Secuban nods slowly. “I understand. Such are your teachings. But, my lord, if you will not stay, allow me to send my army with you to protect you and your anchor. It would be the greatest of honors for Novoro.”

Aron gives a dismissive snort. “I need no army. I am a god.”

Secuban looks worried. “I have heard rumors that other gods are building armies, my lord. In Adassia—”

“I am a god,” Aron states again, his tone brooking no argument.

Secuban bows deep. “Of course. Forgive me if I overstepped.” But he looks concerned, and I realize he knows more than he’s letting on. If others are forming armies, shouldn’t we do that, too?

I bite my lip and study Aron. As much as I don’t want to travel with an army, I also don’t want to die. But the look on Aron’s face tells me that no army is coming with us, regardless.

And I’m reminded that in addition to being a god, Aron is the personification of arrogance. I hope it’s not arrogance that makes him want to set off without extra men.

Really, really not a fan of dying, after all.

OceanofPDF.com

56

A short time later, we set off on our woales, heavily laden with supplies. Yulenna rides behind Solat, and I ride with Aron. It’s bitterly cold and despite the layers of clothing I’m wearing, I’m shivering within minutes. Snow falls in a relentless blanket as we head out the north gate of Novoro and onto the rocky mountain path. Ahead of us stretches a trail that leads into the mountains, and I can see far ahead…and there’s nothing to see. There’s only more mountains, more snow, and more forbidding landscape.

It makes me wonder if we should have stayed in Novoro after all.

But Aron takes a deep breath as the imposing Novoro citadel disappears, and he relaxes. I can’t help but laugh, and I poke him in the side. “Glad to be gone?”

He glares at me from over his shoulder. “You have no idea how much that lord simpers and natters on, desperate to win approval.”

“Oh, I can guess.” Aron hasn’t had a moment’s peace since we arrived at Novoro. “Are you sure you won’t miss the titty buffet?”

“Titty…buffet?”

“Yeah, the all-you-can-eat, all-the-pussy-you-can-stand parties he put on every night?”

Aron snorts with amusement. “As if that would please me. A ‘titty buffet’ as you call it is unnecessary.”

“Because you don’t eat?”

“Because no tits hold my interest save yours.”

And just because I like hearing that, I press them against his back.

The snow grows thicker as the hours pass and the day steadily colder. No amount of layers keeps me warm and I’m shivering as I hold onto Aron. The woales seem utterly unaffected by the change in weather, plodding onward and chewing feed from ice-crusted feed bags. I look over at the other mortals in our group and see they’re all suffering as much as me. Yulenna’s teeth chatter constantly and her face is buried against Solat’s cloak. The other men have their heads down, shoulders hunched as they lean into the wind and try to endure it.

“Can we stop for the night?” I ask Aron when the sun goes down under the horizon. “I know a woale can go all night, but my ass quit about two hours ago. I need a fire and to get out of this wind before my nose freezes off my face.”

He looks over his shoulder at me in irritation, but his expression softens as he gazes on my face. I must look really bad because he nods. “We’ll set up camp here.”

“Here?” I ask, surprised. I look around and we’re still in the mountains, on the muddy, nasty path that winds between the rocks. It doesn’t look like any place I’d want to walk, much less spend the night. “In the middle of the road?”

“We’re not going to be out of the mountains tonight,” Aron says, tugging on the reins of our woale. “This is as good a place as any.”

“But it’s the middle of the road,” I protest. I guess I envisioned a nice copse of trees, a nearby creek, something more camp-like than just parking our asses here. We’re not even on an even slope.

“You heard Novoro’s lord,” Markos calls out. “They are the only ones with access to the northern wastes. They will not let anyone through to threaten my lord Aron.”

He’s got a point. And I do want to stop.

“Don’t be so fussy, Faith,” Aron murmurs. “Would you rather go back to Novoro and endure another titty feast?”

“It’s ‘buffet,’ and good point.”

Aron helps me down, and then I huddle with Yulenna while the three soldiers make two tents—one for me and Aron, and one for the rest of them to huddle in. I know Yulenna won’t say a thing, but I don’t like the thought of her sleeping with the guys. I pull Yulenna close. “You’re sleeping with us tonight, all right?”

“I would be honored to service you both,” she says, smiling at me.

Erk. “In a purely non-sexual way. I just want you to sleep somewhere where you don’t have to worry about being groped.”

“Markos would never,” Yulenna protests immediately.

Interesting that she mentions Markos out of all four. “And Kerren would never, either. But Vitar and Solat might not care.”

She laughs and nods. “I thank you, Faith. You’ve been good to me.” And she huddles up against me again.

I feel like a jerk as I share warmth with her. She’s been nothing but nice to me and I was terribly, horribly jealous of her when we first met. I’m learning a lot about myself and maybe Aron’s not the only one that had a touch of arrogance that needed to be eradicated. I hug her close, determined to be a better friend.

Vitar builds a fire in the center of the road, and then small folding stools are produced for me and Aron. Aron—who hasn’t lifted a finger—immediately sits and pulls me into his lap. I don’t even protest. It’s too cold, and he’s far too warm. I wrap my cloak around both of us and snuggle close. His big hand closes over my inner thigh, and for a moment, my girl parts get excited, thinking they’re about to get more attention. But all he does is hold me, one hand splayed over my lower back.

And really, it’s kind of nice to just cuddle.

Yulenna stands near the fire until Markos grabs the stool and indicates she should sit. She does gratefully, putting her hands out toward the flame for warmth. Kerren puts a pouch of water over the fire to boil, adding vegetables and hunks of dried meat as he goes. I notice Solat avoids Aron (and me), and he’s unusually quiet. Poor Solat.

Vitar crouches near the fire, putting his hands out. “Never thought the edge of the world would be so cold.”

“You thought it would be warm?” Kerren asks, surprised.

“No, of course not. Just…not quite like this. My balls are about to shrivel into coins.” He glances over at me. “Apologies.”

I just shrug. I like hearing the conversations, because it lets me glean more about this place that I’ve landed. Aron’s not much help since he’s as much a stranger here as I am. “So this is the edge of the world? Really?”

“Of course not. Mortals are fools,” Aron murmurs into my ear.

“It is not,” Markos says, nudging Vitar as he crouches next to him. “We’re simply far north. That’s all.”

“Edge of the world,” Vitar says again. “And we’re heading to the edge of time, where the spiders dwell. Just like the stories say.”

Solat snorts.

“It’s true,” Vitar protests. “When you were a boy, didn’t your mam tell you stories about the gods of time that lived in a tower made of webs and rode spiders? Who could kill with a jerk of a thread? And how if you step on a spider, you have to apologize to the Spidae so they don’t remove you from the weave?”