Red Heir - Lisa Henry Page 0,14

Around them, Loth heard the others settling. Someone was already snoring, but Loth wasn’t sure who it was. Dave was the large shape nearest to them, his greenish face illuminated by the flames, and by Pie, who buzzed around him flickering like a firefly.

Lying next to Grub was like lying next to a bag of bones. He was pointy, and Loth wasn’t a fan. Loth lay on his back for a moment, then rolled onto his side and pillowed his head on his arm. He watched Grub’s profile for a moment, lit by the fire. Grub was staring up at the sky, eyes wide open.

“Close your eyes, Grub. You’re putting me off my sleep.”

Grub jolted and turned his face towards Loth briefly. “I was looking at the stars.”

“Yes, yes. Stars.” Loth yawned. “Very pretty.”

“It’s...” Grub sounded hesitant. “It’s been a while.”

“A while since what?”

“Since I saw the stars.”

Loth felt a knot in his belly. “How long?”

“I’m not sure, exactly, but maybe... five years?”

“Five...” Loth’s chest tightened. “Fuck me.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Grub said, “I would, but you’re not a horse.”

And then the little shit rolled over and fell asleep.

Loth woke to something wet dragging across his face.

“Gah!” He swatted blindly, and his hand touched scaly skin. Pie chirruped in his ear, far too cheerful for this early in the day.

Loth sat up with a scowl. His sleep had been fitful, broken up with strange dreams of sitting on a throne while a crowd chanted imposter! imposter! Followed by a delightful episode of being chased through the Swamp of Death by a pack of wolves. Random jabs from Grub’s elbows had woken him as the boy had tossed and whined in the grip of his own dreams. Loth had ended up rolling over and wrapping himself firmly around Grub’s back, hoping it meant the boy would stop flailing for five minutes. Grub had grizzled and squirmed without ever waking, but eventually he’d settled and they’d both managed a few hours’ rest.

It wasn’t enough.

The bedroll next to him was empty, although there was a trace of body heat lingering there. Loth rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, attempting to wake up properly, and peered around the camp. It appeared he was the last to wake. The smell of the Swamp of Death was tempered slightly by the smell of something cooking, possibly eggs, and Loth nodded in unconscious approval. He hauled himself out of the bedroll and wandered off to the far edge of the campsite to relieve himself and was back just in time for Scott to thrust a plate at him.

Loth was too tired for this. He peered at the contents. “What’s this?” Because it certainly wasn’t eggs.

“Royal porridge, your Lordiness.”

Loth supposed the lumpy mess might be called porridge, if porridge was having a very bad day. He prodded at it with a finger. It jiggled in a way food shouldn’t and smelled distinctly fishy. Loth hated fish. “I think I’ll pass.”

Scott’s earnest-but-stupid face fell. “But I made it to the special recipe.”

“Special recipe?”

Scott nodded. “It’s the kind of porridge from the palace. Grub said it’s what you’d expect. It was just lucky we had everything in the cart.”

Loth smelled a rat. A stinky, fishy rat. “Remind me what’s in here again? Just so I can be sure it’s proper Royal Porridge.”

“Oats, honey, cinnamon…” Scott recited, as Loth nodded along. “And of course, the dried eel,” he added, and Loth’s stomach dropped. “He said it's what royalty is raised on, your Princiness, and that you’d love every bite.”

Loth noticed Grub watching them, smirking, and it fell into place. He should have known the little shit would try and get him back for the horse jokes.

Loth sniffed the gooey, salty mixture. Oh, he was going to make the boy pay for this. “And so I shall,” he declared, and scooped up a huge bite, shoving it in his mouth before he could think better of it. He gulped convulsively in an effort to get it down his throat before his tastebuds noticed what he was doing.

He failed.

His mouth was filled with the conflicting taste of cinnamon and seawater, warm and thick and utterly gag-worthy. Normally Loth had no problem swallowing a salty treat, but the overriding flavour of eel ruined it somewhat. Still, he managed to get it down and keep it down, much to his relief.

Ada was watching him far too closely for his liking, so he was forced to make a show