“Oh, but she is, Ula.”
Ula’s golden eyes slipped into their periphery. After a moment of watching silvering night, she looked back to Luca, trying to read his face across the distance. Luca wasn’t sure what exactly she was trying to deduce, other than possibly to see if his viewpoint would project itself across his features for her.
“My princess is one of the best-trained hunters in the Sand and Sky. She won’t let herself be seen.”
At this, Ula shook her head, the linen she had wrapped around the fall of her long dark hair snagging gently against the pommel of the curved sword, which was slung across her back without Luca in the saddle. “Your confidence in her is more than I have in the sun continuing to rise.”
“I—” Luca started, only to be cut off by a guffaw from up ahead.
“To the stars, you are the absolute sappiest male in our entire species. Stableboy, why are you still looking for her?” Dunixi wrenched his whole body around, his neck red enough again that clearly it hurt too much to fold the skin with a turn of his head. The linen had done little to protect his skin, which was still a vibrant pink beneath the cloth and in the waning light. “Your princess may bedifferent,but she’s not coming, becauseshe doesn’t care.”
“I would like to remind all of you,” Urtzi said, voice proud and projected from his spot inches from Luca aboard a honeyed-butter palomino named Ferri, “that I thought we’d snatched the wrong boy. And perhaps we did. The stableboy isn’t her love.”
“If she doesn’t care, and I’m not her love, then you must let me go,” Luca argued, knowing quite well that his cheeks were pinking at the thought of Amarande’s heart finding him so. “I’m not worthit for you to drag around. I’m a liability, even—your man will be very disappointed that you’ve been hauling around no one of value. Return me and I’ll help you find your rightful hostage.”
Dunixi laughed again, but it was stiff, his shoulders still so as not to disrupt his neck. “Nice try, stableboy.”
The trees they’d been pointed toward were suddenly upon them. No water here, but shade, not that they needed that now—the sun had dipped below the western horizon, the mountains’ shadows falling long across the bowl of the Torrent.
Though this copse of trees was a respite from the wind and exposure, there were no other people in sight. Wherever they were going, whether it really was toward an actual ship or somewhere else entirely, was not somewhere many people seemed to want to go.
Near the middle of the strip of trees, Dunixi slowed his ghostly gelding, Boli, and swung a leg around. “Urtzi, rustle up our meal and secure the perimeter while you’re at it. Ula, graze the horses and double-check that bonehead’s perimeter work. Boy, sit down and watch me cook a meal you won’t enjoy.”
“Is that because you’re an awful cook?”
Dunixi grunted. “No, it’s because though we’ll give you enough water to keep you around, the truth is you can survive weeks without a morsel to eat.”
Luca decided not to remind the boy that Ula had given him dates for breakfast both this day and the last, plus part of her meal the night before. Perhaps the pain from his sunburn was making him forgetful.
The light died faster than Luca felt it ever had in the Itspi, the trees and high western mountains leeching it out in record time as the blond boy piled together sticks for a fire. Luca was surprised that he’d go to the trouble but didn’t question it—maybe Dunixi believed they weren’t being followed, that nobody cared that they were there, but Luca wouldn’t stop the boy from announcing theirpresence with flame and no protection such as what they’d had the night before.
Ula returned first and tied the horses in careful intervals around the camp, a makeshift fence against the interests of the night. Urtzi returned almost a half hour later, four dead hares hanging by their ears in his huge hands.
“This is exactly why I keep you around, my friend,” Dunixi said, snatching the hares away in greedy hands. “Don’t get excited, stableboy. There are four hares only because the hunter eats twice as much as everyone else.”
The Myrcellian smiled wide at Luca, but it wasn’t necessary; he believed the boy would have no trouble downing both hares. Urtzi had at least a head of height on Luca and was made of only hard things—muscles, bones, and ligaments. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Even Koldo would covet the chance to mold a soldier with a body like this one. Though, considering both his attitude and his opinion of women, she’d likely have much to mold.
Dunixi went about skinning and preparing the hares for the fire. And hewasa capable cook—his knife skills were as good as Maialen’s, and that was saying something. The hares were on a spit in record time and dressed with curds and whey pulled from a pouch within the blond boy’s saddlebag.
Urtzi made it a point to squeeze in next to Luca. The lean bodies of his two hares swam in sauced cheese curd upon a wooden plate pulled from Dunixi’s saddlebag. The Myrcellian ate them with all the gusto of someone who knew he was being treated, and it was clear he hoped Luca was watching, mouth watering. In truth, Luca was starving, but he didn’t show it, his body relaxed against the base of a tree, eyes set on the fire.
Ula sat next to him, savoring her food slowly, while Dunixi sat across from them, trying very hard to put on the same sort of show that Urtzi was. Luca watched as he tried to drink from his flask without tossing his head back at any angle that would upset theblistered skin. Luca drew in a thin breath, thinking back to many dinners in the kitchens at the Itspi, and Maialen healing more than just nightly hunger. Medikua Aritza was talented, but she cared little for a stream of worn castle staff. “Dunixi, if you’ll let me, I can calm your burn.”
Luca was surprised when the boy didn’t bat an eye at his name falling from his captive’s lips. Luca may have been a “stableboy” to him, but they were on this journey together and he would address both Dunixi and Urtzi with respect, even if they didn’t give it back to him in the same way Ula did. Moreover, he was quite sure the names every one of them preferred weren’t the ones they were given at birth. Not that it mattered.
“My burn?”
“Your neck. I can help your neck. You don’t even have to untie me, just allow me to use my hands.”
“I don’t—”
“Stop talking for a second and listen to Luca,” Ula snapped, tossing a hare bone into the fire. “You’ve looked like you might pass out all day.”
That shut him up. Luca met the Eritrian’s eyes across the fire.
“How about I describe what I’m going to do before I do it so you’re not surprised and you can decide if it’s worth it or not?” Luca offered.
At this, Dunixi didn’t say a word, which was actually slightly stunning to Luca. Unsure, he met Ula’s eyes for a moment and then pressed on, knowing the answer but asking it anyway. They didn’t need to know what he’d done with the oats. “When you knocked me out, I had a bag of rolled oats in my hand. Do you still have it?”
