Page 2 of The Turncoat King
The wide-open vista lifted her spirits, and she realized the dark gloom of the forest and the feeling of being prey had weighed her down these last few days.
The hill leveled out and then dropped away again, and the sight below forced a gasp from her.
An army was moving, horses and foot soldiers, wagons pulled by the ungainly but ground-eating yakkuna so beloved and entwined in Venyatux culture. Trailing behind them were the camp supporters, from cooks to engineers.
She let the mare have her head, not slowing or trying to hide as she headed for the column.
This was a good thing.
A place to hide. A place where she wouldn't have to worry about her dwindling food supply, and a place where she could sleep at night, instead of being in a permanent state of watchfulness.
Her hunters could hide here, too, she conceded, and it would be harder, amongst so many people, to see them coming if they snuck up on her. But avoiding the army was impossible. She would rather be with them than try to skirt around them.
Anyway, the column of soldiers was surely headed for the same place she was. The thought made her heart leap in her chest and her eyes tear up.
She blinked the tears away.
She had a lot going for her here.
She could pretend to be a convincing Venyatux. She sorely doubted whoever followed her could do the same. They would be outsiders.
She would not.
“Halt.”
The shout was snatched away by the wind, so it took Ava a moment to hear it, even though the soldier who'd called out seemed to rise up in front of her like an apparition. By the time she had reined her horse in, the guard had his arrow notched and pointed at her.
He was massive, wearing his hair high in a ponytail on the crown of his head. It fell in a thick, twisted rope down his back.
“Sorry.” She smiled at him winningly while her mare danced beneath her, and wondered if the working she had embroidered into her cloak would protect her from an arrow shot at this close distance. “The wind made it hard to hear you.”
She had been taught official court Venyatux by Carila, her weapons and defense master, but she used the thick, regional accent from his home town which he had spoken in casual moments.
Her fluent use of his language had the guard lowering his arrow. “What are you doing away from the column?”
“I am joining it.” Ava kept her smile bright. “I missed the call to arms. My aunt didn't want me to leave and I think she kept it from me, but I heard about it in the end, and here I am.” She hit her chest with a closed fist in the Venyatux salute and bowed her head. “I am ready to serve in the name of the Whispering Grasses.”
The guard groaned, as if in pain. “Where are you from?”
“The border.” She nudged her horse closer to his, and with a sigh he slid his arrow back into its sheath and slung his bow over his shoulder.
“The border with Skäddar?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head. “Near Grai.” Carila had been from Grai. She knew more about it than anywhere else in Venyatu.
“So why are you coming from the direction of Grimwalt?” He eyed her suspiciously as he turned his horse back toward the column.
“It's the quickest route,” she said with a shrug. “Although I did keep out of sight when I cut through there. Didn't know if I needed some kind of permission.”
The guard snorted. “I don't either, but I'm guessing you do.”
She laughed. “Good thing I wasn't caught then.”
He grinned back at her.
They were close enough to the column now that Ava could smell the dust being kicked up by thousands of hooves. She gave a happy sigh, and it truly was heartfelt. People, excitement, movement. Everything she hadn't had for two years. “I can't wait to fight.”
The guard chuckled. “Don't get too excited. I'm not sure what position they'll give you. We need competent fighters.”
