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I lifted my mug and began to drink.
“She’s making herself sick drinking that stuff and you know it, Whitehorn,” Draven said angrily as he watched. “In a few more days she’ll be in no condition to ride. Do you have it in mind to play nursemaid? Because I don’t. And we won’t get very far either.”
“She’ll get accustomed to it,” Whitehorn insisted. “Her body is adjusting, that’s all. The king says she must take it, so she must. That’s all there is to it.”
A sheen of sweat had broken out on my brow as I finished the mug. It fell out of my hand as I stood unsteadily.
“Goodnight,” I managed to mumble as I headed to my tent.
Draven said nothing as I departed.
As I lay sleepless in my tent, trying not to wake the two men with my tossing, Draven’s suggestion stayed with me. What if I went back to taking the medicine only once a day as I had used to? Why did I suddenly need an increased dose? Draven was right, I would soon be useless. Then what?
Most of all, did I really want to be completely incapacitated around two men like Draven and Whitehorn?
The road stretchedout before us as far as we could see, its smooth stones worn down over the centuries.
Worn down by whom, I wondered. Passing travelers? Travelers far older than we. For from the look of the land we had been passing through, travelers were rare to these parts.
I slid off Haya and knelt down by the stones. They were weathered and cold to the touch, flecked through with veins of lichen and moss that grew in the cracks and crevices between them.
At first the road appeared to be a faint line on the ground before us, a trick of the light that filtered dimly through the trees. But as our horses plodded down the dirt path we had traveled on for days and we drew closer, we could see that the line was a series of large, flat stones, each one carefully cut and fitted together.
A stone road was not such an unusual thing in itself. Towns and cities had them. Sometimes they would stretch for a ways into the nearby countryside.
What was strange was finding the road here, so far out in this primeval forest. A road that looked as if it had been constructed millennia ago, a relic of a bygone age that had somehow survived the ravages of time.
I caught sight of Whitehorn looking nervously around him. I thought I rather understood how he was feeling. Over the past two days, we had entered a new part of the forest. The trees now stood so tall above us, their branches so thick and dense, that we could hardly see the sky. Weak sunlight streamed down through the layers of leaves, dappling the stone road below with shifting patterns of light and shadow.
“We take the road,” Draven announced. He seemed entertained by our unease. “It’s fae-made, of course.”
“Fae-made. Bah.” Whitehorn spit down from his horse onto the stones.
I jumped back, disgusted. “Is there no other way?”
“Not unless you wish to backtrack nearly a week and then go through the mountains,” Draven said pleasantly. “What’s the problem? This route is still traveled.”
“By whom?” I asked quietly. “We haven’t seen another person since we entered Cerunnos.”
Draven didn’t seem concerned. “We’re taking a less used route, that’s all. And Cerunnos is a much less-occupied land than Pendrath. It’s not as suitable for farming, as you’ve already seen. But you’ll see people in time. When we start to near Orin’s Gate, there will be towns and villages.”
I blinked. “Orin’s Gate? We’re going there?”
“We’ll be passing near there,” he corrected. “There’s no reason for us to enter the city itself.”
He glanced at Whitehorn, who had dismounted and evidently decided this was as good a spot as any to wander into the trees for a piss. I looked away.
Draven lowered his voice. “Your head. How is it? Can you continue a few more hours?”
I looked up at him, then realized I had been unwittingly massaging my temples with my fingers. “I’m fine. We can continue as long as we need to.”
He frowned. “You’re not fine. I saw you this morning. You could hardly mount your horse.”
I had hoped no one had noticed that. Haya had been very forgiving when I’d stumbled, then nearly fallen at her side. I’d stood, panting for a few moments, before finally being able to pull myself up and into the saddle.
“I’m fine,” I said again, more stubbornly. “Stop watching me.”
Draven gave a growling laugh that sent shivers dancing over my skin. “You’re under my care. It’s my job.” His eyes narrowed. “Tell me again why you won’t consider reducing the medicine. If you’re afraid of Whitehorn, don’t be. I’ll make him see reason.”
