Page 66 of Faeling
“I’d carry you myself.”
Ravenna patted his muscled forearm. She knew he would if she’d let him. The problem was, as his staff, her place was in the middle of the great column they made through the countryside. Certainly notbesidehim. Or on his back.
Throughout the day’s march, the column passed her by. First the rest of the staff on the journey—the cooks, smiths, and hunters—then the bulk of the berserkers and the supply animals and their keepers. Even the unruly onagers seemed to laugh at her as they trundled past with their loads.
In the end, it was just such an onager that became her salvation. Her stinky salvation.
As she fell behind the next day, a berserker came jogging from the front lines toward her. It took only a moment to recognize Mattias, the berserker captain.
Nodding in greeting, Ravenna tried not to snap at him when he asked how she was.
“I’ll manage,” she replied, blinking the dust and sweat from her eyes.
Mattias’s lips pursed unhappily between his tusks. “If you’ll allow me,kone…”
Without even having to stop the march, he lifted her onto the back of a lightly outfitted onager. The donkey’s long ears flicked back and forth, and Ravenna held perfectly still, watching anxiously with an equally wary Mattias to see if the onager would buck her off. After a mild huff, the beast ruffled his short mane and continued on.
“Try to move with him and maybe give him a treat when we stop to rest,” Mattias suggested.
Gritting her teeth, Ravenna only nodded. Her feet nearly sangat the relief, but her back soon went stiff with the unfamiliar gait of the beast. Mattias fell into step beside her, apparently wanting to confirm she wouldn’t be thrown from her saddle of jerky sacks.
Even with the din of the column and Mattias walking beside her, Ravenna was aware of the looks and the sniggers. Those berserkers in the back lines craned their heads over their shoulders to get a good look, and the onager keepers hid their laughter behind their hands.
Straightening her back, Ravenna threw a leg over the onager, redistributing her weight and taking a more familiar riding seat.
If the donkey’s rude to you, I’ll have a word with him tonight,Oberon threatened.
While she appreciated the support, this was one fight she had to win on her own.
The onager was mild-mannered enough, thankfully, and with Mattias glaring at the snickering soldiers, the laughter soon died out.
No matter how she poked and prodded, he wouldn’t say in as many words that Vallek had sent him to watch over her. Ravenna wasn’t sure whether to be touched or annoyed.
It didn’t take much effort to assume that while it was true Vallek didn’t want to part with her because of his beast and wanting to be near his own mate, he also wanted to keep an eye on her. The thought rankled like a pebble in her boot, only growing larger the longer they marched.
You try scalingonewall and suddenly you have to have someone always watching.
And don’t you forget it,Oberon whinnied in glee.
While she appreciated the rest, Ravenna found evenings almost as unbearable as the daytime march. She wanted nothing more than to lay face down on her cot, but instead, as part of Vallek’s staff, she sat to the side, quietly eating her meal as Vallek, Ulrich, Hrothgar, and his daughter and niece sat around a low table, eating, drinking, and making merry. Reclined in low, cushioned divans that easily folded up for travel, they enjoyed fine camp fare, as well as mead from Vallek’s own stores.
Ravenna tried to keep to herself, shoveling food into her mouth no matter what it was. So long as it was warm and filled her belly, she wasn’t choosy.
Still, she couldn’t help but glare over the rim of her bowl. It seemed the more charming her mate became, the more irritated she grew.
Were she well-rested and blister-free, she likely would’ve appreciated what a skilled diplomat herazaicould be. She knew he was a fearsome warrior, but seeing the way he slowly ingratiated himself to Hrothgar, affable and good-humored, Ravenna saw the other side of his skill. This soft power wove its own magic, and day by day, the old chieftain scowled a little less.
As they trudged through the southeastern Griegens, eventually finding their way on wide forested paths, Hrothgar began sharing stories of his youth, regaling the dinner table with tales of battles with dragons and liaisons with sirens. His daughter and niece, Yngrid and Birgít, tutted and rolled their eyes, no doubt having heard the stories many times, but Vallek and Ulrich laughed uproariously, slapping their knees and toasting Hrothgar’s prowess.
It was between these tales that Yngrid or Birgít, whichever had managed to get a spot at Vallek’s side that night, wouldgently touch his hand while leaning over to whisper something in his ear. Vallek smiled, his eyes glittering with interest.
Ravenna glared daggers at the orcesses. She knew very well she had to stay put to pull off the ruse, and it wasn’t as though she wished to explain herself or her entanglement with Vallek, but that didn’t stop her vicious fae instincts from wanting to claw the eyes out of any female who dared look upon her fine specimen of a mate.
If she didn’t know better, she might think he did it to make her jealous. Instead, he reassured her, night after night, that she was sat where she could see him to prove nothing untoward happened with either orcess.
“Although, you could stop staring at them so…intensely,” he said one night as he pulled her cot and then her to him. “You’re beginning to unnerve them.”
Ravenna smiled evilly into the darkness.Good.
