“Give the men another week of rest beforebreaking camp.” Fallon’s voice got louder as he moved closer to hissleeping space, where Shea sorted through his things to pack. “Meetus at the rendezvous point in two weeks.”
“The men will appreciate the break, butleaving you to take care of matters with only a small force doesn’tsit right,” Darius said.
Shea slung Fallon’s pack over her shoulderand carried it into the other chamber.
Neither man glanced up as she set the bagnext to hers by the door.
She’d packed only what she thought they’dneed. Luckily, another guard was in charge of securing provisionsand horses. All Shea had to worry about was clothing, a hygienekit, and other necessary items for surviving on the trail.
“No, this can’t wait. The people targeting meare getting bolder. They’ve started expanding their base andturning those loyal to me. We need to draw them out before theycause any more damage. We can’t go any further with our plans untilthis is addressed.”
Darius leaned on the table with both handsand bent his head. “This is risky. We could lose everything.”
Fallon straightened from where he wasstudying the map and slapped Darius on the back.
“The higher the risk, the greater the reward.Besides, I’ll have my own personal scout with me to help me keep meout of any trouble I find.”
Shea glanced over at him to find both him andDarius studying her. She arched an eyebrow and bent to tighten thestraps on her pack. She didn’t want anything coming undone.
“More likely she’ll leave you there torot.”
“Naw. I think I’m growing on her. She hasn’ttried to escape for a whole week.”
Shea rolled her eyes as Darius threw his headback and laughed. The statement wasn’t that funny.
Darius’ chuckles subsided, and he turned toFallon and held out his hand. “Good luck out there.”
“Ah, just think of it this way. If I die, youbecome the warlord.”
Darius’ lip curled as he shuddered. “Not forall the war spoils in this world. Nothing would be worth dealingwith nags on the council. I’d better find you safe and in one pieceat the rendezvous.”
Fallon smiled and walked over to Shea,picking up his pack and slinging it over one shoulder. “I’ll do mybest to spare you from such a horrible fate, old friend.”
“See that you do.”
Following his lead, Shea grabbed her gear.After adjusting her pack, she looked up to find Fallon watching herwith an enigmatic gaze. Meeting his eyes with a neutral gaze of herown, Shea waited for him to break the silence.
He did after a drawn out moment. “We’re offthen.”
Not waiting for a response, he headed outsidewith Shea hurrying to keep up with him. They hadn’t far to go, justto the small clearing next to his guards’ tents.
The men had arranged themselves in severalneat little lines, the horses’ nose to tail and each man sittingramrod straight. Their dress was the same as most of what Shea hadseen on the trail, well made, dark cloth for pants and varyingdarker colors for the loose shirts. There had to be over a hundredmen assembled, considerably larger than the parties Shea was usedto escorting. The truly impressive thing, however, wasn’t theclothes, the number of men, or the horses, though Shea would beinterested to find out how they managed to get the infernalcreatures to form such crisp lines. No, what was truly impressivewas the way every single man came to attention as soon as theirwarlord stepped into view.
As one, they saluted, banging closed fists totheir chests in a near synchronous clap of sound, then bowingslightly from the waist in a gesture of deep respect.
Fallon observed with an inscrutable look andwhen they had returned to their upright positions, he slapped hisfist to his chest in return.
Without another word, he headed for a pair ofhorses at the front of the line. The first was a sleek, blackstallion, prancing and tossing its head. At a glance, Shea couldtell he’d be a handful. Willful, spirited, and probablytemperamental.
No thanks.
Her eyes went to the second. She couldn’tquite call it a horse. It could best be described as a short, furrypony, with a barrel chest and thick stocky legs. It chewedenthusiastically at a piece of grass at its feet. Compared to theevery other mount out here, it was the ugly step cousin of horses.It didn’t belong at all.
Fallon immediately headed for the stallion,which meant the squat creature was Shea’s.
Great. Guess that settled how she would betreated. Not as the person who had saved their Warlord’s life,twice she might add, but as a lowly aide who couldn’t even betrusted with a real horse.
Shea sighed inwardly. She had a feeling sheknew how the next few days were going to go. She doubted it wouldbe as easy to earn these men’s regard as it had been the men ofDawn’s Riders.
