Page 83 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)
I glanced at him. “Then how would I fight?”
“I’ll defend you.”
“As your personal guard, you shouldn’t have to,” I corrected and cantered ahead. The real annoyance hit when I heard him utter a sharp whistle that led to Droga shadowing me.
We saw nothing that day unless trees and more trees counted. We took a north-westerly path, away from known trails through rough forest. We couldn’t go too fast, given the horses couldn’t see pitfalls hidden under leaves and other detritus.
That night, we camped in the woods. Woods unlike anything I’d ever seen. I craned to see the tops, the nearest branches too high for me to even jump and grab.
Jrijori joined me in my slack-jawed admiration. “The mighty red trees of the west. It is said they are hundreds of years old and some tower over a hundred feet high.”
“How do they get so big?”
“No idea.” He shrugged. “Everything is bigger in the west.”
Was that why the rumors painted it as such a primitive place? All the stories I’d heard had the Weztrogians living as savages in a barren, freezing wasteland. What I’d seen thus far belied that description. Especially the people. I’d yet to see one person drinking from a skull.
We slept in turns, a pair on watch, rotating every few hours. It wasn’t until morning I realized no one made me take a turn. Even my father took one.
I shook my finger at Konstantin. “I should have been woken for a turn on watch.”
“I told them not to.”
Pride stiffened my tone. “I’m not weak. I will do my fair share.”
He loomed over me. “You’re still recovering.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stubborn,” he growled and stalked off. But that night he gave me first watch, which then let me sleep uninterrupted. It was hard to hate him for it.
The next day proved to be more of the same: woods, woods, and a wild boar that made a yummy campfire dinner. Three fires actually, created by pits dug into the earth and filled with the branches and leaves on the ground. Never too big of a flame was apparently a rule amongst the Weztrogians. Into those pits—with their smoldering coals—they dropped the meat wrapped in leaves. It proved to be delicious, and once I’d filled my belly, I slept happily by the fire.
I was assigned last watch before dawn. I served it with Hoolia, who yodeled like a rooster at dawn to wake the rest of the horde.
The day involved more riding, more forest. Up hills. Down hills. No signs of people or life. We didn’t follow a visible path, and I could only assume Konstantin led us by memory in a weaving pattern north.
The next night we spent in a cave. It was big, with a few pockets dug into the rock. I claimed one, needing to get away.
Some people thrived on constant company. Me, every so often I needed quiet alone time. I nodded off and woke in my little grotto to realize I’d probably missed dinner. I also had to urinate something fierce.
Armed with my daggers and the sheath for my sword in hand, I emerged from my niche to find the cave quiet. The faint glow of the banked fire letting me see a few humps. People who’d chosen to sleep in the main area.
Quietly, I slipped past them to the cave opening. To my surprise, no one sat watch. Odd. Maybe they’d gone to check on something.
I skewed to the side of the ledge, the low sloped hill not hard to climb, just uneven in the dark. I set down my sword, squatted, and peed.
Wouldn’t you know, with my pants down, I’d get stung on the buttock? I shook and yanked my pants up. The left cheek throbbed.
Hopefully, just a sting and not some eggs. I knew a girl who had a lump that grew until it burst open and spewed critters.
I took a step and wavered on my feet. Dizzy. Off balance. My mouth dry. My muscles turning into mush.
Uh-oh.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
I woke up inside a nightmare.I hung upside down, my body, from the neck down, wrapped in what might be spider silk. A lot of it. From what could only be a huge arachnid.