He tightened his lips then grated, “I am a knight of the kingdom of Pradwick. You should show your respect.”
“And we’re out in the middle of nowhere so I don’t think we need to adhere to the formalities of your kingdom. Although, I’m not completely stupid, I will act like I’m supposed to when we get to Frother, okay?”
“You should at least thank me for saving you.”
She screwed up her nose. “You didn’t save me, I saved myself.” She glanced at the child. “And her.”
Horland’s jaw tightened. “If I hadn’t come upon you and the brigands who captured you, you would never have gotten free.”
“I would have too. I had a plan.”
“That toothpick? And once you opened the cage, I expect you think they would have just let you walk off into the night.”
She clicked her tongue. “I’m not dumb. I would have waited until they were asleep.”
“And they were not that stupid, they would have taken turns to guard the campsite.”
“Oh baloney. They were that stupid, believe me.”
Something about her had Horland’s senses on alert. She seemed familiar yet wholly unknown. He noted her eyes weren’t entirely green—specks of amber glinted within them. Despite his annoyance at her disrespect, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her face was speckled with freckles and he guessed she had spent much time out of doors, mayhap a farmgirl—no, her clothes suggested something higher born. He looked harder at her apparel.
Her fine cloak and dress appeared to be not long out of the seamstress’s hands, and both were tailored perfectly to her body. He hadn’t seen a more beautiful woman, not since the day he met Patricia. Now that the woman his friend had married came to mind, Horland was convinced the woman before him could be some relation but no, Patricia had told Horland her twin sister, Dianne, was her only family. He shook his head. It was just a coincidence. He studied her. Except for the color of her hair, Patricia, Dianne, and the woman before him could have been triplets.
“Do you have any food?”
Horland narrowed his eyes. She was far too forthright for his taste.
“Not for me, for the little girl. She’ll need her strength to keep up with us.”
He knelt and put his bag on the ground. He shoved his hand in his bag, but his injury made itself known once more and he groaned.
“You’ve been hurt,” Briana said, touching her fingers gently to his shoulder.
“It is nothing.”
“Oh, it’s something all right.” She grabbed the cut material and quickly ripped it apart.
Horland stared at his bloody arm. “What are you doing?”
She shrugged. “It was already ripped.” She peered closely at the wound. “It’s not bad, but you could still get an infection.” She grinned. “Have you got any roots or plants or something that we could use, like, for medicine?”
He frowned. “No.”
“You must know of some though, right?”
Horland felt stupid then. He didn’t know of any. Any injuries he or his men sustained were always looked after by the closest town’s wise woman or a priest. His shoulders fell and he shook his head. “No.”
“Well that’s just silly. I would have expected King Pradwick to train his men in on-the-fly doctoring.”
She was talking nonsense. “There is someone at my destination who can help. As you said, it is not life threatening. Just leave it for now.”
He resumed searching his bag.
“No, not life threatening... yet.”
He ignored her.
After rummaging through the contents, he smiled at the girl and handed her a chunk of bread. She took it, dipped into a curtsy, and broke the bread in half, handing some to Briana.
