AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My legs shook as I stood and made my way to what I called the luggage cart. It was a small, covered wagon that I desperately wanted to remove the contents of so I could sleep within its canvas walls. But alas, it would be too much of a hassle to empty it, only to pack it again in the early hours of the morning.
I hadn’t realized how much stuff I had taken with me from home until that first night we camped. Even the coach was filled with our things, including the small cage for the pigeons. Aside from clothing and beloved items I couldn’t dare to part with, the luggage cart was loaded with food stuffs, gifts from my parents to the Ongahri, and supplies for the trip, filling the wagon full to the top. Only the boxes of food and two trunks were accessible to me and Lucinda, conveniently stowed away at the front.
I opened the one truck and riffled through it until I found a change of clothes. I grabbed my bedroll and the fur cloak the Ongahri had given me the night of the festival. I had been using it for a blanket ever since the nights had gotten so cold that the ground was covered in frost in the mornings.
We weren’t even half-way through our trek to Great Mountain, and my body dreaded the thought of more days like today, sore and bored out of my mind. The only thing to look forward to, with the exception of our arrival, was something Demos had said just yesterday, that there would soon come a time when Lucinda and I would have to go on horseback due to the terrain we would encounter in some parts of our journey, the path being too rugged and uneven to risk us riding in the coach.
Lucinda wasn’t looking forward to it, but I was.
I pulled the cover back down on the cart and made my way toward the far side of the camp. An owl hooted in a nearby tree and flew off as I laid my things down in search of a bush big enough to give me privacy while I used the privy.
The Ongahri’s deep voices carried their way to me as I did my business, my eyes heavy with the need for sleep, but my mind filled with worry. My cycle was due and I was constantly checking every time we stopped. That afternoon, Lucinda, asking what was wrong and seeing me worry, had told me not to think much of it, that it was only late because of so many changes recently, that the traveling, the emotional toll from leaving, and bridal jitters were all to blame.
I was more annoyed than worried, however. The cramps had started three days ago and still no sign of bleeding. Short spurts of pain that were so bad I could barely talk. But every time I checked, nothing.
Finished, I found Lucinda a little away from the fire, on the opposite of where the men were, setting up her bedding for the night. When I joined her, she looked at me questioningly. I shook my head.
“Nothing,” I answered.
She sighed. “Still feeling pain?”
“Not right now. Just the usual I’ve-been-stuck-in-a-coach-all-day pain.” I spread out my bedroll, removed my shawl for a makeshift pillow, and covered myself with the warm fur cloak. I was asleep in minutes.
The rising sun could barely compete with the plump dark-gray clouds that had gathered in the sky overnight. The air was a harsh wet cold, and I shivered as I put on my boots, ready to start another long trek through the countryside.
“Lady Sierra, I heard you’d like to ride for a bit today,” Demos said, startling me. He seemed to always appear from thin air. It was unnerving.
“Are you offering?” I asked hopefully, tying my left boot tightly. I stood when I was done, shaking out my wrinkled skirts. My clothes were slightly damp from the air, but the sensation helped to keep me awake. All I longed for was my old bed.
“You can ride with me on the first leg today.”
“Oh, bless you!” I grabbed all my things, then practically skipped to the cart to load everything back up. I spotted Lucinda returning from the bushes and headed that way.
“I will be riding today, Watcher, thank the gods. Demos offered. So, you’ll have the carriage to yourself this morning.”
Lucinda’s eyes widened. “But is that appropriate, my lady?”
“It’s Demos.” I said, rolling my eyes. “And besides, no one cares about propriety here.” I looked around the camp at the half-naked men, their bare chests displaying all that sinew and muscle. “I cannot take another twelve hours in that carriage, Lucinda. I’ll go mad.”
“All right. After lunch, though—”
I waved a hand. “Yes, yes. I’ll ride with you and be a lady again.”
I didn’t give her a chance to respond. I marched over to where the horses had been kept overnight and spotted Demos’ white gelding—of course he’d have a white horse that was pure in both meanings of the word—which stuck out like a rose bush among ferns, the Ongahri’s mounts being all dark browns and blacks.
“Hello, handsome,” I cooed at the ivory beauty, petting its velvet head and muzzle. He huffed and sought out my hand. He was huge, tall and broad, his coat almost silver, with a luxurious mane. He wasn’t as large as the mammoth black mount Fadon had, but he was close.
“His name is Argenis,” Demos spoke behind me.
“Silver,” I answered, smiling at the mount. It was a perfect name.
“That is correct. Silver in the old tongue.” Demos threw on the saddle, tightening the straps around the gelding’s girth. I stood back and watched him work. His movements were serene and methodical, just like his personality.
Feeling more light-hearted than I had in days, I said, “Thank you, by the way. For letting me ride. The coach is nice and all, but it gets confining.”
He nodded, eyes still on Argenis. “Understandable.”
Such a man of few words, that Servant Demos.
