Page 65 of Faeling
After a moment’s consideration, Ravenna said, “If either chieftain refuses you, escort them back home. Say it’s for their safety and bring a sizeable force. Charm them along the way. When you arrive at Kaldebrak or Innrinhom, stay a while. And when you leave, go to the tribes in the east. Having their loyalty will surely bring Kennum and Hrothgar back to your table.”
The breath rushed out of Vallek in awe. She said it so confidently, with a certainty as though it were a vision.
Perhaps it was. A vision of another sort.
Vallek smiled. Pulling her close, he nuzzled her temple. “My clever girl. You’ll win me my kingdom yet.”
16
That was how Ravenna found herself with far more freedom than she’d ever anticipated. Well,freedommight be a strong word. More like, boundaries outside of Vallek’s quarters in the citadel.
Somehow, her little scrap of advice had, in the span of three mere days, turned into a full march to Innrinhom. The swiftness with which everything was planned still made her head spin; Eydis truly was a marvel.
Although Hrothgar and Kennum’s representatives had begrudgingly agreed to the terms of Vallek’s proposal, he still deemed it necessary to accompany the old chieftain back to Innrinhom.To belabor the point,as Vallek put it. So on his way with his berserkers to finally bring the eastern tribes to heel, Vallek accompanied Hrothgar’s party home.
Well, all but one. Hrothgar had shrewdly chosen Yphella, one of his daughters, to act as his emissary, no doubt in hopes that more time in Balmirra, with Vallek, might persuade him anInnrini queen was actually something to consider.
His other daughter and niece used the opportunity of dining each evening with Vallek to flirt and charm.
Ravenna had been dragged along in her human disguise and knew all of this because she too was part of the royal retinue. More than a few looked askance at the arrangement; the king had never felt the need to bring his soothsayer along before. And that she slept in the royal tent? Very strange.
As they set off that first day, boarding barges to cross over to Lake Lovath’s eastern shores, Ulrich had made sure to find a moment to get in close. Holding her back by the arm, he hissed,“People are talking. Stay away from him. Don’t ruin this more than you already have.”
“I want this as much as you do,”she’d spat back. She needed the largest orcish army possible to one day march against Amaranthe.
“I seriously doubt that.”
Fates, what a prick.
She wanted to say he was the worst thing about this trip, but that wouldn’t be true. The worst thing was the blisters. Or maybe it was watching two beautiful orcesses flirt shamelessly with herazai. Or maybe it was the daily trudge that had her collapsing whenever they stopped for rest.
It was the blisters. Definitely the blisters.
I could carry you,Oberon offered.
Despite the dangers, he and a few of the younger herd members had decided to follow a safe distance behind the party, should she need aid.
Younger?
Less experienced,she amended.
Indeed. This will be excellent training for the foals. But do try to keep up with the column, we’re nearly catching you up.
Easy to say when you have four legs.
Yes, four is far superior. I keep telling you this.
Chatting with Oberon did help a little, as everyone else on the journey was far too busy to take much notice of her. She did her best to keep up, as well as find what plants she could to help make a balm for her sore feet. However, more than once, she fell behind the party and was scolded when someone had to go looking for her.
“You must stay near,” Vallek chided her one evening. “Anything could happen on the road. You’re small enough that an owl might just swoop down and take you. What would I do then?”
She was far too sore from another day marching and cranky from another evening watching him charm Hrothgar’s party to dignify his warning with a response. Hunkering down further into her cot, she did her best to ignore him and go to sleep.
He never liked that, though, and wouldn’t stand it for long. Despite that she always drew her little cot away from his palatial camp bed whenever it was set out—there were enough wagging tongues about the two beds being in the same canvas room let alone close by—he always dragged it closer to make one slightly larger bed.
Throwing his heavy arm over her, he pulled her in close. Nuzzling her temple, he murmured, “Promise me, sprite.”
“I’m doing my best,” she grumped. “As you so like to point out, my legs are short. I don’t exactly have a litter to carry me round like Hrothgar.” When she felt his intake of breath, she pointed behind her at him. “Don’t even think about it. People are already suspicious.”
