“At least the storm seems to have passed,” Aelia volunteered, leaning over to sniff the soup and adding a little more salt. As if that was going to help.
The thunder had indeed settled from the bone-rattling boom it had been to a comforting rumble, and the wind no longer howled through the gaps in the wooden slats of the barn walls. The rhythmic chomping of the horses, the patter of the rain outside, combined with the cheerful snap and crackle of the fire, brought a comforting feel to the derelict barn.
“Just as well. I’m not sure the barn could have withstood much more of it.” He sat down, positioning his pack behind himand leaning back on it. He stretched his legs out, placing his boots as close to the fire as he dared in an attempt to dry them.
Keeran clasped his fingers behind his head, closed his eyes, and arched backwards to stretch out his aching shoulder blades. He didn’t relish the thought of another whole day in the saddle tomorrow. When he opened his eyes again, he caught Aelia staring at him, her gaze locked onto where his arms were tense and straining as he stretched. She snapped her attention back to the soup, using a cloth to pour it from the pot. Keeran hardly noticed the unappetising way it sloshed into their bowls, lumps of gods only knew what splashing into the brown water. He was far too preoccupied with that blush that had made an appearance once more.
She must have felt it too, that charge that had crackled between them with more ferocity than the storm raging outside. The thought made him smile quietly to himself as she handed him his bowl.
It quickly vanished as he took his first mouthful. Holy Mother, that was rough.
Feeling her eyes on him, he quickly swallowed, fighting his body’s reflex to immediately bring it back up.
“Mmm,” was all he trusted himself to say when he finally dared lift his gaze to meet hers. Fortunately, it seemed sufficient to pacify her, and she tucked into her own without so much as a grimace.
He looked down at the bowl, full to the absolute brim, and prepared himself for the challenge of finishing it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Keeran woke to the cheerful twitter of birds, rejoicing in their being alive to see in the new day after the fearsome storm the night before.
He groaned as he pushed himself off the hard ground, his joints protesting a night in wet clothes, on cold stone. Aelia was already up and packing, the horses tacked up and ready to go.
“You’re up early,” he said, running a hand through his hair and squinting up at her.
“Force of habit.” She wrenched the straps of the saddle tight over her pack, securing it in place. “And we lost time yesterday. If we set out early, we can make it up today.”
“The Astraea will have lost time too,” Keeran pointed out, stretching his neck until it popped, some of the tension in it easing instantly.
“All the more reason to crack on.” Aelia gave her saddlebags one final check before patting the horse on the neck. “Means we can gain on them.”
“Can we gain on them after breakfast?” Keeran asked, wryly.
Aelia just pointed to a small parcel wrapped in cloth beside him. He reached over and pulled it closer, flipping open the fabric to reveal some sorry-looking berries and some dried meat.He’d take them any day rather than another of her culinary experiments.
“Well, it appears you’ve thought of everything,” he said, hauling himself to his feet and rolling up his blanket.
A few minutes later, they were leading the horses out into the crisp morning air. He breathed it in, the fresh tang only a storm could create. By the time he opened his eyes, Aelia was already swinging herself into the saddle, wincing but managing. She’d applied the poultice again last night, an act that had had him disappearing to check on the horses, and there was no doubt it was helping.
Tugging on her reins, she turned her horse towards the road.
“I’m going to see if I can hunt us something to cook later. If you follow the road, I’ll catch up with you,” he called after her, making her stop and swivel in the saddle. She looked at him for a long moment before nodding.
“See you later then.” She nudged her horse into a trot and took off through the long grass.
Keeran watched her go until his horse nudged him with its dark nose, snapping him out of his trance.
“You’re as impatient as she is,” he said, running a palm over the long brow of his gentle-eyed companion. “I suppose you’re right, though, we should make a move, especially if we’re going to catch up with her.”
Keeran swung himself into the saddle, careful to lower himself into it gently. He was by no means easy cargo for the horse to carry, and he didn’t need to make its job any harder than it had to be.
He clicked his tongue and brushed his heels against its side, heading in the opposite direction to Aelia. The tall grass of the plains surrounding Drias stretched in endless monotony in every direction, all the way back to Aelia’s forests in the South. Keeran didn’t expect there to be any trouble coming their wayfrom Drias, there were too many people passing in and out of the town for anyone to have associated him with the deaths of the three artemians. But it was reassuring to know that with his eyesight, he’d see anyone coming across the vast expanse of uninterrupted grass well before they saw him.
Unfortunately, the same could be said of any game he might come across. It was far from ideal hunting grounds, with very few places to hide, but that suited Keeran just fine. He was in desperate need of a challenge, of a distraction.
There was little more than a light breeze to ruffle the seeded heads of the grass tickling his horse’s belly, but it was enough to carry the subtle scent of a rabbit warren. Rabbit stew sounded pretty damn good after whatever the hell it was that Aelia had made last night.
Keeran dismounted and hobbled his horse, leaving it contentedly tucking into the lush grass, before setting off upwind.
