Nena by Ann Boelter (digital book reader txt) 📕

“Sincerest gratitude,” Nena said.

“Travel safe, Nena.” The two women embraced again.

“And you, Aunt.”

True to her word, Darna sent a young slave woman to deliver the hide and a small leather pouch. After the woman left, Nena untied the thong on the pouch and peered inside. There was a short chunk of the gnarled pale gray Taymen root. Nena tugged the string, resealing the pouch, then tied it to the sash of her dress at her waist.

When there was still no sign of the scar-faced warrior with their provisions, Nena led the mare into the shade between tents. The grass grew taller there, and she allowed the mare to graze while they waited. What was taking him so long? Had he gotten sidetracked? Or been given some other order?

Nena tried to remain calm and not fidget, but it was almost as if she could feel Jarl’s army bearing down on them—the great warhorses pounding across the plains, drawing closer with every second she tarried.

Stop it. Even if they are coming, you had at least a half day’s head start and you were rested. They would have started tired, their horses tired. With the speed of the mare, you should have at least a day’s lead on them by now. And you are assuming Jarl will even waste the time to chase you. You may be already dimming in his memories as Altene replaces you in his furs.

Before she could proceed any further down that line of thought, the scar-faced warrior appeared leading a horse with two travel packs of food, extra skins of water, and a sword and spear. Thankful for the interruption of her thoughts, Nena took the second horse’s reins from him. He did not address her, but nodded and turned away.

Without wasting another second, Nena took a quick inventory of the food in the packs. If rationed properly, there would be plenty for her and Exanthia to make it back to the Teclan mountain without having to hunt. Nena then turned her attention to the weapons. They were not the highest quality, but both were smaller and well-balanced. They would suit her purpose if she had need of them. Her last inspection was of the horse. Compared to her mare, it was a disappointing creature, but its legs were clean, its wind sound, and its temperament appeared to be suitable for a child. After she made sure Exanthia was safely mounted, Nena swung aboard the mare and led them out of the village, heading due south.

Jarl’s stare burned holes in the back of the tracker’s neck as he bent over the deep tracks that crossed their path in the soft soil. The man stood up and reluctantly turned to meet Jarl’s eyes. “The tracks are hers, approximately half a day old, and she has a second horse now.”

“Half a day?” Jarl exclaimed. “How can it still be half a day? She started with little over a half a day’s lead. Though we lost ground initially, we should have shaved off all the time it took her to ride the additional distance to the village, and whatever time it took her to convey her warning.”

The tracker only looked down, waiting for Jarl to finish his tirade.

A sense of helpless rage filled Jarl so completely, it threatened to consume him. He had fully expected to cut her off here, or at least be close. His stallion reared beneath him. Even though Jarl knew the horse was only reacting to his own chaotic charged feelings, he had to fight to keep from disciplining the animal harshly. Something had to pay. He needed an outlet. He dismounted and dropped the great horse’s reins before stalking out into the sand away from the group. His hands itched to throw something, to beat something, to kill something. Barring some miracle, they would never catch her now. He had to pull himself together. He had to think. Jarl ran his hand across his forehead. Unless…

He returned to the group and remounted before making his announcement. “We ride south. The mare has already carried two riders with little rest.” Before Tryggr could point out the condition of their own animals, Jarl continued. “Even more importantly, the second horse will be a common tribe horse. From now on, she can travel only as fast and as far as that second horse can keep up.” It could be just the anchor he needed.

Nena glanced at the sun and the shadows on the grass to gauge her direction. Since they had left the lush vegetation of the coast, the terrain had been much of the same; dry grasslands merged occasionally with the sand and stone of the edge of the desert. She knew it would remain that way for the next few days. Then she would see the first of the low mountains in the distance. As she continued south, those mountains would become taller and closer together. Navigating would be easy from that point, but for now, she had to double check her bearings frequently.

After finding her tracks and realizing they had lost more ground to her, Jarl became even more merciless with the pace. Horses and men started to show the effects; horses were gaunt, men silent. As he saddled the stallion in the first light of dawn, Tryggr approached him. He pointed to Altene, struggling to lift her saddle.

“This pace is too hard for a woman, Jarl,” Tryggr said.

“And yet it is a woman we are unable to catch,” Jarl responded as he tightened his cinch.

“A normal woman.” Tryggr glowered.

“With a child,” Jarl countered abruptly and turned to face him. “Can our men not even outride a child now?”

Tryggr did not respond. Jarl looked to Altene and shook his head. “I will not slow the pace. She’s tougher than she looks.”

Tryggr scoffed and stomped away toward Altene. Jarl watched him lift the saddle and secure it to the horse for her. They exchanged a few