Guardian of Calandria | ✔️

Chapter Nine

          "Are we there yet?" Sabina whined.

"For the thousandth time, no," Demitra said. "I'm going to shove a gag in her throat."

"My bum hurts. The horse smells. It's cold. We've been riding for hours without a break. I'm hungry. Why can't we—"

"If you don't shut your mouth and quit your bitching, forget the gag. I'm going to cut out your tongue!" Demitra shouted. "How can you be so calm with her whining?"

Ry didn't respond. He continued to stare at the cloud covered skies. A chill rattled his bones watching the clouds darken from a bright gray to an imposing near black the farther west they traveled. Snow would fall soon and it both worried him and exhilarated him. He loved the snow. Back in the Glades they never saw it much, but some of his trips with his father took them far enough north he'd seen it. As a boy he enjoyed building men from the snow or having fights with his father. Icicles were fun to lick as they melted. He'd learned to rub berries against the slick surface to make a tasty snack. But the thought of riding in it for an extended period had his nerves on edge. Snow had a way of making travelers lose their way.

Something hit his head. He stopped staring at the sky to watch an apple drop against the dirt road. His head tilted up to find the source of the attack. Demitra was digging in her satchel, Ry assumed to pull out more ammo. Her eyes narrowed and her braids of her hair shifted with the shake of her head, making her beads click together.

"How can you tolerate her whimpering?"

Ry shrugged and dug berries out of each ear. His lips hardened in an arch. "I have three younger sisters. You learn ways to dull their babble. Berries don't block everything, and they make a mess if they're too ripe, but they block enough that she doesn't sound like a complete prat."

"I'm not a prat! I'm still your Princess."

"Princess look alike." Ry grinned. "How much farther do we need to go? Snow will fall soon."

"If we stay on the road, we should reach the coast within a few hours. We'll make camp outside the village there. After that we'll cut north to the border of Altian. We'll cross the border to resupply, less chance of running into Morag guards. Relations between Altian and Morag are precarious at best so they only cross over when it's high trade season."

"Precarious?" Sabina snorted. "Altian is full of trolls and peasants. They don't even have a king or queen! Their Wilders run amok and corrupt the land. Father worried their filth would spread to our kingdom. If it weren't for the fact we're the southernmost kingdom of Aseya, he would've blocked the borders from all trade."

"Your father was an idiot and do try to remember, when you talk about the Wilders, you're talking about your kind. Like it or not, you're part of that filth."

Ry threw berries at Sabina when she opened her mouth to respond. She shrieked when one went inside. He smiled as he nudged his horse to trot faster. Demitra shook her head when he joined alongside her.

"That girl . . . If she wasn't a Guardian I'd leave her here to rot."

"She does have a point." Ry looked back at Sabina.

She slumped in her saddle, resting against the horse's neck. Strands of dark hair hung from the wrap Demitra had tied to Sabina's head to hide her hair. Dirt caked her face making her skin appear a dark brown, another method to conceal her identity. Demitra had used magic to change Sabina's eyes color from the gentle cobalt to a dark brown which swallowed her pupils as if they were one color. Ry had to admit, if he didn't stare closely at her, the disguise worked. He would've figured her for a farmer or simple peasant at first glance. Take a longer look and she was still an almost identical match to the Princess.