The Galloway Road by Catherine Adams

Author:Catherine Adams [Adams, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA, Romance, Fantasy
Publisher: Less Than Three Press, LLC
Published: 2016-03-15T16:00:00+00:00

Wednesday 4th March

When I awoke, Brett was the only other person awake. Mal was curled in his bedroll, cased lute hugged in his arms, and Don was at his back, one customary hand on his friend's shoulder. Brett poked at the dying embers of the fire with a stick, trying to get them restarted.

"I'll look for them," he said. "I was thinking it over, I've been up for the watch. After I've got you and them to Lord Galloway's safe, I'm going to search for them."

I took a moment, in my sleep-addled state, to work out what he was on about.

"My family," he clarified. "They've got to be somewhere in Eastriding. If they're not, I'll come back down to Galloway and look there. And after that I'll go over to Aguon." He broke into a grin. "I can pay my respects to your father that way."

I was lost for words. I'd had no idea he remembered the drunken conversation we shared the other night. I just twisted the rings on my fingers and he gave me a rough nod. We were on our way shortly after that.

*~*~*

Today was more exhausting than any single other day on our journey. Brett rode both the ponies and us hard. He refused to stop for lunch, handing out cold meat and bread and making us eat in the saddle. Mal grumbled and Don groaned, longing to shake off the saddle-soreness. To let them take a walk around and smoke or play their instruments and unwind would have been a mercy to us all. At the very least we would have been saved from their complaining. The weather began to pick up in the afternoon. Heavy grey skies cleared every now and again to bathe us in a pathetic substitute for sunshine, but it was better than being wet. The wind was low, brisk when blowing into our faces, though it was still a pleasant day. There hadn't been any gibbets for at least ten miles, but Brett was still as stubborn as mountains.

"We need to get there now," he said. "We've wasted enough time on this road, and I'm losing my stomach for being around the dead an' dying. Sooner we get to Galloway's, the better."

"You getting spooked out about the Barrow Kings?" Don laughed. "Getting into their land now if I'm right about where we are."

"Where are we?" I looked between the musicians and Brett, who had a face on like he'd just smelled sour milk.

"Between Eastriding and Galloway. Am I right, Brett?" Don said. "The Corridor?"

"We don't call it that here," Brett said. "We don't give this place a name."

He made a quick hand gesture, a rushed ward against evil and yanked on his pony's bridle.

"The faster we leave this place, the better," he said. "We aren't stopping on the road tonight, so we ride till we hit Galloway."

*~*~*

I realised once I stopped this evening marks my first week on the road. It felt a lot longer than that. We were seven days away from the coast and had left Eastriding as the sun set.

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