Brian Kittrell - The Immortals of Myrdwyer

Laedron nodded. “I wouldn’t normally want to stop, but we could benefit from fresh water near camp.”

“I think we should keep going for a while.” Marac turned to Laedron. “We’d be safer inside the woods. Better concealment and more cover. Out here, we’re in the open. Sitting ducks.”

“What if we make camp just behind us?” Laedron pointed at a rise above the water. “Less cover than the thickets, but faster access to the river if we need water.”

Narrowing his eyes, Marac studied the ridge. “Right. The height advantage will make up for the cover if we’re ambushed. Easier to defend the high ground.”

“Good.” Laedron pulled on his reins, steering his horse toward the bluff. “I hope the air runs cooler up there, too.”

* * *

Leaning against a pine, Laedron peered into the distance and watched the sun set behind the trees. He heard the rustling of leaves over the chirping of crickets and glanced over his shoulder to see Valyrie coming up behind him.

“I never thought you’d be one for sunsets,” she said, folding her arms.

It’s good to hear her voice again in a kind way, a tone I thought was lost to me. “No?”

She shook her head.

“Even sorcerers should appreciate the true beauty of the world. Spellcraft is only one facet of life, and to spend your entire life pursuing it-and nothing else-would be a waste.”

“Sounds as if you have made your choice.”

“Choice?”

She came alongside him. “To which world you will belong. Between the magical and the plain, it seems you would rather be part of the magical.”

“I have little choice now.” He turned to her. “I must complete the journey I began with Ismerelda.”

“Must you?”

He nodded. “If I don’t, I’m merely a curiosity, a strange and out-of-place vagabond. No, I cannot turn back now. Neither can you.”

Her brow wrinkled, but she said nothing.

“You’ve started along the path, also. Opened a door not easily closed.” He glanced at the wand sheathed at her hip. “Once you’ve felt the touch of magic, you’ll never be quite the same.” His heart filled with desire, hungry for her embrace.

She took a step back and gestured toward the camp. “They sent me to fetch you.” And withdrawn, once more, out of reach again. Damn my fool mouth. I should never have said anything.

Returning to the camp, Laedron grinned. Marac and Brice had staked the tents in a circle around a proper campfire, and they had unpacked the horses. Incredibly efficient , Laedron thought. He’d only been gone for an hour at most. “Where’d you learn to prepare a camp?”

Marac pulled taut the strap on his pack, then buckled it. “Do you think Meklan Draive would have cut us loose without a handle on survival?”

“No, probably not, but I never expected anything like this.”

“The knights taught us much of combat, but we picked up a few other things.” Marac dragged a fallen log near the fire and sat on it. “How do you take your salted beef?”

Laedron’s stomach rumbled. “How salted?”

“I was assured that they smoked it first, so they would have gone lighter with the salt.”

“Pink, then.”

“You?” Marac asked Valyrie.

“The same.”

Brice poked the fire with a stick. “Should be hot enough now.”

“May want to add to the pile.” Laedron reached for a thick limb.

“No, we have to keep it low.” Marac waved his hand. “The bigger the fire, the more likely we are to be noticed up here.”

“Are we not alone?” Laedron asked.

“I’d rather not find out. We’d be best to take every precaution.” Marac retrieved some metal rods from his pack and poked a few forked sticks into the ground at the fire’s perimeter. Then, he carefully placed the rods across the open flame, creating a makeshift grate.

Laedron said, “Never seen anything like that before.”

“I thought about it on the ship from Azura.” He grinned. “Better than trying to cook on the end of a stick.”

Brice laughed. “I bet you’ll get less of a wood flavor, too.”

“I can’t wait,” Marac said, plopping the beefsteaks over the fire, then he gleefully rubbed his hands together. “It’ll be a welcome change from a handful of nuts here and there.”

Laedron leaned over and inspected the glowing embers. “How long do you think it will take?”

Marac stretched out his legs, crossed them, and leaned back on his log. “Hard to say. When it’s done, it’s done.”

“I should have time to visit the creek, yes?” Laedron asked, the itching inside his shirt insatiable.

Marac shook his head. “No one should go off alone.”

“I thought you weren’t worried. ‘Fret not,’ didn’t you say?”

“That was before we got into the forest proper.” Marac tossed a twig into the fire pit. “Now’s the time to be careful.”

“I’ll go with him,” Brice said. “I’d like to get a drink.”

After searching through a nearby backpack, Marac tossed him a metal canteen. “Drink from that one. When you’re done, fill it up and bring it back. It’ll need to be boiled.”

Laedron led the way down the hill. At the stream’s edge, he could barely see a random flicker from the campfire, and he felt safer knowing that a bandit would have to come close to their shelters to suspect their presence. He removed his shirt and used handfuls of water to wash away the sweat and dirt from his skin.

Brice dipped his towel into the water, then carefully balled it up. Noticing Laedron watching him, he said, “For the morning. I prefer to bathe before the day begins.”

“Good idea.” He dunked his shirt in the water, saving it for later.

The smell of sizzling steak hit him like a wall when he reached the top of the hill, a kind replacement for the musty scent of pine needles and earth. Coming between two of the tents, he heard a metal scraping sound. “It’s just us,” he warned.

Marac took his hand off the hilt of his sword. “Sorry. Just a bit on edge.” He sat on the log.

Laedron joined him at the fire. “I hope you won’t be too high strung to sleep.”

“I thought you might like the honor.” Marac nudged Laedron with his elbow, glancing back and forth between Laedron and Valyrie. “You’ve had nothing to keep you up all night of late.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Valyrie shot up from her seat and headed toward one of the tents. “Despicable.”

“I wish you hadn’t said that.” Laedron tossed a pebble into the fire.

Marac exchanged a concerned look with Brice, then gazed at Laedron again. “Why not? I was just having a bit of harmless fun, Lae.”

Laedron watched Valyrie disappear into the tent. “When we reach the end of our journey, I fear that she may not return home with us.”

“If that’s the case, it wasn’t meant to be,” Brice said, lighting a twig by the fire.

“Oh, and you’re some kind of expert in the matter, Thimble?” Marac rapidly shook his head. “I’ve heard it all now.”

“Just watch what you say. Please, do it for me.” Laedron, not waiting for a response, went to his bedding and tried to get comfortable.

“Looks like I’m first up on watch,” Marac said.

Like the others, Laedron took his turn on watch, then slept until the morning rays woke him. He joined Marac by the fire and took some jerky when it was offered. “Should we wake up Brice?”

“Not just now.” Marac turned to look at Brice. “He was the last to sleep, and we can do the packing while he rests.”

Laedron nodded, and he glanced at Valyrie as she emerged from the tent. “Sleep well?”