we must search beyond Fort Lowsan, game may be harder to come by. The North is a mystery, very few having ever explored the land around and within Thenstra. So savoring this victory, no matter how sour it might taste, might be the very thing that bolsters me through the uncharted and formidable peaks of the Prythan Mountains.Whatever it takes to bring her home.
I hope everyone is prepared for the grueling days ahead, because I won’t slow down for anyone’s comfort.
A few rogue stars, the brightest in the sky, have started to pop through the darkening blue. They sprinkle above me as I unbuckle Red’s saddle, laying it on the ground to give him a reprieve from the heavy thing.
Laughter breaks out on the edge of our camp, and the sound scrapes against me. It’s disconcerting to hear such joy when the anxious unknown is grinding through my thoughts.
“I’ve visited every major city in Felshan, including Roan’s origin city— Port Riga. In fact, I remember meeting him when he was just a boy, before he moved to Turin. And I’m so good with a sword, I’ve never received any major wounds or battle scars. My instincts are as fierce as the cats of Venes, and my blows like the solid hammers of a Turinian blacksmith,” I hear Otto say, my interest piqued when I hear my name attached to Port Riga.
“Have you forgotten I’ve seen you with your shirt off, Otto? Your back is as scarred as an overripe melon.” Aiden raises a brow, unsatisfied with his mentor, but also pleased with himself.
“Then let the girl answer, boy,” Otto replies, mock annoyance clouding his merry features. He turns to the girl. “Alright, Ari. Your turn.”
“Let’s see,” she says, tapping a finger against her chin.
Her small leather vest and belt lie discarded on the ground next to her bow and quiver, her unhindered shirt billowing with each breeze that drifts through our camp. The heat of the day has yet to wane with the setting sun, and I decide to follow her lead and remove the leather from my arms and torso, letting the flowing wind cool me down.
“Alright. My father is a fisherman, and he taught me the name of every single fish in Turin’s waters, as well as how to cook them all to perfection. And I would rather sleep on the ground than in some fancy bed,” she says to them, leaning forward with her elbows propped on her knees.
The fire is dying down, its faint glow sharply highlighting Ari’s devious expression. No one moves to add another log to the flames, the already warm evening providing more than enough heat for a pleasant sleep.
“Ok. Let’s look at this objectively,” Aiden responds. “Your father could do any number of things— leaving a large hole for dishonesty. Although, who wouldn’t want a fancy bed? One is too specific, the other too obvious. Which one would you go for, I wonder?” His leg bounces rhythmically as he stares at Ari, unblinking.
“Your father isn’t a fisherman,” Otto chimes in. “Some of those lavish beds have so much time spent making sure the lace is sewn on just right, they forget that comfort is why they exist in the first place.” He looks to Ari, unwavering in his stare. “I’d rather sleep on the ground instead of one of those things too.”
My brows kiss as I try to decipher their conversation. Scars, fisherman, Port Riga?
Ari’s blank face spreads into a wide smile. “Indeed. My father is not a fisherman.”
“Tally-ho!” Aiden slaps his knee. “Nothing slips by this old man.” He bumps Otto’s shoulder, all of them chuckling quietly. “So what does your father really do?” Aiden asks, turning back to Ari.
The wide smile on her face fades to a lifeless grin, shrinking further to a thin line, her hesitation silencing their game. I’m too far away to navigate the look in her eyes, but not so far that I can’t recognize the void of emotion written across her features.
“He may be a fisherman. I don’t know. I was raised by my mother.” It’s all she offers, and no one pries further. Her blank expression lasts a few more breaths before turning back to subtle contentment. “My knowledge of fish was given to me by Lenny, the orphan boy working down at the docks. He’s a great teacher, if you ever want your seafood to be a work of art.” Her words are quick as she tries to brush past the uncomfortable truth. She grew up without her father.
“I, for one, love a good fish stew,” Otto says instantly. “If Lenny is up for a lesson, he’ll have a student in me when we return.” He winks at her before turning to his left. “Alright, Aiden. You’re up.” If there’s one person you want navigating an uncomfortable situation, it’s Otto. He’s never been one to linger in awkward silence and always seems to know what to say to ease any tension.
Part of me warms to the thief, to Ari. She may have questionable morals, but it would be difficult to grow up without a father.
My own was vital to my childhood and long after I outgrew him in size. James Montgomery is a force to be reckoned with, in the best way. His care for our home, our family trade and employees, my mother, my brother and sisters— it shaped the very foundation of who I am and everything I hope to be. My father’s example taught me strength, compassion, and determination. He would walk down the village road and garner the attention of everyone. Not from fear, but from veneration.
I asked him once why everyone would quiet and stare as he moved by. He told me, “I demand much but expect little. Every person in this city will struggle at some point, and they know I will be on their side when they do. When they are basking in good-fortune again, they will pay it back.”
As I aged I asked him how to become a good leader. Before betrothal to Lena and the loss of the prince, my plan was to return home. To take up our family trade as my father did, and his father before him. “You must govern people with sternness and compassion, and use discernment for which of the two is appropriate for the moment.” I shudder to think what would have become of me without him.
“Ok, Ok. My mother disowned me when I entered the Guard, and I’ve never killed a man,” Aiden tells their huddled group.
