Eona - Alison Goodman [164]
“Of course,” I said, although in truth I was not sure if I could stay on one of the beasts by myself. Still, I would try. At least I knew how to dismount. I swung my leg and slid off our horse, landing with reasonable grace on the loose gravel.
The dune man smiled encouragingly, inviting me to pat his mare. “Her name is Ren,” he said. “It means ‘forbearance’ in my tribe’s language.”
I slid my hand along the silky nap of her neck. Forbearance: the poor creature would need a lot of it once I was on her back.
As we rode on, Ren was as good as the dune man had claimed—steady and eternally forgiving of my heavy hands and lack of skill. Kygo kept close beside me, our horses’ shoulders almost touching. Ren, may the gods bless her sweet nature, seemed oblivious to Kygo’s horse and its occasional nibble at her bridle.
“You are doing well,” Kygo said.
“She is making me look good.” I shot him a sharp look. “But then, that is what she is supposed to do, isn’t she? What are you worried about?”
“Always so quick, Naiso.” He shifted in his saddle, lowering his voice. “As commander of the army, Sethon has ruthlessly quelled the Eastern Tribes for years, so there is no love lost there. But they are not totally convinced of me, either. After all, my father allowed Sethon’s eastern campaigns.” He drew his hand down the length of his queue. “Nor do they have the same reverence for Dragoneyes as the rest of the land, since they have been without the blessing of one for five hundred years.”
Ever since the Mirror Dragoneye was executed and the Mirror Dragon fled. Would the easterners have any legends about Kinra? Or had she been wiped from their stories, too?
“And now the Mirror Dragon is back, and the Mirror Dragoneye is about to arrive,” I finished for him. “What do you think will happen?”
His eyes cut back to Tozay, riding a length or so behind us. “Tozay says the easterners respect only strength. So, we show strength.” He turned back to me, his face somber. “Are you ready for that . . . my love?”
The soft, hesitant endearment blazed through me. Kygo had called me his love. I knew he was warning me about the easterners, but all I could focus on was that one sweet phrase. I could not stop the smile that sang from my spirit.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I am ready.”
I wanted to return the endearment, but I did not know what to say: I had never called anyone a heart-name. Yet it seemed my smile was enough, because he leaned across and took my hand, his own smile holding me in its embrace.
For one joyous moment I forgot I had lied to him about Ido and the cyclone. Then the Dragoneye was there again, in my mind: the memory of his hands touching me and his mouth on mine, and the glory of his power. If Kygo knew about that, he would not be calling me his love.
The dune leader reined his horse. “We are here,” he announced, drawing Kygo’s attention from me. A small mercy; I could no longer meet his eyes.
The man motioned ahead. “Your army awaits, Your Majesty.” He bowed over his saddle, waiting for us to pass and lead the troops into the resistance camp.
I had never seen so many people gathered in one place—not even in the ceremony arena or the crater camp. Involuntarily my hands tightened around Ren’s reins, yanking on her bit, as we made our way between two plains of bowed bodies that stretched for hundreds of lengths on either side into the pale shadows of morning. Behind them, low military tents and the taller, round tribal tents were built up row upon row like city streets, the outer ranks so far away they were just white dots in the glow of cooking fires.
All of this at Kygo’s command. And under the protection of my power.
I glanced at Kygo. He did not look left or right, and his bearing had straightened from the relaxed meld of horse and man into regal authority. All of his attention was focused on the group of six men bowing to us outside a huge round tent, its position and size distinguishing it as a meetinghouse.
I had a moment of absurd pleasure as I reined Ren neatly in beside Kygo’s horse. I had not fallen off,