Page 37 of An Archer's Reckoning

I shook my head. “I think your old face would be more welcome than mine.”

“Old. I thank you for that.” He grunted. “That scowl of yours might just scare her to death.”

“Many women like my scowl, say it makes me look strong.”

“Strong as a horse’s ass.”

“Atikus! Such language. This is grandson abuse.”

“Grandson? Pshaw! Son, at best.” Atikus struggled to settle Jess’s limp body as I handed her up to him. “Grandparents cannot be accused of abuse. We are immune. It is part of common law.”

Despite our circumstances, despite Jess’s exhaustion and despair, despite my own heart’s shattered and jagged pieces slicing into the very core of me, the old Mage found a way to make me smile.

Afraid of immediate pursuit, we rode through that first night in three-hour stretches, stopping briefly to water the horses and eat a small meal.

Isabel had proven herself to be many things, determined foremost among them. We couldn’t afford more than an hour’s rest, even after a long night of riding. By morning, even I was struggling to remain upright. We decided rest was no longer a luxury and agreed to sleep through the daylight hours, then resume with another night of riding under the cover of darkness.

Jess slept through that day—and the night that followed.

Atikus grew concerned.

When the sun rose a second time, I allowed another extended break.

Jess was finally awake. She complained of sore muscles and a bleary head but was otherwise quiet. I watched as she glanced west, sometimes staring for long moments at a time. There was so much grief and weariness in her eyes. She caught me watching a few times. I saw a bit of strength return, her chin nudging upward in defiance of the churning emotions now living deep within.

That morning, Atikus and I slept while Jess kept watch.

In truth, I barely slept. It was my job to protect them. I couldn’t just sleep while Jess sat with nothing but the pain of her thoughts for company.

Hours later, I wiped away whatever sleep had made it into my eyes and mounted again. Jess was now well enough to ride, so I pressed them for greater distance. Sticky snow fell steadily throughout the day, and bitter cold seeped through our gloves and cloaks.

When evening came, weariness overcame any fear of pursuit.

“I’ll light a small fire,” I said, gathering a few pieces of broken branches that lay beneath a stand of fir trees, shielding them from the snow.

“Are you sure?” Atikus asked. “The smoke—”

“We need to dry out,” I insisted.

“And something hot to eat would be welcome,” Jess said, speaking for the first time in hours.

Atikus nodded. “I could always eat.”

I chuckled. “You don’t say?”

I built a small campfire so we could enjoy hot tea and a bit of warmth. There was no game nearby, so we contented ourselves with dried meat and fruit again.

Even the snow seemed exhausted, pausing for most of the night.

Jess didn’t speak again as we rested.

We tended the fire for an hour, almost long enough for our cloaks to dry, before she rolled out a pallet and fell into a fitful sleep.

“She has not had a peaceful rest since we left town,” Atikus whispered. He grimaced and gripped his old knees as he sat beside me.

“No, she hasn’t. It may be a long time before she enjoys peace of any kind. I have seen this many times with victims of such crimes.”

Atikus grunted. “Are there other such crimes? A King-father and a Prince-brother murdered by a Queen-mother who steals your crown?”

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