I scowl at our party of six. “Three?”
“There are no more to be bought. As it is, we’re taking the inn keeper’s only two—for an exorbitant price, I might add—and I agreed to have two younger, stronger replacements sent once we reach Primewood.”
With a sugared scone halfway to my mouth, I freeze. “But we’re not going to Primewood.”
Irving gives me an exasperated look. “Anwen, we can’t travel through Vernow on the old nag I bought today.”
Galinor sets his hand on my arm. “Come as far as my castle. We will provide you with all the supplies you need.”
That sounds reasonable, and it gives Galinor a little more time to change his mind about joining us. I finally nod. Galinor flashes me a reassuring smile and then moves his hand back.
When we’ve all finished breakfast, we go to the small fenced pasture behind the inn to examine the new horses Irving has bought. Danver sniffs around, looking for mice. Marigold and I sit on the old fence as the men inspect the lot. It would be nice to have Pippa’s riding tunic again, but I gave it back when we left Lauramore. Instead, I’m in Leonora’s rose dress, and I must be careful not to snag the delicate trim on the splintering wood.
Irving inspects a gray horse’s teeth. “This one is abouttwenty.” Disgusted, he moves on to the next. “Same with this one.”
Bran checks out the last. “Eighteen, maybe a little older.”
“We’ll have to double up,” Galinor says. “Who’s riding together?”
I meet his gaze and then look away.
“I’ll ride with Irving,” Marigold says. “Anwen can ride with Galinor, and Dristan and Bran will have to ride together.”
Dristan scowls at his brother. “Absolutely not.”
Marigold gives him a withering look. “Two men will have to ride together. It makes the most sense if it’s the two of you. Galinor is too large, and neither of you could put up with Irving for most of the day.”
Bran groans, but he doesn’t argue.
“We could leave Irving in a ditch,” Dristan suggests, eyeing Irving.
Irving grins. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Bran and Dristan finally accept our riding arrangement on the condition that we will switch occasionally. We’re all on our horses except for the two brothers.
“I will not sit in front,” Bran says, looking at Marigold and me as if to prove only women ride in front. “I’m eldest. I will ride in back.”
“I’m taller than you are,” Dristan argues. “You can’t see over me.”
Irving rolls his eyes. “Would the two of you hurry up?”
Finally, Bran gives in, but he gives Irving a good scowl before he mounts.
Chapter 9
As if the weather were part of the scheme to make the day worse, it begins to rain. It’s not a soft, light drizzle, either. Water pours from the sky, and the drops sting as they hit us.
My cloak is thoroughly drenched.
“Are you warm enough?” Galinor asks.
Rainwater drips from my eyelashes and runs down my face. I don’t even bother to wipe it away anymore. “I'm all right.”
The others don’t look any happier. The only bright side to the rain is that Bran and Dristan stopped bickering about an hour after riding in it.
“It could be worse,” Galinor says. “It could be snowing.”
At least snow is soft.
