Chapter Eighteen #9
Riftan watched the inn staff carefully load kegs of water and fodder onto the carts before finally turning his gaze back to Maxi.
His expression was stony, and Maxi tilted her head in confusion.
After gazing down at her irritably, Riftan breathed a low sigh and led her to the horses.
He pulled something out from one of his saddlebags.
“I got this for you yesterday. I chose the lightest one, so carry it with you even if you find it cumbersome.”
It was a dagger, the hilt of which was easily a little over a kevette in length. Riftan bent to fasten a sturdy leather belt around her waist, then secured the dagger’s sheath to the belt.
“In truth, I do not wish to give you such a ghastly thing…” he said, his lips twisting as he looked down at her with a clouded expression.
“But when they told me that you were lost in the mountains all by yourself without a single weapon, I felt like I had been plunged into darkness. I thought it best for you to at least have a knife on you.”
“Th-Thank you. I shall use it well.”
“I have no intention of making you use such a thing. I am merely giving it to you as a precaution,” he said sharply. Then, with a groan, he added, “Still, I will teach you how to use it.”
Maxi gave him a determined nod. So far, she had felt like a cyst hanging off the campaign, so the mere fact that he was giving her a weapon filled her with joy. Riftan only looked anxious at her excitement, but he just shook his head and led her back to the inn.
They ate a simple breakfast before departing the village. The vast plain beyond seemed to stretch on and on. Maxi galloped Rem, surrounded by the knights. Compared to the rugged mountain path, crossing the even dirt road patched with grass was like riding on soft clouds.
Maxi looked up at the clear blue sky, then over her shoulder at the two baggage carts rattling along the road. The pair of stallions they had purchased in the village managed to keep up with the warhorses despite having to lug fodder, water kegs, provisions, and firewood.
“Do we…need so much fodder and w-water?
“There will not be any grass once we get a little farther, and not even a puddle of water,” said Gabel, looking up at the sky, too, as he galloped next to her.
“Unless it rains, even what we have will not be enough to water all these horses, and it does not look like that is in the cards anytime soon.”
Maxi had always thought of rain as an unwelcome guest for travelers on the road, so hearing that it would be necessary worried her. Not only did rain make for an uncomfortable day of riding in soaked clothes and shoes, but it also would render their herbs and provisions unusable.
However, it occurred to Maxi that galloping across a bleak plain under the scorching sun would also be an unpleasant experience.
Beads of sweat were already forming on her nose, and Maxi gazed anxiously up at the burning sun.
It would grow even hotter by noon. Would they be able to endure such heat?
True to her fears, by midday, the sun was assaulting them with waves of sweltering heat.
The horses could not stop panting, and even the knights, who rarely showed exhaustion, were soaked with sweat.
The campaign party rode across the vast, shadeless land, finally stopping at a stream.
They had a simple lunch of bread and jerky while the horses eagerly drank.
As soon as they were sated, they set off across the endless plain once more.
Never in her wildest dreams did Maxi think she would come to miss the mountains. Not even one full day had passed. Thinking of the shade beneath the trees and the icy valley streams almost brought tears to her eyes. She heaved a sigh at the arid plain, devoid of even a single blade of grass.
By the time they decided to stop for the night, Maxi felt like a soggy spinach leaf.
Her scalp stung from the scorching heat, and her back streamed with sweat.
The choice of that night’s campground was an area dotted with large rocks.
Maxi groaned as she slid from the saddle.
Her painstaking efforts to clean herself only a day prior had all come to naught.
She mused that perhaps she should give up on sanitation altogether on this journey.
She trudged to where the junior knights were gathered and, despite Ulyseon’s vehement attempts to stop her, helped them feed the horses.
It made Maxi uncomfortable to do nothing while everyone else was bustling about.
She hand-fed the horses with fodder, then filled a pail with water to let them drink.
Riftan returned from patrol, frowning when he saw her tending to the mounts. “Stop doing that and get some rest.” Taking her arm, he dragged her to the entrance of the tent that had just been pitched. “Rest inside while the food is being prepared. You will be helping us more that way.”
The look she gave was full of discontent, but she bobbed her head in resignation.
She had grown more accustomed to life on the road, so she was not as dead tired as she used to be at the end of a long day.
Still, her stamina was nothing compared to that of the knights who trained rigorously every day.
As Riftan said, it would be more helpful to the knights if she replenished her energy whenever she could.
Riftan brought her meal to her on a tray as soon as it was ready. As the sun set, Maxi filled her empty stomach with bacon potato stew and barley bread.
Riftan ate his share beside her. “How are your aches?”
“They…are not as bad as before, a-and I have grown used to the long rides.” The truth was that her inner thighs were still sore, and her shoulders ached, but Maxi did her best to look unbothered.
Riftan studied her with narrowed eyes as if to discern whether or not she was telling the truth.
Seeming to make a decision, he rose to his feet. “Good. Then let us have a brief lesson before you sleep on how to use your weapon.”
“N-Now?”
“Are you too tired?”
Quickly shaking her head, Maxi hastily got up and followed him out of the tent.
Riftan stopped a short distance away. “Come, draw your dagger.”
Maxi awkwardly glanced about. The knights watched them with interest from the fire as they ate.
Maxi cleared her throat, then gripped the hilt of the dagger at her waist with fumbling fingers.
She wanted to unsheathe it gracefully, but yanking the blade from the tight leather scabbard proved difficult.
Now flustered, Maxi grabbed the scabbard with one hand and pulled the dagger with the other. The metal grated as it came out.
Riftan watched her with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. He pointed to the gracefully curved edge. “You have it the wrong way. That side of the blade should face down.”
Maxi hastily flipped the dagger over in her hand, but the deep crease on Riftan’s forehead did not soften. He studied her awkward posture with a grave expression.
“A dagger is meant for stabbing, not cutting. You can’t wield it like that. More like this…”
Placing his hand over hers, he tipped the blade until it was almost parallel to the ground, then took three steps away from her. “Good. Now try stabbing me with it.”
“You—you want me to do what?”
“I want you to stab me.”
“I-Isn’t that dangerous? Wh-What if you get hurt?”
Riftan’s lips curled up in amusement at her alarm. “Even if the sky were to split in half, you would never hurt me with that thing. So stop worrying and come at me.”
Maxi’s face flushed. He was right, of course.
It was improbable that she could best the greatest knight on the continent, but his overly condescending tone stoked her ire.
She glared at him, then squeezed her eyes shut and charged.
She had barely managed two steps before her foot caught on a stone, and she lurched forward.
Maxi flailed her arms, frantically trying to regain her balance, and sent the dagger flying toward the spectators. Balancing their bowls of stew in one hand, the knights hastily dodged the oncoming dagger.
Riftan deftly caught her before she fell. He sighed incredulously. “Why would you close your eyes before attacking? Especially when you’d be lucky to strike your target even with them open?”
Maxi felt her ears burn. “B-Because it was my first try. I will do better…th-the second time.”
Riftan cocked an eyebrow. Then, as if goading her to prove her determination, he released her and backed away.
It did not take long for everyone to discover that she possessed no talent for swordsmanship. She would swing her dagger wildly at Riftan, only for it to rebound off his gauntlet, then fall out of her hand.
In a show of patience, Riftan taught her the correct way to wield it and how to efficiently stab an opponent’s vital points. Despite the lesson, Maxi failed to improve no matter how many times she attempted an offensive.
Clutching her sore wrist, she nervously studied his face. She was afraid that she had only reinforced his presumption that she was a weak, inept noblewoman.
“It’s hopeless,” Hebaron muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “We’ll just have to do our best to protect her.” He had been watching from a rock, munching on jerky. Although he probably had not meant for her to hear, his deep baritone carried over.
Her shoulders sagged in dismay. It appeared that Riftan agreed with Hebaron, but he, at least, did not voice his opinion out loud. He picked her dagger off the ground and slid it back into the sheath at her waist.
“Let us stop here for today. You must be exhausted. Get some rest.”
Afraid that he would give up on teaching her, Maxi blurted out, “I-I will do better tomorrow. You will…teach me again tomorrow, won’t you?”
“We will see,” he answered vaguely, then nudged her back to the tent.
Maxi cast him a subtle glance. “What about you? A-Are you not…coming in with me?”
Riftan’s lips thinned into a contorted smile. “I shall join you later. You should go rest first.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he intended to sit up all night outside her tent again, but she meekly retreated. She was utterly spent and did not have the energy to argue with him.
In the tent, she rubbed her aching wrist and removed her boots.
She shoved the filthy footwear into a corner.
What she wanted more than anything was a bath, but she pushed the thought out of her mind.
Right now, they had to conserve water. She removed her belt and lay on the bed with her bag as a makeshift pillow.
Even though the sun had completely set, taking the heat with it, her damp clothes clung to her, making it hard to fall asleep. She repeated a fervent prayer to find a stream tomorrow until she finally drifted off.