Page 20 of Heart of Defiance

At my other side, with a careful distance between us, Landric makes a thoughtful sound. “Of course. They’d have a merchant from town bringing supplies regularly. They never bother with any grunt work they can make one of us do for them.”

It appears he’s right. The cart comes to a stop in front of the gate, and the driver waits while one of the guards scans the cargo: lumpy burlap sacks, casks of ale, a couple of baskets of fruit.

The guard steps back with his arms crossed over his chest. His brusque voice carries up the hill. “Commandant Paulo wants more of that pork roast tomorrow. And it’d better be fresher this time.”

The merchant bobs his head with obvious anxiety and murmurs something obsequious. The other guard pushes open the door and ushers in the cart.

Landric leans his chin on his folded hands. “That’s one way to get inside.”

Jostein knits his brow. “We couldn’t hide on that thing without the driver noticing us. He’d need to agree to the scheme.”

“I can’t imagine he likes his employers all that much,” I say.

“He probably likes not being slain by them.” Jostein tips his head to the side. “Let’s head over to town so we can at least find out where he’s coming from.”

“And grab ourselves something to eat,” Iko puts in. “I’m starving.”

My stomach gurgles in agreement. We found a patch ofwild raspberry bushes on our trek, but the relief that snack brought has long since faded.

We tramp down the far side of the hill to the spot where we left the horses to graze. As Jostein helps me into the saddle and then swings up behind me, I will down the flush that creeps into my cheeks.

There were only three animals in the stable by the guard post. It makes sense that I’d be the one to double up, since I weigh the least, and he was the only one confident in handling the horse with a passenger in front.

I lean tentatively against his broad chest, doing my best not to think about the warmth of his muscular thighs on either side of mine. His arms wrap loosely around me, almost a hug, as he flicks the reins.

I’m already getting tingles when I’m close to Iko. Panting after both of them seems a bit much.

And then there’s Landric, glancing over at us with a tightening of his mouth as if he’s not entirely happy seeing me in another man’s arms. The All-Giver only knows what’s going on in his head.

I do my best to focus on the terrain around us and staying balanced as we trot across the fields, taking an indirect route toward the town so we aren’t seen from the fort. I’ve only had the chance to ride a few times as a kid, many years ago. I forgot how unnerving being perched on a creature that has a mind of its own could be.

Jostein guides the stallion with total confidence, clicking his tongue so it perks its ears and steps a little faster. I turn my head so I can see his face at the edge of my vision. “You seem like you have a lot of experience with horses. Are you normally with the cavalry?”

Most of his colleagues who joined us once we met up with the captain were on foot.

He shakes his head, his chin grazing my hair. “My parents are horse breeders and trainers. I grew up with them. So my superior officers tend to give any riding-related tasks to me.”

“All the better for him to sweep pretty ladies off their feet,” Iko pipes up.

My cheeks outright flare, but Jostein simply snorts. “Or drag them away from disaster.”

I decide I’m better off keeping my mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

Not far from the first buildings of town, we pass a wagon that’s sagging amid the grass. One of the wheels has cracked through. Dirt stains the canvas covering on either side of a massive tear. I peer inside but find it empty. It looks like the owner must have taken out their cargo and abandoned it as unsalvageable, months if not years ago.

Because of our roundabout route, we circle around to the road just as the merchant’s cart is returning to the town. We tie the horses at a hitching post on the main street and amble along at a cautious distance until we see him guide it around back of a grocer’s shop a few streets beyond the central square.

The four of us wander into the shop as if just there to stock up on provisions. As Jostein and Iko pick out apples and eggs and a couple bottles of milk, voices filter from the back room—the merchant and his wife, I suspect.

“The delivery went smoothly?” she asks.

“No trouble at all. I’ll just need to speak to the butcher tonight. As long as we keep them happy up there at the fort, we’ve nothing to worry about.”

I find myself exchanging a glance with Landric. That attitude doesn’t bode well for convincing him to turn on the soldiers.

Iko’s faint grimace suggests he’s drawn the same conclusion. He and Jostein pay the clerk for our selections, and we duck back out, gnawing on the apples and passing around one of the bottles.

The cool creaminess of the milk takes the edge off my hunger but doesn’t lift my spirits. “Now what?”

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