The Claimed: A Clash of Copper and Gold

Chapter 20: Stories of the Past

I dug out a handful of nuts. "What if I need help fighting off wildcats and ruffians?"

"Guards and bounty hunters are a bigger threat. And they are looking for me, not you."

"With the two of us together, we can trade off keeping watch."

His gaze dropped to the meat jar in his hands, and his fingers tapped the glass sporadically. "Why are you being so stubborn about this?"

"I've always been stubborn."

"Well, I've always been difficult."

"But I'm more stubborn than you are difficult. You're not getting out of this, Niako."

I watched thoughts race across his face, and I waited for some convoluted rebuttal. But after a minute, Niako just plucked a piece of meat from the jar and began to eat.

* * *

We followed the stream east along the Busk-Rakim border until the rivulets converged into a roaring river that carved the land with the smooth precision of Yuri's whittling. I asked Niako to lead the way, mostly because I did not trust him to tell me if he was about to fall off of his horse. Watching the sharp lines of his shoulders and back against the tan and beige rocks, I thought he looked too stiff - a rigid stance to compensate for lingering pain. But each time I asked him if he needed to stop, he refused.

My own horse clopped along the uneven terrain, jostling me. As the sun sank down behind our backs, a deep ache settled into my thighs and lower back. 

When the sun slipped behind the horizon, I said, "Let's find somewhere we can hide the horses so we can eat and then sleep."

Without turning around, Niako said, "We need to travel more ground today than any guards who might be coming after us."

"But we also need to rest so we are still able to ride tomorrow."

Niako squared his shoulders. "I'm fine, Toom. I don't need rest."

"Well, I need rest. I'm tired and hungry and sore."

He pulled up on the reins and twisted around to glance at me. When he turned to face forward again, he said, "Alright, we'll find a place to stop."

Finding a good place to stop proved challenging. The lush forest had dwindled to spindly leafless trees poking out of the rocky land like nose hairs and occasional coniferous bushes bubbling up like moles. None of the foliage would hide the horses from someone traveling along the river.

When we finally spotted a spattering of trees and bushes a couple hundred feet from the river, we directed the horses there. My own thighs trembled upon dismount, and I didn't notice Niako's struggle until he very nearly tumbled off of his horse. I lunged a couple steps toward him, but he managed to straighten himself before I reached him, clinging to the saddle horn and the back of the saddle as his feet hit the ground. Then he staggered back two steps before easing himself down. 

From where he sat, he raised an eyebrow at me, daring me to say something.

I turned to unsaddle the horses.

This time, I rummaged through the saddlebags of Niako's horse to find out what provisions Epsa had given us. I examined each package briefly before flipping it onto the ground behind me. Pressed out and dried fish. Crusty biscuits. Dried oats. But when I pulled out the next package, I froze, fingers crinkling the canvas sack.

Cinnamon cake crisps.

"Toom? You alright?"

I swallowed. "Yes, I just... my father made cinnamon cake crisps on the Day of Truth."