Rise of the Dragonriders by A. J. Walker

Author:A. J. Walker [Walker, A. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Publisher: A J Walker Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 87

Marching to War

Kirsten reached down and grabbed her pack. She groaned under the weight of the crystals and armor that had been added since leaving Brookside. Shifting uncomfortably, she attempted to adjust the shoulder straps.

“Why don’t you put some of that stuff on the carts like everyone else?” Bo asked.

Kirsten looked at him, his forehead creased with concern for her.

“I thought you would’ve known this about her by now,” Thomas said, approaching them with a lightly packed satchel slung over his shoulder.

Kirsten scowled at her brother’s bright expression, thinking, What’s he so happy about? We’re walking into certain doom and he’s always been fearful. Aloud, she said, “Thanks, Bo, but I would rather have my gear at the ready if I need it. Besides, I’m not going to let these crystals out of my sight.”

“You don’t have to let the crystals go, just that armor. We didn’t need it before,” Bo said.

Kirsten raised her eyebrows at him, “Seriously? If I would’ve been wearing armor that goblin wouldn’t have been able to bite half my shoulder off.” She saw him wince as she walked toward the long line of soldiers heading out from camp.

Behind her now, she heard Thomas grunt, “Ouch, Bo. Better luck next time.”

Bo’s armor rattled and bounced on his pack as he jogged to catch up with her. Kirsten didn’t look at him when he came alongside. After a few seconds he said, “Just let me take some of your armor.”

Kirsten clenched her jaw, “Bo, really, I can carry it. It’s not that bad. You’re carrying your armor, too.”

“I’m not carrying a week’s worth of bread and jerky and I don’t have magic rocks weighing me down,” he said.

“He’s got a point there,” Thomas said, easily catching them.

“You’re making some poor donkey cart all your food, water and armor? I thought we were raised to take care of ourselves,” Kirsten replied sharply.

“I am taking care of myself, by preserving my strength. And I do have enough food and water with me here,” he held up the leather satchel and continued, “for the day, until we make camp at least.”

“Where did you get that anyway?” Bo asked.

“One of the Southland natives,” Thomas said, feeling at the simply designed leather bag.

“So that’s where you were last night,” Kirsten said accusingly.

Thomas frowned, “What’s the big deal, we could be dead by sundown. At least I know when to say yes when I’m offered help. This bag is perfect for a day’s outing.” Thomas then stepped out ahead of them, adding over his shoulder, “Don’t complain tonight when your muscles are stiff as a board and the rest of us are more limber than a Lumbapi at twilight.”

Kirsten rolled her eyes and watched Thomas speed up and disappear into the long line of Westlanders marching east. “What does that even mean? Limber as a Lumbapi at twilight?” she asked, glancing at Bo.

He shrugged in silence, looking down at the trampled grass beneath their feet.

Aw, crud, Kirsten thought. My stubbornness just put him in a funk.

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