Page 370 of Of Empires and Dust

“Sorry…” Nala dipped her head and pursed her lips. The girl was so timid. Though the sights of the past few days had knocked much of that out of her. Seeing grown men empty their stomachs at the sight of rotting corpses seemed to have made her feel a little better about doing it herself.

“It’s fine.” Dann waved her away, smiling. “You were saying?”

She nodded to herself. “I was saying… I was saying that I’ve never ridden a horse before, at least, not for long journeys, and I didn’t know it hurt so much.”

“Your arse sore? Insides of your legs burning? Stomach muscles cramping?”

Nala nodded again. “You too? It seemed like I was the only one.”

“That’s because you’re the only squire with a horse,” Dann pointed out. He’d started calling Nala his squire as opposed to his attendant after Tarmon had explained the difference. Many of the tasks were the same: look after the horses, clean and polish the armour, set up and take down the tents, wash his clothes and bedding, and all other manner of tasks Dann was more than happy to do himself. But the way Tarmon had put it was that a squire came with responsibility. Nala was Dann’s to look after, to teach – not just in how to string a bow or hold a sword, but in how to live, and how to treat others, and how to carry herself. Which was a good thing, because Dann barely knew how to hold a sword himself. But something about it all appealed to him. He’d never had any siblings.

Nala had lost her parents to the Uraks, and her two brothers were a year and three years younger. The eldest of the two was squired elsewhere in the army, while the younger remained at Aravell.

“If you’d like,” he said, opening his palms out, “I can see if someone else would like to take the horse off your hands?”

“No!” The sharpness of Nala’s tone took Dann off guard. She stroked the mare’s side. “Maria is a beautiful horse. I’m really thankful, I swear it. By Varyn and by Elyara. I’ve just got to get used to it is all – the riding that is.”

Dann gave Nala a flat stare, looking from the young girl to the horse and then back again. “You named the horse Maria?”

The girl nodded. “Maria Brown.”

“Because she’s brown?”

Nala nodded again, a proud grin on her face.

“Maria the horse. Maria and Drunir… It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. We can think of other names along the way.”

“No, I like Maria.” Nala frowned and stroked Maria’s hair defensively.

“Well, not the hill I’d choose to die on, but Maria it is, I suppose.”

Nala straightened, her eyes widening. “My lord.” She pointed across the river.

Dann reflexively reached for the bow at his back, his fingers brushing the white wood, when his eyes fell on what Nala had seen. That stumpy little fucking bird. The creature had followed them all the way from the Darkwood, popping up out of nowhere like some kind of mole. How in the gods it kept up with the army on those little legs he’d never know. Another thing he’d never know is how in the gods he’d ended up in a battle of wits with a stumpy, kleptomaniacal, flightless bird. But he had, and he was losing.

Nala pulled her own bow from where it hung on Maria’s saddle. She’d barely had it a week and never remembered to unstring it. She reached for an arrow, but Dann raised a hand.

“But my lo—Dann...” She paused after saying his name, as though she’d broken some kind of rule. “I thought we wanted to kill it.”

He shook his head and lifted his chin. “I’ve chosen a path of peace, Nala.”

“Very noble of you, my lord—I mean, Commander.”

Dann stared across the bank at the bird. The little shit was staring right back at him, its beady eyes blending in with itsbrown and black feathers. He was reasonably sure the creature didn’t blink. Or at least, if it did, he’d never seen it do so.

“Emm… Commander.”

The tone in Nala’s voice told Dann all he needed to know. He let out a long sigh. “What does it have?”

As though answering his question, the bird dipped its head and pulled up a section of white cloak trimmed with purple and gold.

He turned and glared at Nala. “Does that thing have my cloak?”

“Emm… It appears so, Commander Sureheart. It must have gotten into the wagon.” She looked back at the wagon a few paces behind, which was being pulled by a stout horse while a man with a bowl-shaped hat held the reins.

“Nala.” Dann pressed his tongue against his lip. “Did you lock the chest?”

“I… I… I thought I had. I did. I remember doing it.”

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