Blade of Secrets (Bladesmith #1)(62)
“Let’s get moving,” Temra suggests. “Then we can strategize on the way.”
“Our only option right now is the road to Briska,” Kellyn says. “Otherwise it’s back down to Lirasu, where we know the warlord will have men stationed.”
“Then we’ll take the road to Briska,” she says.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
We help ourselves to the warlord’s horses. There’s no sense in leaving perfectly capable and trained beasts behind. Stored among their tack is plenty of food and supplies. So much that there’s no need for us to purchase anything extra. We take everything we can fit onto four beasts and then mount.
It’s only when Temra and I are squared away that I notice Petrik still on the ground, leading his mount by the reins.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“Leading the horse.”
“Why?”
He doesn’t answer.
Temra tactfully places a hand over her mouth until she can square her features. “Do you know how to ride?” she asks him.
“Certainly. I’ve read a number of books on the subject.”
“But have you ever done it?”
He doesn’t answer. Kellyn looks about to say something, but I catch his eye and firmly shake my head. Don’t you dare.
“Here,” she says, holding down her hand. “You can ride with me until you get the hang of it. We’ll attach your horse to mine, and he can follow.”
Petrik still seems unsure.
“You’ll slow us down otherwise,” she adds gently.
With that, Petrik grudgingly puts his foot in the stirrup and hoists himself up behind Temra. His riding posture is beyond terrible. He’s unbalanced and clearly terrified.
“Put your arms around me,” Temra tells him.
He does, wrapping them around her waist. His face relaxes minimally. He lets out a squeak when Temra urges the horse to walk on.
She asks, “What did you say to that guard, Petrik? He was about to stab you, but then he hesitated, right before Kellyn got there and killed him.”
Petrik thinks for a moment. “I don’t remember. I was so scared, I don’t think I knew what I was saying.”
The guard hesitated before killing him? I had my eyes closed tight during the moment.
“I’m just glad Kellyn got there in time,” Temra says.
“Me too,” I say, trying to meet Kellyn’s eyes, but they’re focused squarely on the road ahead of us.
“The plan,” Kellyn prompts, keeping us on track.
“We need to get rid of the sword,” Temra says. “That’s our job. The world isn’t safe with it in it.”
“It can’t be destroyed,” I add. “I’ve already tried. It’s indestructible.”
Petrik turns his head in my direction, from where it’s leaned against my sister’s back as he holds on for dear life. “That’s why you asked me all those questions about destroying magicked items. Ziva, if you had told me sooner about the sword, I could have helped.”
“Can you help now? Do you know what we should do?”
His hands tighten on my sister as the horse goes up an incline. “It can’t be destroyed, and Kymora can never get her hands on it. That’s what we know for sure.” He’s thinking out loud, rather than looking for any of us to respond. “We need to take the sword somewhere it’ll never be found.”
“That’s why we tried to take it to Thersa. We didn’t think the warlord could find us there.”
“That was foolish,” Kellyn says. “She’s the most powerful and influential person in the world. Her network of spies is vast. Her army is so large it beats almost all the region leaders’ combined! And you wanted to hide in the tropics?”
“Now is the time for helpful suggestions,” I say.
“The ocean,” Petrik says out of nowhere.
“What?” Temra asks.
“We get on a boat headed for the northern continent,” Petrik explains. “When we’re halfway there, we throw the sword overboard. It’ll never be found.”
After a beat of silence, I say, “It’s a good plan.”
“Then I’ll get you as far as Galvinor,” Kellyn says. “From there, you can hire a ship. When the warlord tracks you to the edge of the continent, she’ll soon realize what you’ve done. Me and mine should be safe then.”
Guilt is a powerful thing, and it consumes me as I remember that while I’ve been doing my best to keep my family safe, I’ve been putting other families at risk.
* * *
We don’t make camp until late into the night, when we’ve put a significant distance between ourselves and the capital. Petrik settles into his usual routine, about to make a fire, when Kellyn warns him against it.
“Let’s not risk a fire until morning. We don’t know how near our enemies might be.”
Petrik is clearly mournful at the lack of a hot meal after a day in the saddle. He returns his pans to their pack, walking around at a near waddle, like some of the birds back in Thersa.
“Here,” Temra says, “let me show you some stretches to help with the pain. You’ll have to be ready to ride again tomorrow morning.”