I let Crisp fall back into a slower canter, the last of my hope of bonding with the other saddles sparking out, like the wet wick of a candle.
Time to accept it, to be glad that at least I have one friend in this travel party. One friend, and one gruff, protective guard who killed a king to save me. That’s much more than I ever expected to have.
After a few short minutes of brooding alone in silence, Sail comes trotting up beside me, just like I knew he would. “Ignore Polly. She’s just jealous.”
I give him a wry look, pretending not to be hurt, not to care. “Ignore her. Just like you ignored Frilly yesterday?”
The tops of his cheeks redden, and he whips his face forward. “What? No, nothing happened. She just needed an extra blanket, that was all.”
“Relax. I’m just teasing.”
Sail glances around, as if worried someone might hear and believe anything other than the innocent truth. I understand the worry though, since the royal saddles are just that—for royalty. They’re not permitted to be with anyone else. And even gossip could destroy both Frilly and Sail both—something I won’t let happen.
“You have any girls pining for you back at home?” I ask, curious about his life outside of the army, when he’s not wearing armor or carrying a sword.
Sail flashes that boyish charm of his again as he leans toward me. “Just a few,” he jokes. “Three or four, but they don’t pine nearly as much as I want them to.”
I snicker. “Is that so? Well, I hope you treat them kindly.”
“I treat them very kindly. This boy from the shanties has got a few tricks up his sleeve.”
Another laugh spills from my mouth. “Care to share these tricks?”
Sail enthusiastically opens his mouth to answer, but Digby appears at my other side again, cutting in with a scowl. “No sharing tricks with the king’s favored,” he snaps in exasperation. “Do you want King Midas to cut off your head and cast it in gold, boy?”
Sail goes pale and shakes his head. “No, sir.”
I sigh and look over at my stoic, ever-grumpy guard. “Don’t be such a killjoy, Dig.”
“Carriage,” he replies gruffly.
“No, thank you,” I reply sweetly.
He sighs at my stubbornness, and I smile at his aggravation. It’s not a drinking game by any means, but it’s still the most fun I’ve had with Digby, and he’s talking to me now more than ever. I count it as a major victory.
While our group carries on, one after the other, Sail entertains me with stories of growing up with four older brothers, distracting me enough that I barely notice the ache in my legs.
The clouds roil over us like a curled surf of a moody sea, tossing arctic mist in the air. The horses in front create the snow breaks for the rest of us to walk, but trudging through thick snow to cut a path is tiring and difficult, even for our hardy horses, so Digby constantly rotates out the leads.
As the night wears on, the temperature seems to plummet, so cold that it even numbs my aching thighs. When the wind picks up, it’s so brutal that Sail doesn’t once brag about being right about the storm.
Soon, everyone is bracing against it, bodies hunched over on their horses and fabric wrapped around faces and heads to keep the ripping chill from tearing through us.
Digby comes galloping back to my side, his heavy cloak billowing around him. “Carriage,” he says, and this time, it’s an order.
I nod, finally relenting, because I’d be an idiot not to take advantage of the fact that I can get out of the frigid and windy cold. The skies are warning us, giving us time to prepare before the clouds unleash whatever they have held in their bellies, and as much as I like to ride out in the open, I’d rather not be out in a blizzard.
With Sail beside me, I quickly maneuver Crisp to head for my carriage. I jump down, giving him a pat on his furry rump as I go.
I shoot Sail a guilty look and gesture toward the carriage. “You sure you can’t…”
But he shakes his head. “I’m alright. Us Sixth soldiers are a hardy lot. The cold doesn’t even touch us,” he lies with a wink, even as breath plumes in front of him like cloying smoke. “Go on in before you catch a chill.”
My driver stops just long enough for me to step into my carriage and close the door with a shiver. It lurches forward, and I sit back, rubbing my legs and shaking out my hands, soothing sore muscles, trying to bring a frictional warmth back into my limbs.
I watch out the window as the weather grows steadily worse, my light limited to the bobbing lanterns and masked moonlight.
Within the hour, the storm is fully upon us. The winds howl, becoming so strong that the windows rattle and the carriage wobbles, like a threat to tip. I move over, making sure to sit on the right side to help brace against the wind.
Then the hail starts to rain down, balls of ice clacking against the roof like a thousand knuckled raps. It’s so loud that it drowns out the horses’ hooves and the scraping of the carriage wheels, until all that exists is just a downpour of frozen pellets that funnel from the sky.
I chew on my nails as I look outside, hating that the guards and horses have to endure this. The hail must be punishing and painful every time it lands.
Luckily, I see us diverting off the path, heading for a copse of trees in the distance. They’re not the giant Pitching Pines, but they’re enough to offer us some cover from the storm, thank Divine.
But if I thought we were slow-moving before, it’s ten times worse now. With the hail and the wind battering us, it takes us nearly an hour to reach the line of trees.
The leaders of our group are just crossing beneath the first of the trees when my carriage is jolted. With a lurch, I’m flung onto the floor, my body hitting the opposite seat and the back of my head slamming against the wall.
“Shit,” I curse, rubbing the back of my head as I struggle to get back into the seat. The carriage gives another violent bounce, nearly sending me right back off the cushion again, but I brace myself against the walls, managing to stay upright.
It lurches to a stop, either on purpose or because of the thick snow, and then Digby is there, wrenching the door open, eyes scanning over me to check that I’m okay.
“I’m fine,” I assure him.
“Carriage is stuck,” he explains, holding the door open.
I climb out, my feet sinking into the deep snow that nearly reaches my knees.
“Alright?” Sail hollers as he brings Crisp forward.
All I can do is nod, because the howling wind would only rip my voice away. I use the stirrup to haul myself up, and as soon as I’m seated, Sail grasps both the reins and leads our horses through the thick snow, their heavy hooves forcing a path through the white.
Squinting past the wind, I look back to see that the other carriages are stuck too, the snow an easy three feet deep, holding the wheels hostage.
Guards are scrambling and shouting at each other, trying to free the horses and help the saddles, while leading everyone toward cover.
As soon as Sail and I reach the trees, we get instant relief from the hail. A few pellets still manage to hit us through the branches but not nearly as much.
The guards are chopping and stacking wood, making quick work to build a fire. When they try to light it, it spits and smokes, the stubborn, wet pieces refusing to light. Until Digby marches over, stern as ever. One cast of his flint sends sparks flying, catching onto the kindling like it doesn’t dare disobey him.
Sail leads me where the other horses are gathered, the snow cleared away so they have a spot to rest, a bale of hay already there waiting for them.
I jump down, ready to help with Crisp, but Sail insists that I go sit and get warm while he tends to the horses. He directs me to one of the downed logs in front of the growing fire, and I take a seat, feeling exhausted and shivering all the way through, even the marrow in my bones feeling brittle with cold. The other saddles slowly filter in too, sitting on other logs surrounding the flames, huddling next to each other for extra warmth.
I watch as the guards stack wood, set up tents, haul trunks, and shovel snow out of the way to build up a windbreak, not one of them idle while I shiver beside the weak fire, holding out my shaking, gloved hands to the flames.
The guards pile lightweight bricks near it, and I know each and every one will be gone as soon as they’re hot, to be stuffed into sleeping bags, helping to warm our feet while we rest.
The guards work efficiently and quickly, amazing me at how fast they get everything done. Soon, everyone is gathered near the fire, tents scattered everywhere a gap in the trees allows it.
The hail falls. Pebbles of ice peppering down, ricocheting off bark and branches alike, leaving splintered wood in its wake. It clacks against the trees like small explosions, while the branches overhead groan from the push of the wind.
It was just a matter of time before a storm rolled in. We’re lucky that we had mild nights for as long as we did.
I spot Sail off to the left setting up my tent, and I walk over to him where he’s busy staking the tarp into the ground and pulling the fabric taut.
“Want help?” I ask, my voice raised so I can be heard over the hail.
But Digby walks by with my rolled-up furs in his arms. “No. You don’t help.”
“We serve you, Miss Auren. Not the other way around,” Sail tells me.
“That’s good, because I don’t actually know how to put up a tent,” I joke, making Sail laugh.
After he gets the whole thing together, he and Digby quickly pile furs inside, along with my own lantern to give off both light and a little bit of heat, even though my tent is nearest to the fire.
I feel a little guilty at the special treatment, especially knowing that the guards and other saddles have to share a tent with five or six others, while I get one all to myself. Though, at least they get to share the body heat.
I practically inhale my portion of travel rations and boiled water, and then head for my tent early. There are a few more hours of night left, but we won’t be able to get back on the road for hours yet, based on the strength of the storm.
When he sees me coming, Sail gets up from his spot on the stump next to my tent, the spot he’ll be keeping watch while I rest. He holds the flap open for me to get in. “Looks like you lost that bet, hmm?”
“Ah, but I didn’t actually get to take the bet, did I?”
Sail laughs and shakes his head. The fact that he can always be in such good humor, regardless of what’s going on around him, is a testament to his character. “You got lucky this time. I won’t let you off the hook so easily next time.”
“Thanks for the warning. Good night.”
“Night, my lady.”
I duck inside, tying the flaps closed before I quickly strip and get dressed into a thick woolen nightgown and burrow myself beneath the covers of my furs, while I leave my boots to dry beside the lantern.
The hot brick at my feet feels like heaven, but I know its warmth won’t last for long. Not with the hail pelting the tent, not with the wind that seems to cut through every layer around me, slicing straight through.
The weather held for seven days, but now it’s broken into a million powerful pieces, sending shards raining down from the sky.
Outside, the storm seethes like a warning.
I’ll realize too late that I should’ve heeded it.
