“Maybe, but it would take us a couple of days out of our way. Every day out here is a risk.”
Mathos gave them a stern look, and Lucilla swallowed her next question. The men were wound up tight enough as it was.
They made even better time on the road. Mathos and Tor flanked her, both seeming to be on high alert, constantly scanning the road, the woods on either side of them, even the sky.
By the time they reached the open fields that suggested they were nearing the village, she was exhausted and irritable. The tension in the two men had rubbed off on her, and she was jumpy and anxious as well as feeling well and truly battered.
Farmland rolled away in front of them, barren after the autumn harvest, the soil dug into deep furrows of dark earth, giving a clear view to the far distance where she could see tiny rows of what seemed to be cottages, with a small building on top of one of the hills overlooking the village. But the main change she noticed was how the fresh, clean scent of the woods was slowly overpowered by something that smelled truly hideous.
With every mile they covered the smell grew, burning the back of her throat until her eyes watered and she wished she could cover her face.
“I’m guessing we’re downwind from a pig farm,” Tor muttered beside her as she wrinkled her nose and did her best to breathe through her mouth.
“Where are the pigs?” she asked.
“They’ll have pens closer to the farm, but this time of year, the farmer will have taken them into the woods to look for acorns,” Tor replied.
“So why does it smell so bad?”
“They most likely spread the manure on the fields,” Tor explained.
She turned to look at him. “Does it always smell like this?”
Mathos snorted loudly. “What do you think, Princess?”
She ignored Tor’s conciliatory look and turned to face Mathos, her aching body and the hours of tension combining with her well-nurtured irritation toward the man. “I told you already that I’m not the princess.”
“Yes, yes,Claudia, we all know what you said.” Mathos turned in his saddle to look directly at her even though they were riding around a sharp turn in the road. “And I couldn’t agree more, you’re not a princess… you’re the queen. But since we’re all going along with this ridiculous story of yours, and since you’ve ruled out darlin’ and your majesty, princess it is.”
Lucilla felt her jaw drop. She had never been spoken to so rudely in her entire life. Even Claudius had never spoken to her like that.
“Listen to me, you arrogant piece of—” Her voice broke into a frightened scream as Penelope startled and suddenly sidestepped, the mare snorting and tossing her mane wildly as she spooked, crashing them into Tor and his massive destrier. Penelope neighed loudly, rearing up as Lucilla fought to grip her with her knees and cling on.
The sudden commotion made both the warhorses toss their heads angrily, although they were too experienced to do more, as Mathos and Tor quickly brought them to a controlled stop. Mathos reached across and grabbed Penelope’s halter, holding her firmly as she twitched and snorted and slowly settled.
“Take the lead rope,” Mathos commanded tersely, passing it across to Tor as he slid off Heracles and stalked to the side of the road.
He walked slowly back the way they’d come, peering intently into the bramble-filled ditch that marked the border of a farm. A short while later, he called loudly, “I can see you. You might as well come out.”
There was a scuffling noise, and Lucilla winced. She did not envy anyone planning to go through those brambles. Her nights in the woods had taught her that.
Mathos sighed. “You can’t go that way, you’ll get stuck. Come out here. I promise we won’t hurt you.”
“Yeah, right,” a child’s voice replied.
Mathos lowered himself to one knee on the side of the dusty road and held up his hands, just as he’d done for her the night before. “Look, no weapons.”
“No weaponsyet,” said the voice, dripping cynicism despite its youth.
“Gods.” Mathos dropped his forehead to his bent knee and rested for a moment before trying again. “How about this. I’m sure you didn’t spook the horse on purpose, I’m guessing you fell into that ditch trying to get away. I just want to check that you’re okay.”
“Was an accident!”
“Yes, it was an accident,” Mathos agreed calmly. “Come on; we’re in a hurry. I need you to climb up here so we can make sure you haven’t broken anything.”
“No fanks,” said the child.
“Look.” Mathos’s voice dropped to a growl. “If I wanted to hurt you, I could just shoot you with my crossbow from here.”
