Page 35 of The King's Weapon

Graeson reached for one of the two bundles laying in her lap. He stuffed the napkin in his pocket and began eating. Kallie opened the bundle and found a small loaf of bread with meat and cheese in the middle. She sniffed at the loaf and bit off a chunk. Like the dried beef, the bread was sprinkled with salt. She mowed down half of the loaf. When she went for another bite, she felt resistance on her hand.

"Don't eat it all. You'll get sick," Graeson's voice was stern as he forced her hand down.

"Excuse me?" Kallie asked, mouth half-full. Manners be damned.

"You've barely eaten anything and with your irrational fear of horses, you will get sick."

Kallie flipped her braid over her shoulder, the tail hitting Graeson in the chest. “And why do you care?"

Graeson groaned in annoyance. "I do not want vomit on my horse."

Calamity tossed her head as though in agreement.

"And here I thought you cared about my well-being," Kallie grumbled as she bit a small chunk of her sandwich.

"I think you care about yourself enough for both of us." He snatched the loaf from her hand and rolled it back into the napkin.

Kallie's jaw dropped, so she did the only thing she could.She stuck her tongue out at him and turned around like a child.

He drew closer, his head hovering above her shoulder. “Keep sticking out your tongue and you might wish you hadn't." His tone was both threatening and suggestive.

"Is that a threat, Graeson?"

His tongue slid over his teeth as a strand of hair fell over his scar. "Care to find out, Princess?"

If he wasn't her enemy and her captor, Kallie might push him to see if his word was as solid as hers. But alas, they had their roles to play here, so instead, she turned around. She was not going to play this game of his.

He chuckled behind her and a flask appeared in front of her face. She hesitated but took it. Taking a swig, she swished the water tainted with the bite of liquor he'd had in it before around her mouth and washed the bread down.

After she returned the flask to him, he clasped it to the saddle and signaled the horse into a trot. Kallie took a mental note of the direction in which they headed. They must have been in the north-western point of Ardentol's territory, right at the border of Borgania.

She rolled her neck in an attempt to lessen the tension that was spreading throughout her body. As the parade of hooves clapped against the ground, she wondered how her life had turned into a constant battle against her patience. And she wasn't sure what would crack first. Her patience or her anger.

* * *

That night Fynnhad chosen to set up camp in a secluded alcove in the mountains since it was tucked away from the paths used by travelers. The small space did not permit them to pitch up their tents. Thankfully, the gods seemed to be watching out for them, for the sky was void of any storm clouds the spring nights often brought into the area. Then, by the time they made camp and ate dinner, dusk had arrived.

The five of them sat around the fire they had cooked their dinner over. Graeson had forced her to sit beside him while the rest of her group had centered themselves on the opposite side. As they sat around the fire now on its last couple of logs, the air grew stiff and the silence, deafening.

Dani tossed a twig into the fire. "Gray, why don't you tell us one of your stories?"

Kallie's interest peaked, but she refused to show it. She needed to get them talking so she could learn something useful. Perhaps a story would do just that.

When Graeson responded, his voice was laden with incredulity, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Come on. Why not?" Dani begged.

"Dani, you are ridiculous. No one wants to hear a story right now."

"I'm sure our guest would love to hear one about Pontanius. Maybe she could learn a thing or two," Fynn said with a crooked smile spread across his face.

Kallie did not know what she could learn from the outcasted god. But maybe the story would allow her to get inside of their heads, so she gave an encouraging nod.

Graeson shifted, pulling his knee closer to his chest, and Kallie could feel his annoyance rise within him. Upon first meeting the man, she believed him to be a closed book. But after being in such close proximity to him the past twenty-four hours, she quickly realized he wore his emotions like clothing: visible to everyone.

"Fine. I will tell one then." Fynn asked. He looked at Kallie. "Do you know the story of Pontanius?"

She shook her head. "We don't celebrate the god, so I know very little besides that he is Pontia's namesake."

---