Page 43 of Mated to the Alien Warlord

"Do you have any credits?" she wanted to know.

I handed her a few of the credits Gordya gave me. Nothing on Thyre was free, especially not on a baggage train.

"That'll do. You can stay with me," Lynette offered, pocketing the credits.

"Thank you," I said, meaning it.

"We're moving," came a shout, and that was that.

Endless hours of marching followed. So many that my feet were getting numb, and I barely managed to put one in front of the other.

"You'll get used to it," Lynette encouraged, grinning widely and turning back to her friends as they animatedly chattered with each other, placing bets on how long this campaign would last and how many credits each one would earn.

"Don't take one that looks scared," an older Thyre woman added her wisdom. "The scared ones will take forever to come and take up all your time."

I nearly choked on that piece of wisdom and kept my head down so nobody would notice my flaming red face or my amusement. I supposed for them, these finer points of their trade made a lot of difference, and I didn't want to appear as a woman taking advantage of them by tagging along while looking down on them. Everybody had to see how they survived.

It wasn't a trade I would ever be employed in, but then again, I had never thought I would be marching with the camp followers either, especially not in the enemies' army, so there you go.

Their idle, and sometimes descriptive, chatter was a welcome distraction from my hurting legs and back as we walked through the night and the following day.

I thought I would break down from exhaustion and tiredness, but finally, at midday the next day, we took a break.

"You need to eat," Lynette said gruffly, handing me a bowl of undefinable stew and a piece of bread.

"Thank you," I said, honestly meaning it.

"Don't get used to it," she said, but her gesture belied her harsh words.

"Hey, Lynette, when you're done catering to the lady, you can come and serve me," a Thyre woman snickered.

Lynette waved her hand in an obscene gesture and sat down next to me. "Don't mind her, she's just jealous because she fell for a warrior who up and left her, leaving her no choice but to work with us. He left her because of her foul mouth," Lynette shouted the last part, and the other woman threw her a withering glare.

"You're not gonna be able to march much longer," Lynette observed. "Do you have any more credits?"

I did, but I was loath to part with them, thinking I would probably need them to buy food from one of the peddlers moving their little wagons up and down the rows. My fingers fiddled with the bracelet Vandor had given me, and I broke a lazulite off. With a heavy heart, I handed her the gem. "Will that do?"

Lynette's eyes widened, and I wondered if I made a mistake. "That will do. Give me a moment."

She dashed off, and I hungrily finished my food, wondering what she planned and if I would ever see her again. For a woman like her, the gem would be priceless.

She smiled broadly when she returned, making me ashamed for having thought she might have taken off. "I secured a spot on one of the wagons for us."

Relieved, I closed my eyes and sent a quick prayer of thanks to the gods. "Thank you."

After the break, we traveled more comfortably on the backside of one of the wagons, and I even fell asleep among some sacks of grain, only to awaken when Lynette poked me. "We're making camp for the night. You can sleep in my tent with me."

The next day, another woman, Syseann, joined us, and I gathered she earned enough credits during the night to afford a more comfortable way of traveling as well.

Syseann was a Thyre woman and contrary to Lynette, enjoyed traveling with the wagon train. "My father was a warrior, but he died during one of the battles, leaving my ma and me behind. This is the only life I have ever known. One day, I will settle down and marry a warrior."

Lynette rolled her eyes at me in ayeah,that's going to happenway, and I was torn between laughing and crying about the women's plight. But for the first time, I wondered what would have happened to me had my story been true, and I hadn't been born a princess and married to a warrior. Where did these women go after their fathers and husbands died? Most women on Thyre never learned a trade. They were proud to become wives, give birth, and care for their family. Only a few made their own way as seamstresses, weavers, or whatnot.

I swore right then and there that, should I make it out of this mess, I would do anything in my power to give these women another chance in life. I would care for widows and orphans and make sure nobody would ever be forced to sell their body.

Lynette's tent was hot and small and inhabited by minuscule biters that plagued camps like this. I recoiled thinking of all the many diseases they carried and spread, making me scratch my skin helplessly. This, I swore, would be another malady I would fight because I didn't think regular warriors were afforded the same cleanliness as I had become accustomed to during mine and Vandor's travels.

Screaming ripped me from my slumber early in the morning, so early, only a faint light penetrated the worn tent covering.

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