That encounter had left Oren with a scar down the length of one arm, and still he’d pleaded with her not to kill it. She hadn’t.
Common knowledge painted the Svistra as savage, no different than the large timber wolves that sometimes made their way down from the Telige. But Jaden had shown compassion and gentleness. She could still picture him playing with the kittens. An animal wouldn’t have done that, would it? An animal didn’t read, didn’t discuss the types of flowers in the field or the habits of barn swallows. Still, it was better to err on the side of caution and keeping the Svistra there was becoming too dangerous. He was sitting up now and visibly stronger. When she returned from the village, she’d tell him he had to leave.
A rustle in the woods brought her out of her reverie. With an arrow already nocked, she brought the bow up, peering between the gloomy trees, seeing nothing but dense undergrowth on either side of the path. The hair at the back of her neck tingled as she strained to hear any further sound. Only the thud of Jemima’s hooves reached her ears.
She didn’t lower her guard. Something or someone was out there; benign or enemy was the only question. She quickened her pace and strained her peripheral vision for any sign of movement. Jemima snorted, apparently annoyed at Selia’s impatience.
A short distance ahead, the road curved abruptly before it straightened as it neared the village. It was as likely a place for an ambush as any. But why wait when she was obviously alone?
Feigning an adjustment to Jemima’s pack, she made sure her sword was accessible, cursing herself for not wearing it. She’d have to put down the bow to put it on now and every instinct warred against that move. In the safety of the bar, she reasoned she wouldn’t need it. She’d be traveling during the day, the walk to the village took less than an hour, and she knew every stone and tree along the way. She’d been a fool. Her skin twitched, expecting the bite of an arrow any moment.
Jemima stopped and pricked up her ears then whickered softly. The surrounding woods remained quiet. She couldn’t see anything that might have caught the mare’s attention. After a few tugs, Jemima resumed her plodding walk toward town. With every step, she closed on the blind curve.
Despite the early morning chill, sweat formed on her brow.
Another faint rustle. Selia paused and strained to hear anything out of the ordinary. The forest was quiet, too quiet. As the turn neared, she slowed her step and threw the lead rope over Jemima’s back. A branch creaked to her left and her arrow flew, thudding into a tree trunk. Selia nocked another and froze, waiting. When nothing happened, and her heartbeat had slowed to just above normal, she continued walking. Jemima’s hooves plodding against the dirt road sounded loud in the quiet forest. As they passed the turn, she let out a long breath but didn’t lower her bow. By the time the first building came into view, Selia wondered if the strain of hiding Jaden and rumors of Svistra hadn’t got to her.
“Still nothing?” Nathan walked the perimeter of Eagle Rock’s outer wall. It was old, but the large boulders and mortar holding it together appeared solid.
Matias paused as Nathan bent to examine a crack in one of the larger boulders at the foundation of his first line of defense. “No. If they’re out there, they’re being quiet.”
“Nothing for half a moon and more.”
“Do you think they gave up?”
Nathan stared at his friend. He’d served with Matias since they first grew whiskers. He was one of the few people Nathan called “friend.”
“Stupid question,” Matias mumbled.
“No, I don’t.” Nathan answered anyway, brushing off his hands. “But then I don’t pretend to know how a Svistra thinks.”
“Solid?”
“Enough.”
When they arrived at the fortress more than two weeks before, the forest had grown to the foot of the fortification. Nathan had
Common knowledge painted the Svistra as savage, no different than the large timber wolves that sometimes made their way down from the Telige. But Jaden had shown compassion and gentleness. She could still picture him playing with the kittens. An animal wouldn’t have done that, would it? An animal didn’t read, didn’t discuss the types of flowers in the field or the habits of barn swallows. Still, it was better to err on the side of caution and keeping the Svistra there was becoming too dangerous. He was sitting up now and visibly stronger. When she returned from the village, she’d tell him he had to leave.
A rustle in the woods brought her out of her reverie. With an arrow already nocked, she brought the bow up, peering between the gloomy trees, seeing nothing but dense undergrowth on either side of the path. The hair at the back of her neck tingled as she strained to hear any further sound. Only the thud of Jemima’s hooves reached her ears.
She didn’t lower her guard. Something or someone was out there; benign or enemy was the only question. She quickened her pace and strained her peripheral vision for any sign of movement. Jemima snorted, apparently annoyed at Selia’s impatience.
A short distance ahead, the road curved abruptly before it straightened as it neared the village. It was as likely a place for an ambush as any. But why wait when she was obviously alone?
Feigning an adjustment to Jemima’s pack, she made sure her sword was accessible, cursing herself for not wearing it. She’d have to put down the bow to put it on now and every instinct warred against that move. In the safety of the bar, she reasoned she wouldn’t need it. She’d be traveling during the day, the walk to the village took less than an hour, and she knew every stone and tree along the way. She’d been a fool. Her skin twitched, expecting the bite of an arrow any moment.
Jemima stopped and pricked up her ears then whickered softly. The surrounding woods remained quiet. She couldn’t see anything that might have caught the mare’s attention. After a few tugs, Jemima resumed her plodding walk toward town. With every step, she closed on the blind curve.
Despite the early morning chill, sweat formed on her brow.
Another faint rustle. Selia paused and strained to hear anything out of the ordinary. The forest was quiet, too quiet. As the turn neared, she slowed her step and threw the lead rope over Jemima’s back. A branch creaked to her left and her arrow flew, thudding into a tree trunk. Selia nocked another and froze, waiting. When nothing happened, and her heartbeat had slowed to just above normal, she continued walking. Jemima’s hooves plodding against the dirt road sounded loud in the quiet forest. As they passed the turn, she let out a long breath but didn’t lower her bow. By the time the first building came into view, Selia wondered if the strain of hiding Jaden and rumors of Svistra hadn’t got to her.
“Still nothing?” Nathan walked the perimeter of Eagle Rock’s outer wall. It was old, but the large boulders and mortar holding it together appeared solid.
Matias paused as Nathan bent to examine a crack in one of the larger boulders at the foundation of his first line of defense. “No. If they’re out there, they’re being quiet.”
“Nothing for half a moon and more.”
“Do you think they gave up?”
Nathan stared at his friend. He’d served with Matias since they first grew whiskers. He was one of the few people Nathan called “friend.”
“Stupid question,” Matias mumbled.
“No, I don’t.” Nathan answered anyway, brushing off his hands. “But then I don’t pretend to know how a Svistra thinks.”
“Solid?”
“Enough.”
When they arrived at the fortress more than two weeks before, the forest had grown to the foot of the fortification. Nathan had
Similar Books
