The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [140]
Rosette looked at Jarrod. ‘Did you hear that?’
‘I did. Not encouraging.’
You could leave them some food, Maudi. That would slow them down.
‘What do you mean?’
Bury the pig bones, hide some bread and cheese. They might spend hours sniffing it out. It would give us time to get away.
‘Drayco says if we bury…’
‘I got it.’ Jarrod was already piling rocks over the pig carcass. ‘Tack up the horses.’
By noon, she wasn’t thinking about bears any more. She was doing all she could to find a way up and out of the endless gullies, ravines and canyons that riddled the foothills of the Prieta range. Drayco was leading, grumbling about the terrain, the snow and the lack of prey. As they came to the top of a particularly steep precipice, he stopped.
Maudi, finally some good news.
She caught up with him, bringing her horse to a halt. ‘Jarrod. Look at this!’
Jarrod whistled long and low. ‘So you found the lava fields. Well done.’
She scanned the horizon. ‘I can see all the way to the coast. That’s Morzone,’ she pointed. The seaport was a hazy grey smudge on the horizon. ‘It’s still a good two days’ ride though.’
‘Walk is more like it. We still have to get across that!’ He indicated the dull black expanse that lay before them.
‘And my horse is lame already.’
Are you two going to speculate all day or actually go down there?
Rosette roughed Drayco’s neck before moving on. I’m looking forward to getting off this hillside too, Dray. She sighed, relishing the thought of a hot bath and a full night’s sleep in a proper bed between clean sheets.
Nell leaned back in the saddle, her shoulders pressing into An’ Lawrence. He groaned. It was a lengthy descent into Treeon and no-one had spoken since they’d spotted the temple valley.
Exhausted from the hard ride of the past two days, Nell concentrated on getting them down the zigzag road without stumbling. An’ Lawrence clutched Scylla, keeping her steady between them. The feline was either asleep or unconscious, Nell wasn’t sure which. The only reassurance was the steady pulse of her femoral artery, palpable in the deep fur on the inside of her thigh, and her regular breathing.
Nell came alongside Clay, who moved his horse aside. Diablai was suddenly anxious to get home. His neck arched and his long black mane rippled with each stride, a contrast to the lethargy of Clay’s mount. The bard didn’t look much better. His skin was white, his body slumped in the saddle. His usually buoyant ringlets were lank and dull. Tear stains streaked his face. He hadn’t bothered to wash.
Nell sighed. ‘How are you holding up?’ she asked.
Clay looked at her for a moment, his eyes welling, tears spilling down his face. He shook his head and stared down at the reins held loosely in his hands.
‘They’ve spotted us,’ Zero said, riding up between them.
‘So it seems.’ Nell saw the guards, still small in the distance, gathered by the entrance to the temple valley.
‘They’ll need to send scouts. Check on the Lupins,’ An’ Lawrence said. ‘Zero, go down ahead and see to it. We’re right behind.’
Zero urged his mount forward.
‘Clay, go with him and find the healer. I want Scylla seen to immediately.’
Clay urged his horse forward into a jog. He didn’t look back.
Nell watched them trot down the road, her concern over the deception lessening. She hadn’t counted on the bard’s morbidity, but it was so genuine and infectious she almost felt that her daughter really was dead. She sent a silent blessing towards Rosette and Jarrod, wishing them safe crossing to the islands before shielding her thoughts. In the private depths of her mind, though, she pondered.
What was Rowan really brewing with La Makee? She didn’t trust either of them, especially after meeting Clay. Red hair was rare. If he’d been the one who had alarmed Jarrod in Lividica, the Sword Master was probably not telling her the whole truth. She knew Makee certainly wasn’t. That was expected, but the Sword Master’s deception rankled her.
‘I’m going to leave you rather quickly, Rowan,’ she said,