Blocked by a series of steep ridges looming ever before them, the
entire royal expedition had been encamped in the same place these past
few days, while the scouts searched for a way to go on.
Hunting parties went out daily for provisions to restock their marching
fare. Others found honey, and gathered fruits, berries, nuts, and
roots, with armed guards always standing at the ready.
In camp, those assigned to the Chief Cook worked at preparing, drying,
preserving, and packing away the food for the next portion of their
long and uncertain journey.
* * *
"Today, we march," said Borla, watching her closely as Si'Wren emerged
from her tent with her empty wooden porridge bowl and set it down.
Si'Wren was unaware of the way he watched her, and she had not bothered
to braid her hair in the usual manner as was her custom, in accession
to her Emperor's wishes of the night just past. Momentarily, Borla
stared at her as if he had never seen a woman before in his entire life
and could no longer control the direction of his eyes.
To this remark, Si'Wren nodded with a thoughtlessly off-handed look of
such distraction and unconcern that she must have somehow greatly vexed
Borla, for he suddenly rounded on her in what must have been a
masterfully concealed fit of anger as he regarded her expressionlessly.
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