Deathless (Editing)

Chapter 24: A Moment's Peace

For twelve days, we wandered the pitted and potted paths of the hunting trails. Tolly seemed to know these trails well, or, if he didn't, I was none the wiser. He rode beside me when the path allowed. When it narrowed, he took the lead.

We bathed in the icy streams, filled with fallen leaves and, at times, fish. We dined on rabbit, squirrel, and, if Tolly was quick enough, trout. We slept on a bed of pine straw and needles. Tolly was good with his hands, constructing shelter seemingly out of thin air. I would weave a canopy of leafy vines over whatever skeleton he had built for warmth. At night, we slept side-by-side under the heavy blankets that Mistress had lent to us from the Inn.

On the thirteenth night, he urged his horse to the main road. "This way," he called, eyes glimmering in the golden light of dusk. He grinned at me. It wasn't one of those teasing, fox-faced grins, either. Tolly looked genuinely pleased.

"The main road?" I called to him in disbelief.

Tolly slowed his horse until we were walking together. "The main road," he confirmed, flashing his brows at me.

"How bold."

"Even bolder is where we shall stay."

I cocked my head at this.

His head lulled to the side, and I followed the tilt of his head to see a small inn in the distance.

"Are you sure?" I asked. The thought of bathing in warm water instead of the frigid streams nearly blinded me with joy.

"My family owns these lands. We are safe here."

I glanced up, taking in the beautiful deciduous trees, fully dressed in autumnal colors. "Where are we?"

"The Middlelands."

"Your father is the lord of the Middlelands?" That didn't seem right, I thought to myself. I knew Tolly was the son of a lord, but I assumed the lord would be a lesser with a banner pledged to a middling sort of house.

"He is."

My brows flashed up. "Are you on good terms with your father?" With the way my luck had been going, I was waiting for a resounding, "no."

His lips split into a large smile in response. "Most years." He didn't miss my slight reservation at his joke. "My family's estate is a three-day slog."

"Will we stay there?"

"If Lady Life wishes."

"Can we stay and never leave?" I asked, half-teasingly.

"My father might make me his heir if you promise to be my wife."

I chuckled at this. "Would you prefer the life of a lord to that of a soldier?"

Tolly's grin faded, as if he was considering the question, and did not like the answer. "Come," he said, ready to change the topic, "I'll race you to the inn."

I grinned at his offer and sat straighter in the saddle. "Prepare to lose, Sir Bartholomew."

Tolly was the stronger rider by far, but his mount was no match for the warhorse. I bested him by a head. Breathless, I waited as he pulled up to me. His cheeks were flushed a bright pink, and his dark hair had become ruffled during the race.

"You won," he declared, chuckling lightly.

"Only barely."

He kicked his feet out of his stirrups and dismounted his horse with surprising grace and speed. "Don't be so modest," he teased, drawing to my side.