Chapter 105 Easier Things

Chapter 105 Easier Things
Lyanna

By noon, I had developed a personal dislike for mud.
Not ordinary mud. Ordinary mud stayed beneath one's feet where it belonged.
Mountain mud moved.
It slid beneath the mare's hooves, swallowed the edges of the path and collected on my boots until lifting either foot required considerably more effort than walking should have demanded.
The rain had weakened to a persistent drizzle, but everything remained soaked from the storm. Water dripped from the branches overhead and ran down the slope in shallow streams that had not existed yesterday.
Elias walked ahead with the mare's reins in one hand.
He had put me in the saddle after the first steep climb and ignored my suggestion that I could walk.
I had not argued very hard.
The mare slipped.
My stomach dropped.
Elias caught the bridle and steadied her before she could stumble farther.
“Easy.”
He ran a hand down her neck, waited until she settled, then looked up at me.
“All right?”
I nodded.
His gaze stayed on me.
I signed, Yes.
Only then did he continue.
We had covered perhaps another hundred paces when the mare's hoof sank almost to the fetlock.
Elias stopped again.
He stared at the path ahead.
I watched his shoulders lower.
“That is unfortunate.”
I looked past him.
The trail had become a long brown stretch of churned earth between the trees.
I signed, Your excellent northern route.
He turned.
“Your northern route.”
My brows rose.
“You chose it.”
From your terrible options.
“They were excellent options.”
I pointed at the mud.
Elias glanced down.
“That is weather.”
I signed, You blame everything on weather.
“Most problems in mountains are either weather or poor decisions.”
I waited.
His eyes narrowed.
“Do not.”
I smiled.
He faced forward again.
The mare made another unhappy sound.
“At least someone respects me.”
I patted her neck.
Elias looked back.
I signed, She was complaining about you.
“You cannot know that.”
I gave him a long look.
He muttered something and started walking.
I smiled to myself.
The path improved once we entered thicker forest. Pine needles covered some of the mud, and the trees broke the drizzle enough that I could push my hood back.
For the first time since morning, we began making reasonable progress.
Elias found a shallow stream shortly after midday and stopped beside it.
“We rest here.”
I slid one leg carefully toward the ground.
He was beside me before I could attempt the rest.
His hands settled at my waist.
I braced mine on his shoulders, and he lifted me down.
My feet touched the ground.
I remained against him for a moment while the stiffness in my hips decided whether it intended to cooperate.
Elias waited.
“All right?”
I nodded.
“Back?”
I considered it.
“Sore.”
The word came softly and scraped near the end.
He nodded toward a fallen log. “Sit.”
I did.
Apparently, there were advantages to honesty. One of them was that Elias became significantly less irritating when I answered the first time.
He unpacked bread, dried fruit and cheese.
I watched suspiciously.
“No meat,” he said.
I looked at him.
“I am capable of learning.”
I signed, Slowly.
He handed me the cheese.
I ate while he filled the water flasks.
The stream was narrow but fast from the rain. Elias crouched on a flat stone near the bank, reaching into the current.
I noticed the problem before he did.
The stone shifted.
His boot slid.
Elias caught himself with one hand against the bank, but not before his other foot went directly into the water.
I covered my mouth.
He became very still.
Water reached halfway up his boot.
I failed.
A laugh escaped me.
It was rough and breathy, hardly louder than the stream, but Elias looked over immediately.
I pressed my lips together.
He stared at me from his undignified position.
I looked away.
“Go ahead.”
My shoulders shook.
“Apparently my suffering is entertaining.”
I signed, Very.
He pulled his foot free with an unpleasant sucking sound.
That made it worse.
Elias looked down at his soaked boot.
I laughed again.
This one hurt my throat enough that I coughed afterward.
His amusement vanished.
He brought me the water.
I accepted it.
“I am glad this has been worthwhile.”
I drank.
When I lowered the flask, he was removing his boot and pouring water from it.
I signed, Elegant.
“Yes, thank you.”
Graceful.
“I understand.”
Very commanding.
Elias pointed the wet boot at me.
“Careful.”
I smiled into the flask.
We rested until the mare had drunk and Elias's sock had gone from soaked to merely miserable. Then we continued north.
The forest gradually changed as the afternoon passed. The pines grew farther apart, giving way to birch and low shrubs heavy with rain.
Elias had started telling me which stretches of ground to avoid.
“Left.”
I guided the mare left.
“Not that far.”
I corrected.
“A little right.”
I looked down at him.
He pointed ahead. “There's a washout.”
I moved right.
“More.”
I stopped the mare.
Elias stopped too.
I stared at him.
“What?”
I signed, Do you intend to steer me all afternoon?
“I intend to keep the horse upright.”
She has eyes.
“She also walked directly into mud this morning.”
I stroked the mare's neck.
“She cannot defend herself from slander.”
My head snapped toward him.
Elias kept walking.
I narrowed my eyes.
Something was wrong.
A few minutes later, he said, “Do Aelorians actually call those birch?”
I looked toward the trees.
I signed, Yes.
“Interesting.”
There was nothing interesting about it.
We walked farther.
“What was the name of that plant yesterday?”
I signed, White feverwort.
“I thought so.”
I stared at the back of his head.
He did not turn.
Suspicion settled in.
A bird called somewhere overhead.
Elias glanced up.
“What do you call those?”
I looked at the bird.
Then at him.
I signed, Bird.
His mouth twitched.
He had done it three times now.
I watched him.
Elias continued as though nothing had happened.
Eventually he pointed toward a patch of red berries beside the path.
“Those edible?”
I nodded.
“What are they?”
I signed the answer.
He frowned.
“What?”
I repeated it.
“I don't know that sign.”
He did.
He absolutely did.
I had used it at least twice before.
Elias looked at me with an expression of carefully manufactured confusion.
I stared back.
He waited.
I signed it again.
His brows drew together.
The bastard.
I leaned slightly toward him.
“You know.”
My voice came out soft and rough.
Elias's expression became entirely too satisfied.
I stared at him.
He looked forward.
“I wasn't certain.”
I signed, Liar.
“Strong accusation.”
You knew the sign.
“I may have forgotten.”
I watched him for several steps.
Then understanding became certainty.
I touched his shoulder.
He looked up.
My hands moved slowly.
You wanted me to say it.
His face gave him away.
Only slightly.
It was enough.
I stared.
“No.”
My brows rose.
“I asked a question.”
I continued staring.
“You chose to answer aloud.”
I pointed accusingly at him.
His mouth twitched.
I signed, Why?
That stopped him.
For a moment, I thought he might avoid the question.
Then he looked at me.
“I like hearing you.”
My hand lowered.
Elias turned forward and continued walking as though he had said nothing unusual.
Heat crept into my face.
I looked determinedly toward the trees.
The mare's ears flicked backward.
I patted her neck.
Elias did not say anything else.
That was worse.
I lasted perhaps two minutes.
Then I said, “Elias.”
He looked back far too quickly.
I knew it.
“You are annoying.”
My voice barely carried.
His smile appeared.
Not the small almost-smiles of the last few days.
A proper one.
“Yes.”
I narrowed my eyes.
He turned away again.
I should have stopped there.
Instead, after another few paces, I said, “And your tea is terrible.”
He laughed.
The sound carried between the wet trees.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
After that, he did not have to trick me.
I still spoke sparingly because my throat would not allow much more, but the occasional word slipped into the spaces between our signs.
When Elias chose the wrong side of a flooded patch, I said, “Excellent.”
When a branch dumped collected rainwater down the back of his cloak, I managed, “Weather?”
He looked at me with such offence that I nearly laughed myself into coughing again.
When I did cough, he handed me the flask without comment.
I drank and returned to my hands.
Nothing changed because I stopped speaking.
He answered the same way he always had.
By late afternoon, the rain finally ended.
The clouds thinned enough for pale sunlight to reach through the trees. Elias stopped at the top of a gradual rise and looked west.
I followed his gaze.
The mountains stretched behind us beneath retreating clouds, their slopes dark with rain. Far below, the road had vanished completely.
For once, there were no soldiers visible.
No notices.
No smoke that made Elias stop and calculate distances.
Only wet forest and the faint gold of sunlight breaking across the valley.
Elias looked up at me.
“Tired?”
I nodded.
“Another hour?”
I considered my back, my legs and the weight of the child beneath my ribs.
Then I nodded again.
He accepted that.
We continued.
The mare had barely taken three steps when Elias's wet boot made an ugly squelching sound.
I looked down.
He looked up.
Neither of us spoke.
I smiled.
“Not one word.”
I signed, Elegant.
He sighed and kept walking.
This time, my laughter followed us down the trail.