Page 99 of The Turncoat King
The uneasiness had been a consistent tingle at the back of her neck. In her old cloak, she’d have been able to pinpoint where the spy was.
Now the hills were behind them, though, and they had nothing but open plain between themselves and the columns. The feeling of being watched had eased a few hours ago and she felt light now that the weight of the stare had lifted off her.
“What were you doing this morning?” Catja had been riding beside her for a while and Ava turned to look at her in surprise.
“With the strips of fabric,” Catja clarified.
Ava hadn’t realized anyone had seen her. Luc had kept the others distracted for her, but obviously not Catja.
“Marking locations,” she said. This was one of the things that had taken time from working on her own cloak, or knitting Luc’s tunic. But it was worth it.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Catja asked. “The Kassian might see them.”
Ava hoped they did. Hoped they touched them.
She had thought a lot about them being drawn to look at them.
She really hoped they would be as attracted to those strips as the wine merchant had been to the fabric she had worked to influence him.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if they do. They mean nothing. Luc thought it would help with the idea that we were going over to scout crossing points. It won’t matter if they find them or not, not if we’re going to surprise them in the hills. And if they do find them, it’ll make them think they were right about our reason for the trip.”
“Oh.” The Venyatux soldier gave a sudden laugh. “That’s actually clever.”
Suddenly, Luc gave a yip up ahead, then turned his horse in an arc, coming up beside her. “The columns are ahead.”
Catja gave a ululation of joy and let her horse go, and as if they suddenly all knew home, and oats, and friends were ahead, the horses broke into a gallop.
The wind whipped her short hair and blew back her cloak, and Ava couldn’t help but join in Catja’s ululation.
She looked across at Luc and laughed, and he laughed back.
The tie at the end of Catja’s long braid came loose, and her hair blew out like the unfurling of a banner as they thundered across the dry, cold ground.
They were a dusty, travel-worn group, and yet they moved well together, the accomplished riders at the front, back and sides which left Ava in the middle.
Ever since she’d been left behind in the hills, Luc had made sure she was always in the heart of the group, and no one had complained or tried to make her feel bad about it.
Like with Kikir, the Skäddar warrior, and his sudden friendliness toward her, she wondered if wearing protection she had created for them made them accept her more.
It disturbed her a little, but there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted them protected, and she hadn’t done anything deliberate to make them like her.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with the workings. Maybe she was just likeable.
She laughed at the thought, and then a cry went up ahead of them and suddenly the scouts were around them, whooping their welcome.
It felt good to be back.
Especially after the cat and mouse games of the last three days.
The general was riding at the front of the column with Raun-Tu and Fervanti, and they slowed as they reached her.
Everyone but Luc, Deni and herself kept going, trotting into the slow moving column. Catja gave her a sympathetic smile and then disappeared with a wave, and Ava heard her call hello to a friend.
It was nearly time for the army to stop for the night, but this couldn’t wait.
Dak and Massi arrived while they settled into the slower pace of the Rising Wave, and Ava thought their greetings to her were warmer than they’d been before.
See, she told herself. Likeable.
