She found herself softening towards hercompanions, no matter how many times she told herself that theyweren’t her friends.
They treated her as an equal. Like someonewhose opinion mattered. It had been a long time since she had that,since before the Badlands, if she had ever had it to this extent atall. She thought she might have been building toward this type ofgive and take with Witt and Dane, but that had been taken awaybefore she knew if it was real or not.
She shut her eyes, determined to get somerest before they woke her for her shift as night watch in a fewhours.
It didn’t take long for her body to sinkgratefully into sleep.
Eamon rose from the pile of stones he’d beenexamining. They were assembled into a pyramid, and a short stickstuck out of the side. It pointed to the left.
“Looks like you knew what you were doingafter all,” he told Shea, coming to stand beside her horse. Hetilted his head back to smile at her.
She gave a short nod, her eyes going back tothat pile of rocks. They had found signs where a large group hadset up camp, but she hadn’t been sure it was the group they werelooking for. Judging by the quick smiles of the men, nobody sharedher concerns.
She had a feeling it had something to do withthat pile but was afraid to ask in case it was knowledge a realscout would have.
They no doubt had their own trail sign tocommunicate with their people. Shea’s people had a method as welland used it for things such as a warning someone of danger or as asignal that they had come this way.
She couldn’t help but feel like a weight hadbeen lifted off her shoulders. They’d been on the trail for elevendays now, and she was beginning to worry they weren’t going to findthe company they’d been tasked with locating. For the past dayevery time Eamon or one of the others had glanced at her, she’dtensed thinking they were about to challenge her abilities.
That hadn’t happened though, even when shehad started taking them in a sweeping crisscross pattern for mostof the last day, checking the back trail for signs of people theymay have missed.
“What’re you talking about?” Buck askedriding up beside them. “Pip squeak could find his way blind.”
Eamon shook his head and snorted beforemounting his horse. “Signs say they went west. Looks like the campfire was from last night so we’re only about half a day behindthem. They’ll be moving slower than us, so if we ride hard, we’llbe able to catch them before the sun sets.”
“Finally,” Buck said. “Maybe we’ll get a hotmeal tonight.”
“At the very least we’ll get to eat somethingbesides hard tack and this damn jerky,” Eamon returned as they wentsingle file down the hill.
“That’d be nice,” Sam said dreamily. Aftereleven days of trail food, everyone was ready for something new.Even Shea felt her mouth water at the thought of something besidesjerky.
Conversation dropped off as they rode, eachkeeping an eye on their surroundings.
The group encountered more and more signsthat people had come this way. From the excrement a horse left tohoof prints to the occasional piece of manmade goods. The path waseasy to follow for anyone able to read it.
A man stood from an outcropping of rocks andleveled a bow at them. “Halt and state your business.”
Eamon pulled on his reins and held up onehand. “We’re scouts from the Dawn’s Rider Company here to see yourcommander.”
The cross bow dipped slightly but stayedpointed in their general direction. “The moon rises over the summerplains.”
“But sets over the burning snakes,” Eamonreturned.
At Eamon’s response, the man pointed thecross bow to the ground and waved them past. Eamon took lead andthe rest followed. Shea looked back once to see the guard settleinto position behind a tangle of bushes that hid him from view. Sheturned forward again.
A challenge and response. An effective way ofdetermining friend from foe.
How often did those codes change and werethere different ones for different companies? If someone knew thecodes, they could slip in and out of camps with little trouble.
They cantered around a copse of trees andcame upon a campsite filled with their quarry. The group, numberingat two hundred, was much smaller than those they left in thevalley. This was a short term camp, meant only for the night. Therewere no tents, but they’d set up crude pallets for sleeping andseveral campfires dotted the clearing. From the smell of things,someone had already started dinner.
Eamon and Buck dismounted. Shea followedtheir lead, unsaddling her horse and tying it next to theirs. Ahand landed on her shoulder, startling her.
“You’re with me,” Eamon told her.
Sam slipped up to her and slid her pack andsaddle from her hands. “I’ll set your things next to ours for whenyou’re done.”
“Thanks,” she said softly.
