"No, that's fine, Garek," Ciara said. "The ground here isn't so hard, and you've brought me more furs than I think I'll need."
"Then I'll take this one back." He snagged a deep ebony one from the top of the heap. It looked too small to cover much of Garek's bulk. He must have caught Bolin's appraising glance because he tilted his chin and assumed as haughty a stance as a man of his build could muster. "I intend to roll it up and use it for a pillow, if you must know. Years of sleeping on the ground have put a wicked mean crick in my neck any time I don't pamper it a bit. Being as this is the first night of many, I'd hate to give it cause to start pestering me now."
"By all means," Bolin said. "We wouldn't want discomfort making you ornery."
Garek laughed. "Ornery? Me? Ah, that's ripe coming from the man who defines the word even in his sleep."
Ciara made a noise and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes looked bright in the dancing flames, her features soft and relaxed. She looked...happy. Bolin hadn't seen her like that in a long time, and something stirred inside him. His skin warmed where the pendant hung tucked beneath his tunic. A warmth that spread to other parts of his body as well.
Bolin stood abruptly. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go make sure Danya Nialyne doesn't need anything else." He tried to remove the husky tone to his voice by clearing his throat. "No watch tonight, Garek. Everyone should get as much rest as they can. We'll need it."
"Aye, General." Garek's mustache twitched. "I'll just stoke up the fire a bit and turn in then." He waited until Bolin had started toward the cart before adding, "There's some sweet wine by my pack if you'd like something to clear that burr in your throat."
Bolin twisted back, but clamped his mouth shut on his retort. "Good night, Commander."
"With the morning, General."
CHAPTER TEN
Another day and a half of travel through the Greensward passed without event. The weather favored them with light breezes during the day, and calm nights that made for peaceful sleep. The men were in good spirits, and Nialyne had Ciara laughing more than once. Sandeen even accepted the crystal in his pack with more grace, though first thing in the morning it still made him uneasy. Garek did his best to lighten Bolin's mood but less than a handful of leagues lay between them and the Greensward's eastern-most border and after that, the sense of safety that surrounded them would vanish as quickly as carrion to the crows.
"You're brooding again," Garek said.
"We'll be at the border before nightfall."
Garek grunted. "I figured that was what you had stuck in your craw. Let's worry about that tomorrow morning, shall we?" Bolin slid him a look and Garek made a silent 'oh' with his mouth. "Cover of dark, then."
Bolin could feel Garek mulling that over as they rode. His friend turned to look behind them, most likely assessing who was within earshot, then leaned Bolin's way in the saddle. "Not arguing with your decision, mind you."
"Garek, you do realize when you start off with those words I immediately know you're doing exactly that?"
"I'm just making an observation is all. We've those wolf creatures to worry about at night."
"Eventually, yes. But Donovan likely doesn't even know we're on the move yet. He won't get a sense we've left the Greensward until we pass through the wards. Then he still has to find us."
Garek sniffed. "Unless he's watching the borders."
"That's a lot of border to watch. I don't think he has the resources."
"See now, you're using phrases that make the hair on my arms itch. 'Likely doesn't know.' You don't 'think' he has the resources."
Bolin clenched his jaw. "Had I been given the opportunity--"
Garek held up a hand. "How much time do you think we have?"
"I'm hoping at least a couple of days. Perhaps four before he can reach us."
"So we ride hard under cover of darkness?"
"Unless you'd rather face rocs during the day."
"Well, let's pray to the Goddess then, that we get four days of peace first. I'm going to have a chat with my lieutenant." Garek turned his horse, and rode to the back of the column.
Four days of peace. A fool's hope, that. In all honesty, he really had no proof Donovan still lived. Well, none beyond the certainty in his gut. And whether Donovan had returned to his fortress, or still lingered in the crone's swamp, also remained an unknown. The swamp would put him even further from them, and less likely to be able to acquire the mercenaries he preferred to hire for his dirty work. The question of the crone's fate also lurked in his thoughts. Goddess's blood, he hated not knowing for sure what they were up against, like a blind man stumbling about in an unfamiliar room.
He rubbed his arm. Then again, perhaps they weren't as blind as he thought.
"It worries me when you do that." Nialyne came up beside him, taking Garek's place to his left.
"Do what?"
She glanced over, and Bolin put his hand back on the reins.
"Nervous habit," he said.
"I wonder."
"Well don't." He sucked in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, reeling in the spark of temper before it got the better of him. "I'm sorry, Alyne. It's fine, I assure you."
She peered up at him, the look of a hawk surveying its prey. "What are you contemplating?"
A hawk with incredible instincts.
"Many things," he said, but not ungently. "None of which you would approve of, so there's little sense in my sharing them with you. Just remember what I told you before we left. If anything happens look out for yourself."
"I'll not desert Ciara. Or you, for that matter. I understand and appreciate your concern, Bolin. But you need to keep in mind that I'm not exactly helpless. Even outside these borders."
"I never claimed you were."
"And you don't need to take responsibility for my safety."
He snorted. "I may not need to, but I always will."
***
Ciara decided she could easily enjoy the ride to Nisair if the entire way were as beautiful and gentle as the Greensward. The forests around her aunt's house had been thick and old, but they had an unkempt appearance when compared to the land around Galys Auld. Here the ground wore a soft blanket of fallen leaves and the trees didn't crowd in on one another, as though someone had planted them knowing they would need their own space to grow tall and healthy. It gave a sense of openness and grandeur. And the land pulsed with a deep, natural magic, strong and unyielding, but at the same time incredibly peaceful. Ciara could feel it like her own heartbeat. No wonder Bolin loved it here.
"Do you mind?"
Ciara startled and glanced over to find Berk had ridden up next to her. She smiled at him. "Not at all."
"This is beautiful country," he said, looking around.
"I was just thinking the same thing."
Like the rest of the men who had come with Garek, Berk wore the full uniform of an Imperial Guard, including a cowled mail shirt beneath the deep blue tabard. Weapons were definitely not in short order among this group either. Berk not only had a sword at his hip, but a knife on the opposite side, a dagger at the small of his back, and Ciara had noticed the hilt of another peeking above his left boot. A crossbow hung from the front of his saddle, a quiver of bolts beside it. He rode easily, one hand on the reins, the other resting on his thigh, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings with an occasional sweep of the sky through the trees. It gave him an air of readiness that seemed so unnecessary here.
"Do you live in Nisair?" she asked, as much to fill time as to keep her mind from worrying.
"I have," he said. "We were stationed in Trombachue since last summer, though. We go where the Emperor has need of us."
"That must be hard, moving around all the time. Don't you have a family?"
"Besides these louts?" He jerked his thumb back to indicate the riders behind them. "I was born in the Reaches. My father is Lord Verrun's huntsman now. He used to serve with General Bolin. I suppose that's why he thought joining t
he guard would be good for me as well."
"And has it been?"
"In a lot of ways, yes." His brow furrowed. "I miss my family. I've a sister and two brothers, all younger than me. They sometimes come down for festival, but I've not seen them for several years now. What of you? Have you family somewhere?"
Ciara shook her head and looked away. "Not any more. I never had much to begin with. My mother died when I was thirteen. I went to live with my aunt after that. It's been only a few moon cycles since she passed."
"I'm sorry to hear. What of your father?"
Ciara stiffened. Her mare's ears flicked back, and she shifted sideways with a toss of her head. Ciara settled her, and when she spoke her voice came hard. "I have no father."
Berk stayed quiet for a long time. "I didn't mean to pry."
Goddess's light. "It's all right. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just--" She sighed. "Complicated."
"Then we'll talk about something less so. Unless you'd rather I go back to riding beside Duff? Though, to be honest, I've been riding next to him far too long as it is. I think I have all his tales memorized." Berk dropped his voice to a conspiratorial level and leaned toward her, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously. "If he ever asks you if you've heard one of them, any of them, just tell him yes and walk away. Trust me on this."
Ciara peered over her shoulder. Duff had fallen back to ride alongside the cart. He was talking and gesturing non-stop and by the look on Salek's face, Berk hadn't exaggerated.
"Maybe he should have been a bard," she suggested.
Berk laughed loud enough to draw everyone's attention, his cheek's dimpling as he smiled. "Oh, you've not heard him sing."
"Ho, bowman!" Duff rode up on Ciara's other side. "I get the sense I'm being disparaged."
"Nonsense, Duff." Berk assumed a more serious expression with obvious effort. "You've just been given a high compliment."
"Oh?" Duff narrowed his eyes. He looked several years younger than Berk, and quite a bit rounder. He seemed to be as equally well-armed, though instead of a crossbow he had an axe across his back. He just didn't look the type to use it, or the two short swords at his waist. "And what compliment was that?"
Berk angled his head toward Ciara, and she shook hers, eyes wide, when she realized he wanted her to repeat what she'd said.
"You don't believe a word of what this scoundrel tells you," Duff said. "It's a known fact he spins tales only to make himself look good in the lady's eyes. I should tell you of this one time in Hillsboro--"
Berk groaned. "I already told her that one, Duff."
"You didn't!"
"Duff." Garek's bellow from the back of the procession sent birds screeching from their roosts. "Tell them about the time you saved that farmer's cow."
Duff nodded vigorously, his curly blonde hair bouncing. "Oh, aye, that's a good one, to be sure."
"Ah, Commander." Berk shot a long-suffering look over his shoulder. "What have I done to deserve your ire?"
"In specific? Or generalities?"
Duff hooted and slapped his thigh. He jutted his thumb at Berk. "Likes to come across as a ne're do wrong, that one. But I can tell you some tales about his antics that would put him to shame right quick."
Ciara glanced at Berk, and he rolled his eyes. She stifled a laugh. Duff would have launched into a story for sure if Garek hadn't ridden up just then and cuffed him in the back of the head.
"Tell your own tales, Duff, and no one else's," Garek said. "In fact, tell none at all for now. Back in line with you."
Duff gave a theatrical pout, then flipped his hand in a quick salute and checked up his horse to let the others pull ahead. Soon his voice rose from behind them, chattering to Sully and Salek about an incident having something to do with a muddy pit and catching a hog for slaughter.
"You encouraged him, Commander," Berk said. "Just remember that."
Garek scratched his beard. "He gets out of hand and we may have to gag him."
"It'd be a sad thing, indeed," Berk said solemnly. "But if it needs doing, as much as I'd hate to, I'd volunteer for the duty, sir."
"So noted, soldier."
Garek gave them a nod and continued up to the front of the line. Nialyne looked like a child on a pony between Bolin and Garek. She laughed at something Garek said when he pulled his horse to a walk next to hers. Bolin shook his head and then turned to look back. Ciara couldn't read his expression over the distance, but she saw his gaze slide from her to Berk, and linger there for a long moment.
***
"Short camp, boys," Sully said as they came to a halt alongside the river again.
The sun cut through the trees, slanting in from the west. It would be some time, even under cover of the leaves, before night came in earnest.
"What does he mean?" Ciara asked.
"Berk, you and Duff see to the horses."
"Aye, Sul," Berk tossed back. He swung out of the saddle and led his horse around Ciara's mare so he could hold the bridle for her as she dismounted. "Short camp? Means we're not staying here the night. Just long enough to get the horses fed and watered, and have a cold bite ourselves."
Ciara stretched stiff muscles. "I can see to my horse."
She tried to claim the reins from Berk but he dodged her.
"I've got my orders," he said, and led the pair away.
Garek strolled past with not only his sorrel and Nialyne's bay mare, but Sandeen as well. Ciara swiveled to find Bolin, and spotted him getting on one of the spare horses. Before she could say anything, he cantered off.
"Now where's he going?" she asked, when she caught up to Garek.
He looked in the direction of her gesture. "Scouting, most likely. He likes to know what's ahead." And then he added, as though he'd read her mind, "Don't worry, he'll be back. Wouldn't leave without this one."
He dipped his head toward Sandeen. The stallion had been watching Bolin ride off as well, but now swung around to nudge Ciara. She reached up and massaged his velvety nose as he blew warmly against her hand.
"I'll take him," she said. Garek looked skeptical. "I was trained by a horse master, Commander. I've handled stallions before."
He raised a bushy, red brow. "He's been a bit proddy."
"It's likely the mares," Ciara said. "I'll take him downstream a bit."
Garek still didn't look convinced but he let her lead Sandeen away. The stallion slurped noisily from the river as Ciara stripped him of packs and saddle. She pulled some of the longer, coarse grass along the riverbank and twisted it expertly in a wisp, then, slipping her boots off and rolling her trousers up over her knees, she led Sandeen into the cool water. He stretched his neck out and twisted his upper lip over his teeth in obvious appreciation of Ciara's ministrations. She cupped her hands and scooped up water to splash across his back, rubbing with her grass brush to work the sweat and grime out of his coat. When she finished, she drew him toward an open patch of grass and stepped back as he dropped down to roll.
"There now," she said, as he stood and gave himself a shake that sent bits of grass and droplets of water flying. "Don't you feel better?"
"You're going to spoil him."
Ciara turned around to find Bolin leaning against a nearby tree, arms folded across his chest.
"He deserves a little spoiling every now and again," she said.
Bolin pushed away from the tree and came to stand next to her. Sandeen bumped him in the shoulder with his head, then went back to grazing. Bolin indicated the tree line. "That's the border of the Greensward."
Ciara had thought as much. Sandeen's impromptu grooming had been her way of keeping from dwelling on the fact they weren't making camp. "We're crossing it tonight?"
"Aye."
"Where did you go?"
"To make sure nothing's waiting for us."
She sucked in a quick breath. "And?"
"I think we'll have a couple days. Ciara," he took her gently by the arm and turned her to face him, "he will come for you."
"
I know." She looked down at her hands. "That's why Nialyne came along, isn't it?"
She felt him tense. "Her motives remain a mystery to me."
Ciara rolled her gaze up to meet his. "I don't want her getting hurt, Bolin."
"Nor do I."
"If she tries to stop Donovan--"
"I will do everything in my power to see that doesn't happen."
She looked at the tree line: an abrupt end to the lush forest, beyond which stretched a wide, undulating plain of tall grass. Once they set foot on it they'd no longer have the protection of the Greensward's wards. No amount of swords or crossbows were going to deter Donovan. He wouldn't hesitate to kill everyone to get to her. There had to be another way. She refused to have more lives lost because of her. Berk and Garek hadn't asked to be here. The Emperor had sent them. Ordered them to escort her to Nisair, and for what?
She'd never be safe as long as Donovan lived. Worse, she wouldn't be safe to be around. She couldn't lay that on Bolin, regardless of his oath to her aunt. Ciara refused to be anyone's duty. As much as she hated to admit it, she shared a blood bond with Donovan. That made him her problem. No one else's. If she could get close to him, could convince him she had taken his side--once she learned to control her power she could move against him. Donovan had told her as much.
"Ciara?"
Bolin's brows met in a sharp downward 'V', his eyes darkening to the color of storm clouds. His fingers tightened around her arm, and Ciara could see his pulse pounding in the tense lines of his neck.
She waved her arm toward the rest of the group. "They're going to die because of me."
"They are Imperial soldiers. Their lives are the Emperor's."
"And he's throwing them away. For what? What does he want with me anyhow? And what about Nialyne? Is her life the Emperor's to discard at his whim?"
Bolin's jaw ticked. "The Emperor is not in the habit of discarding lives."
"Please, Bolin." Ciara clenched her hands together and brought them up to rest against her chin. "Let me go to him."
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