The Forgotten Kingdom (Skyelorn Chronicles #2)

The Jolly Vagabond

The sun was starting to peek above the forested horizon line, and Marithyda could no longer feel her toes. She and Sabin had walked all through the night, spurred on by the terrible memory of burning flesh, and she had never been colder in her life. Dressed as she was in rags, she was surprised her limbs hadn't succumbed to frostbite by now.

          Midway through the night, they had managed to stop for a few moments to consume the contents in the supply crates; water had never tasted so good. But right after, Sabin wanted to keep walking, to put as much distance between them and the castle as possible.

          "Do you think we can rest now?" Marithyda finally asked. Her dry throat burned, but the air started to warm ever-so-slightly as night turned to day.

          "We shouldn't," Sabin said, wending around a particularly large tree. "We won't be safe until we reach the tavern, and even then we should be on our guard."

          Marithyda knew he was right, but she was so tired of being on her guard. It felt like they had already walked halfway across the entire kingdom. She needed real sleep.

          "What was the tavern called, anyway? I think I forgot."

          "The Jolly Vagabond," Sabin recited.

          "Sounds fun."

          Marithyda and Sabin crested a hill and were able to see farther ahead. She sucked in a breath. Right when the tree line of the Pathosian forest ended, the city began. It was already bustling with merchants and—

          "Guards," Marithyda spat. She cursed again under her breath. King Harlan wasn't playing around.

          "Got any ideas, Skyelorn?" Sabin said, shaking out his hands. Her mouth twisted into a small grin. She'd been hiding from royal guards her entire life.

          "Watch and learn, Carthage."

          Then she left the cover of the forest, ran into the middle of the main road, and collapsed.

          "What the hell are you doing?" Sabin exclaimed, following her hesitantly out of the forest.

          "Stop somebody in a wagon," she said, willing her body to remain still. "You look like a beggar. Act like it."

          "I ... Oh, my Seas." Sabin raked a hand over his dirt-smeared face. "I'm gonna get back at you for this, Skyelorn."

          "I'm looking forward to it."

          Marithyda had to keep herself from laughing as Sabin waved his arms and screamed from the side of the road: "Hey! Stop, please! My wife got hurt, please!" She felt rushes of air as people on horseback whizzed past, paying them no heed. But then, beneath her, she felt the ground vibrate with the slowing wheels of a cart.

          "Need help?" It was a woman's kind voice.

          Perfect.

***

Marithyda tried on the woman's riding cloak. It fit a little loose, but as far as disguises went, it sufficed. It didn't look like something she would ever choose to wear. She threw the hood up to cover her face and turned to monitor Sabin's progress.

          The woman must have been a pottery merchant, because the back of her wagon had been loaded with clay bowls, vases, and toys. Sabin struggled with the cloth that they had been bundled in, and once again Marithyda fought not to laugh at him. He had managed to tie it across his chest and around his broad shoulders like a toga, and the end of the fabric trailed behind him on the ground.