When I emerge from my room half an hour later, I’m startled to discover Erik rubbing a shine into his black boots. He hasn’t just changed, but he’s buttoned into his guard uniform, including all his weapons. He even has a crossbow slung over one shoulder, extra bolts in a narrow quiver along the outside of his thigh. After more than a week seeing him in his shirtsleeves, I’d forgotten he could lookquitethis imposing.
“You’re going as a guard?” I say.
His eyebrows go up, and he straightens, tossing the rag into his trunk. “That’s how I came. Did you expect otherwise?”
I have no idea. Maybe I should have figured. I really need to get it together. “So . . . ?farewell to Erik, then,” I say. “Welcome back, Rocco.”
He grins. “Either is really fine.” He pauses, considering. “Though . . . ?perhaps in front of Rian, it might give you an edge of authority if you stuck with ‘Rocco.’ The prince would have.” He looks me over, his gaze approving until he spots the dagger.
The smile vanishes, and he sighs. “Do you know how to use that?”
“I know where the pointy part goes.”
“Fair enough. Draw it then. Show me.”
Oh.I wasn’t prepared for that. But I reach across my body and draw the dagger, jabbing it at him, trying to look fierce.
I wait for him to tease me, but he doesn’t. He steps toward me and holds out a hand, gesturing for the weapon. “Point it down. If you’re not experienced with it, you’ll be stronger with a downward strike.” I let him take the weapon, and he demonstrates. “See?”
I nod, and he points at the belt. “Let it hang from your opposite side so it’s beside your hand. It’ll be easier to draw this way.”
He sounds so official, and I swallow, then twist the sheath until it’s hanging on the opposite side of the buckle.
But once I’m done, he holds my gaze, and he doesn’t return the dagger. “You can’t kill him.”
“I can look like I’m ready to.” I hold out my hand.
“Fair enough.” He hands me the weapon, and I take it, point down this time. I mimic his downward strike, and he’s right. There is a lot more power to it.
He smiles. “See?”
I nod, then slam the dagger into the sheath. I already feel better.
He picks up a pack and tosses it over one shoulder. No wince at all this time. Maybe the new bandage is helping. “I’ve put together some supplies in case we get hungry.” He rolls his eyes. “Or for when trouble finds us.”
I hadn’t considered getting into trouble. “Here.” I hold out my hand, gesturing for the pack. “Let me add another set of bandaging supplies then. Just in case.”
He sets it on the floor so I can add what I need. After I’ve tucked muslin and scissors and poultice supplies in among the other things, I buckle the bag closed and swing it ontomyshoulders. The weight slams into my back, a lot heavier than I expected, and I have to sidestep to balance out the weight.
Erik gives me alook, but I stare right back at him. He sighs and reaches for the pack, but I take a step away as if he’s going to yank it off my shoulders.
“I’ve got it,” I say hotly. “You don’t have to carryeverything.”
He raises an eyebrow. “May I adjust the straps so you don’t fall over?”
“Hilarious.” But I step forward again, and he tightens the straps, then buckles a length of leather at the base of my rib cage, securing it all in place.
Once he’s done, he gives the strap a steady tug, back and forth. “See?”
The pack barely shifts on my back—but his tugging makes me sway in a silly way, and I realize he’s teasing. He really is very brotherly.
I give him a sheepish smile. “Somuch better. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Then we’re off.
Much like when we set off in the boat, there’s no one around. The air is warm, the trees humming with insects. Sweat blooms under the pack almost immediately, but I don’t complain. The weight, the effort, it all makes mefeelsomething. Erik was right earlier. I do need to move.
