The temple did sound interesting. It was a pity that she probably wouldn’t ever see it. “And what happens at the temple?”
That made him turn around. “You’ll have to ask the Nephilim after you speak to Alanna and the rest of the Hawks and we decide what to do,Claudia. Now keep quiet; I’m trying to listen.”
Lucilla leaned forward, trying to hear whatever it was Mathos was listening to. But all she could hear was the thudding of the horses’ hooves on the muddy paths and the muted song of birds she couldn’t see. Stupid ass.
A few long minutes later, he turned and looked at Tor, neither of them saying anything. Then Mathos shrugged and settled back into his saddle, and they continued in silence once more, the two men listening and watching carefully as they rode.
Several hours passed without any variation. The trees all started to look the same. The paths all looked the same. The sun presumably climbed overhead behind the gray blanket of clouds. And Lucilla became more and more bored, and more and more uncomfortable.
Long, detailed fantasies of what she was going to do with her life, based entirely on the books she’d read, had kept her amused for some time. She was going to travel, swim in the sea, visit famous market towns and go shopping. She was going to try different foods and meet different people. Make friends. Maybe even fall in love and, for the first time in her life, someone would love her back.
But there was only so long a person could daydream about things they’ve never seen or done. With every passing minute, her body ached more and her thirst grew. Planning adventures stopped distracting her and started annoying her. She had never done any of those things. Couldn’t imagine how she was going to achieve them. And she started to worry that she would make more silly mistakes, like with the map.
The whole idea was making her exhausted. And irritable. She wanted to stop and have a break. She wanted to have someone talk to her, not be stuck in silence yet again. She wanted food. And a drink.
But the last thing she wanted to do was seem weak—weaker—than they already thought she was. Than Mathos already thought she was. For some ridiculous reason, his opinion mattered.
Tor seemed to be prepared to forgive her just about anything, and everyone else she’d ever met dismissed her outright. But not Mathos. Mathos was interested in her and annoyed by her. He wanted more from her, and somehow she found herself wanting him to like her. Wanting him to stop looking at her like she was spoiled. Gods, that comment had hit her right where it hurt. And that made her even more cranky.
She squirmed and stretched, all while muttering nasty names for Mathos in her head. It was his fault that she was going north. His fault they couldn’t go to a village. His fault that she was so uncomfortable. He was the leader of this little mercenary gang, so all her discomfort was his responsibility.
“Time for a break,” Tor called from behind her, breaking into a particularly creative rant she was busy having in her head.
“What?” Mathos turned with a confused frown. “Why?”
Tor shrugged without replying, and Mathos gave him a frustrated look of disbelief.
She could have hugged Tor at that moment. Instead, she turned back to face him and gave him a huge, grateful smile.
“Definitely not,” Mathos said from the front, surprising them both.
She whipped back around. “Why not?”
Mathos looked between her and Tor, his face settling into an annoyed glower. “Because we’re close to the track that cuts through this forest, and who knows what we’ll find when we get there.”
“Surely a few minutes’ break to have a drink wouldn’t make much difference?” she demanded. “Tor wouldn’t have suggested it if he thought it was dangerous.”
“Is it Tor who wants the break,Claudia, or is it you?” Mathos asked belligerently. “Because Tor’s a soldier. He’s gone many, many hours without needing a break before, and I’m guessing he’ll survive again today. But if it’s you who wants the break, all you have to do is say the word. Give us the command, and we can all stop and have a rest.”
She narrowed her eyes. Damn, she hated the way he called her Claudia. And she really hated the way he kept emphasizing it, like she didn’t know her own damn made-up name. She also hated his condescending tone.
She blanked her face and stared at him, wishing they could take a break, but accepting that nothing could make her say so now.
When she didn’t reply, Mathos passed her a waterskin, waited for her to take a long drink, and then grunted and turned back. Leading them onward once more.
Lucilla stared at his back and imagined all the nasty things she was going to say to him when she was finally able to be rid of the patronizing bastard.
They reached a dirt track cutting through the woods a short while later, and the smug air that rolled off Mathos made her want to throw something at the back of his head. She turned to look at Tor, who gave her a small smile of commiseration.
She didn’t bother saying anything, simply added another curse to the list she was keeping in her mind.
They stopped where they were, hidden in the darkness of the trees, for long moments, as the men carefully scanned the road and its surrounding woodland.
“Is it safe on the road?” she whispered to Tor.
“No. We can’t stay on it long, but the Derrow River lies to the north and west of us. It’s deep and fast; the horses would have to swim. If we can stay on this road for ten minutes, we can go over the old bridge and then branch off as quickly as we can. Overall, it’s less risky than the river, particularly since we haven’t seen anyone looking for us in all this time.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to just go the other way?”
