Even when it began moving, the animal did so grudgingly. They weren’t even out of camp before the lead horses and their riders passed her.
Shea kept her face stubbornly pointed forward, not acknowledging the amused grins passing over her head as the riders passed on either side of her.
By the time the party crested its first hill, Shea and her stubborn mount were firmly at the back with only the rear guard behind her, and that only because they absolutely refused to pass her.
Being utterly unable to inspire the beast to go any faster, Shea sat back to enjoy the ride. If she ignored the three men behind her and tuned out the distant sounds of the group in front of her, she could almost pretend she was on a solo journey in the Highlands with the sun on her face, the wind in her hair and hundreds of miles of empty expanse between her and the nearest person.
The path curved and the last two riders in the party came briefly into view, ending Shea’s fantasy.
The pony kept a steady, short legged trot, completely different from the smooth gaits of the larger horses. It was by no means a comfortable ride, sending the teeth rattling in her head.
Shea caught up with the main group between one twist of the path and the next, surprised to find they had taken a break so soon in the trip.
A man intercepted her as she began to dismount. “Better to just stay seated, girl. You took too long catching up. We’re taking off directly.”
“I see.” Shea settled back into place, looking at the commotion around her. Sure enough, the men were heading for their mounts.
Looked like she wasn’t getting any rest during this stop, or any stop, given how slow this infernal creature was.
Sure enough, the pattern repeated with Shea and her mount falling behind almost immediately after setting off. When she caught up with them a few hours later, she didn’t even pause before continuing. She’d had a lot of time to think, riding along by herself and had worked out what was happening.
The time between breaks wasn’t long enough for an elite unit. No, they were waiting for her to fall behind so they could stop and then set off as soon as she caught up, leaving her no time to rest or eat. They’d probably picked the pony just for this reason. Their own personal brand of hazing.
Inwardly, Shea smiled. She wondered if this was Fallon’s plan or his men’s. In the end, it didn’t really matter. They miscalculated if they hoped to make her miserable. She enjoyed riding alone as it spared her from having to make conversation with Fallon or his men, though she loathed being the one dragging everyone down.
“Where are you going?” a man questioned as she rode past.
“Thought I’d get a head start. I’m sure you’ll catch up.”
He snorted and let her pass without a challenge.
Shea felt a tingling between her shoulder blades but resisted the urge to turn, knowing who it was drilling a hole in her back.
A half hour hadn’t even passed before Fallon rode past with his men hard on his heels. They flanked her briefly before she was once again left alone with her thoughts.
That set the tone for the rest of the day, though Fallon no longer let her pass them, instead having them mounted and moving out as soon as she came into sight.
She was exhausted that evening when she finally lifted her leg over the pommel and slid to the ground. Even that wasn’t to be the end, as she had to feed, water and then hobble her horse with the others.
Finished settling the beast for the night, she gave its neck an affectionate pat. They’d come to an understanding of sorts during the course of the day. She wouldn’t try to make it go any faster than a moderate trot, and the pony wouldn’t come to a complete stop and refuse to take another step. Not quite the relationship Shea usually had with her mounts, but she’d take it.
Sleeping pallets littered the small campsite. As was usual for fast journeys such as theirs, the Trateri hadn’t set up a shelter that would need to be torn down in case of a quick exit.
Fallon’s bags sat abandoned near the hobbled horses. Shea picked up on the unspoken order, shouldering them and heading for a spot near the middle of the proceedings, intending to set his pallet up where he’d be surrounded by his men.
“Fallon prefers to be on the edge,” a man spoke over her shoulder as she unrolled his blankets.
He pointed in the direction he meant. Shea gave him a quick nod and gathered both packs and the half unrolled blankets, before making her way to a little spot just far enough from the fire that its light wouldn’t bother him as he slept. She chose a site at the base of a tree with bark the color of ash and branches that bent gracefully under the weight of its leaves. After placing his pack at the head of the nest she created, she grabbed hers and stood.
Now, where should she set up hers?
Immediately, she discarded anywhere inside the circle of Trateri. Like Fallon, Shea preferred to be on the edge of things.
She found her ideal sleeping area on the opposite side of the campsite from Fallon’s. No one had bedded down within ten feet of her, leaving a nice little bubble of privacy. Just the way she liked it.
“You might as well pick those up and carry them back to where you set me up,” Fallon said from behind her.
Shea paused in the act of rolling out her blankets. “I prefer this spot,” she told him politely, determined not to let any action of his fluster her.
“And I prefer you next to me.”
There were several responses she could make to that statement. None of them polite.
“We don’t always get what we want,” she said.
She was tired. Muscles she hadn’t been aware of in years ached. Her lower back was one giant throb, and her ass hurt something dreadful. All she wanted to do was roll into her blankets and sleep.
“Indeed. You don’t.”
Well, she should have seen that coming.
“I’m not moving,” she told him flatly. “You have nearly a hundred men. I doubt I’ll be able to sneak off without at least one of them noticing, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
It was not quite the diplomatic, non-confrontational reply she had composed in her head, but it had been a long day and a headache was beginning to nag at the base of her neck.
“I’m done with this conversation.”
That was good. She was too.
Shea turned back to what she was doing.
Suddenly, she was up in the air, blankets and all, before finding herself lying belly down over Fallon’s shoulder. She let out a sound disturbingly close to a squawk.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, struggling to right herself.
There was a sharp crack and then a stinging in her ass cheeks. A series of catcalls and whistles sent Shea’s face up in flames.
“I told you I was done with the conversation.”
“I cannot believe you just did that,” she muttered at his back.
“You sleep next to me.”
He set her on her feet next to his sleeping pallet and walked away, his message clear. If she persisted in being stubborn and tried to set up somewhere else, he would escort her right back here, even if he had to manhandle her to do it.
She threw her stuff down, glaring at his retreating back.
Stupid, stubborn man.
Even if an aide normally stuck close to his master, Shea wasn’t doing that. Especially since both of them knew it was a bullshit title, made to keep her in his vicinity. He no more needed an aide than she needed an extra head. He hadn’t even had her perform any of an aide’s normal tasks.