Gawain neared, drawing his horse to a stop next to her and Drake. "I see now why you insisted on acting as our guide. It would be difficult to find this place."
The sharp jut of mountains veiled the path they'd traveled, making it hard for those unfamiliar with the terrain to back track. Let alone give someone else directions.
Furthermore, most wouldn't think of attempting to find another path given the harsh terrain. They'd assume this was the only way, never realizing that a few miles away there was a much easier passage.
"I see Caden is still as paranoid as ever," Gawain said, staring at the cliffs above them where several sentries and a small force waited in the event of enemies.
There were a lot of ways Eva could take that statement. It would be easy to infer his words as an insult, but she didn't think he meant it that way.
"I've always admired that part of him. He's prepared. No matter what happens. Nothing ever truly surprises him. He always knows what's coming," Gawain mused, his gaze unseeing.
There was an edge of self-reproach in his tone that made Eva think those words were really aimed at himself. Curiosity moved through her at the thought of what could cause that sort of emotion. One that was gone almost as soon as it appeared.
Roscoe stood up in his stirrups a short distance away, distracting them. "I'll be damned. Witt and Buck. What the fuck are you two miscreants doing all the way out here?"
Eva looked over to find two men steering their horses in Roscoe's direction. The first had a roguish charm that reminded her of Roscoe and Ghost. His blond hair and attractive face only added to his draw. He moved with an ease and energy that said he was cut from the same cloth as her friends.
The man beside him was a little older. There were lines at the corner of his eyes and grooves around his mouth. His skin was more weathered than the other man, showing signs of a life spent outside.
"Reece implied you lot couldn't handle being up here on your own, so we came to make sure you didn't get lonely," the younger of the two drawled.
There was a twinkle in his eyes that took the sting out of his words. It was easy to see that he and Roscoe were on good terms.
"How'd you get stuck with this dumbass?" Roscoe tilted his head at the blond man as he turned his attention to the other man.
"Just unlucky, I guess," the older man's voice was a deep bass.
Eva straightened on Caia, interested in the stranger. Someone she suspected wasn't Trateri. His accent was all wrong. More like someone from the Highlands. Similar to Reece's in some ways. Yet everything else about him was Trateri—from his clothes to his gear to the way he held himself.
There was respect in the younger man's face when he spoke to him. Not the tension bordering on dislike that most Trateri had when dealing with throwaways. As far as Eva knew, the Trateri hadn't yet incorporated those from the Highlands into their ranks.
The Trateri were slow to trust outsiders. You had to prove yourself. Sometimes over and over again.
Yet this man seemed to fit with those around him.
Gawain's horse shifted under him as he glanced in the direction Eva was staring.
"Witt. That's his name," Gawain added when Eva looked at him in confusion. "Unlike you, he really is a throwaway. He was in the same set of tributes as Shea. Word is the two came from the same village."
A throwaway. Not exactly like her then since Eva had never considered herself within those ranks even if the Trateri often did. Still, he was similar enough that she would have liked a conversation with him. It was so rare to meet those like them who'd earned their place among the Trateri.
It'd be good to talk to someone with similar experiences. Compare notes and whatnot. Only fellow outsiders turned insiders like them could fully understand everything the other was going through.
Eva didn't have any further time to consider Witt as a shadow blotted out the sun.
Gawain and the Trateri around them hunkered down on their horses, reaching for their weapons as they scanned the sky trying to spot the winged creature above.
Within seconds, hardened warriors who inspired fear all across the Lowlands turned into excitable children.
Van brought his horse to a stop not far away, his head craning back so he could see.
"Kyren," Gawain breathed.
The word was repeated up and down the line. A loud war cry split the air, startling Eva. Once one Trateri had given voice to their excitement several followed.
Even someone as reserved and poised as Gawain failed to entirely suppress his wonder—
the yearning and awe.
