The general looked more than a little worse for wear, his swollen face blotched with red and purple, but he at least rode on the back of a horse.
Brow furrowing, Aida kept her gaze on the dusty earth. Well into the night, Er’it had spoken soft words to her, things she thought she understood the meaning of. Yet as the bright light of morning seeped into the tent, his behavior changed. He no longer sought reasons to touch her, to view the bite at her shoulder. Acting as if he wanted nothing to do with her again, he kept his distance. A single night of pleasure and he forgot every moment of kindness.
Sniffing though there were no tears to be found, Aida ducked her head and clambered into the back of the cart before anyone could move to aid her. The task was far easier in the loose breeches and tunic Er’it had flung in her direction after he rose from their makeshift bed. Curling her knees tight to her chest, she huddled amid the various trunks and cases and tried to become lost in the clutter.
Feeling filthy in both body and heart, she watched through lowered lashes as the rest of the camp prepared to leave. Most of the tents rendered unusable from her display of power, there was little to pack. The surge of magic also drove away several horses, leaving many of the warriors to walk alongside the two carts that now held their meager possessions and people. It was mere chance that had the beasts unburdened to leave the carts intact and with them still.
Aida shook her hair out to fall around her face, hiding from the blatant stares. It did not take a brilliant person to know they were angry with her, though they took care not to be too conspicuous in Er’it’s presence… except for the female mage, Endi. Aida had disliked her from the beginning, and it seemed the feeling became mutual. She did not care for the way Endi found reasons to be near Er’it, the way the mage kept after him and even touched Kal. Nor did Aida like the haughty looks Endi threw in her direction, her full lips pulled into a nasty sneer.
“Calm, child,” Tor’en said from the driving bench. Dipping his chin, he made a faint nod at Aida’s hands.
Blue fire traced her hands, streamers of it sliding over her skin in broad strokes. Gasping, she shook out her arms before wedging them under her backside. Turning her horrified gaze to her knees once more, she feared what she would see on Tor’en’s face.
“He has as much interest in her as he does that bull ox, Lir.”
The gruff amusement in Tor’en’s words brought a flush to Aida’s cheeks. She had no claim on Er’it, and to become jealous of the other woman’s attention was beyond ridiculous, to be so obvious with her emotions even more so.
“I do not know what happened in those woods, child, but whatever it was… Well, that is conversation for another day.” Tor’en arranged his lanky frame on the bench, his long legs stretching out over the top of the front boards. “Worry not about his attentions, though. His eyes only have one prize in mind, and it is not Endi.”
Her unconscious scoff had Tor’en peering over his shoulder with a shaggy brow rising. Another wave of heat spread over Aida’s face as she crowded closer against the heavy trunks at her side.
“You have issue with that?”
“I have no choice in the matter,” Aida snapped, hating the limpid sympathy in his warm brown eyes.
“I dare say that is the most idiotic thing I have heard recently. Aside from every other word from the boy, mind you.”
Aida’s brows scrunched together, looking to Zaec as he climbed onto the driving bench. Lips parting, she tried to find the words to chastise the old mage for such cruelty. Zaec seemed a decent young man, holding no ill will toward Aida for all the havoc she’d wrought.
“Not him,” Tor’en said, his guffaw ringing through the morning air as he slapped Zaec on the back with good humor. “This one has a good head on his shoulders. Knows to lose touch with the earth is to cut your soul from the Hat’or.”
Zaec grunted at the impact, but his cheery smile gave no hint of anything but geniality. Chuckling as he took up the reins, Zaec spoke from the side of his mouth so as not to be overheard by