Page 191 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"They’ll come," Graeson said, but he failed to hide his creeping doubt.
"And if they don’t?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"We press on with those who are willing and able. By fire or blade, Sebastian dies today," he said, his gaze locking with hers. "I can promise you that."
Kallie closed her eyes, tipping her head to the treetops.
Where are you?
She knew Terin could not hear her, but she couldn’t help but try.
"Come on," Graeson said, wrapping his hand around hers. "Let’s see if we can help with prepping breakfast."
Kallie sighed but followed. They wove through the sleeping bodies spread across the camp toward the small group preparing breakfast. When they offered their assistance, though, an elderly woman swatted them away.
"There are already enough cooks in my kitchen," the woman said.
Kallie didn’t bother saying there was no kitchen, only a few rocks and a stump signaling the area. Instead, the two of them took a seat against a nearby tree on the outskirts of the small fire.
Kallie’s leg bounced as she watched the flames burn to coals.
"Here," Graeson said, nudging her.
Kallie stared at the scimitar in his hands. "I don’t think we’re going to get attacked right now. If we do, I have my dagger."
"Sharpen it," he said.
At her confused expression, he placed a hand on her thigh. "You’ve been fidgeting since we sat down. It’ll keep your hands busy."
Kallie took the scimitar from him and cocked a brow. "And this is your best idea to get my mind of things?"
Smirking, Graeson leaned closer, the tip of his nose brushing her ear. "Noreen might smack me if she heard my other ideas."
Kallie pulled away. "Noreen?"
Graeson tipped his chin toward the woman cooking. Noreen ripped a knife from the hand of a young man, who was skinning a rabbit, and shoved him with her hip.
"Smack you? She would probably slice you with that knife."
Graeson snorted and handed her a whetstone. With a shaking hand, Kallie took it and began sharpening the blade. After a few swipes, she paused. "Shouldn’t you be staying busy too?"
His gaze dipped over, his eyes burning silver as he took her in. "I enjoy watching you handle my blades."
Kallie laughed. "Don’t let Noreen hear you say that."
When she finished sharpening the first scimitar, Graeson inspected her work, angling it this way and that. With an approving nod, he handed her the other. Kallie beamed at the silent praise.
As more people woke up, the camp slowly stirred to life. Despite the somber atmosphere and the ash raining down on them, the people threw themselves into various tasks after breakfast. In the civilians’ haste to flee the capital, a good handful had the forethought to bring weapons with them. The majority had not, though. When a group suggested scavengingfor weapons, Graeson and Moris offered their assistance. Although most wandered in a different direction than Moris, no one denied his help.
Progress was progress, Kallie supposed.
Once they left, Kallie found herself strolling toward the wounded, providing a helping hand wherever she could. While she had little knowledge about medicinal practices, she could run for supplies or hold down an arm as a healer stitched it up.
As Kallie pressed her weight down onto a soldier’s leg to keep it straight while the healer dug out an arrow, someone gagged behind her. Looking over her shoulders, Kallie found Phaia scurrying the other way.
"Do you need anything else here?" Kallie asked once the healer started wrapping the arrow-free wound.
"No," Gerald, the healer, said. "I’m all set here. Thank you."
