Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One)

Chapter Thirty-Six

The horse was loaded and ready to go with enough provisions to last the two of us for an overnight stay. Tristan didn't seem to think that we would be met with any trouble, but he'd given me an extra knife, just in case.

"I don't know how they'll receive us," he'd explained. "And I've heard nothing of Thomas since he and his men disappeared. We wouldn't want to be unarmed, should they be hiding in the jungle and come across us."

"That makes me feel so relaxed," I'd snipped, taking the blade from him.

Now, watching him take another swig of whiskey before mounting, I felt grateful for the small weapon. If he wasn't good and drunk already, he would be soon, judging from the full flask of alcohol he'd placed in his coat pocket.

"Are you sure we shouldn't get a cart for you, or something?" I asked apprehensively as he lifted a foot and placed it in John's hands.

"The cart would be worse," he answered calmly, grabbing the pommel of the saddle with his free hand. "Too bumpy."

"I have to agree with the lady, Captain," John said carefully. "It's much too soon for ye to be riding off without the men. Should there be a fight, ye'll be easier to pick off than flies on a horse."

"Hey!" I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "I'm not that great of a fighter, but I could protect us if I needed to."

"Against a whole tribe of aborigine slaves?" he returned skeptically. "No offense, miss, but ye aren't really the man that fought twenty of 'em and had his tongue severed in the name of love."

"The Greeks aren't aborigines," Tristan spoke, calling John's attention back to him. "Now, help me up."

On the other side of the horse, I held the reins steady, glaring at John as he helped to lift Tristan up. It didn't take more than a few seconds, but I could tell from the grimace on Tristan's face, and the speed at which he redrew his flask, that it had hurt.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

"Aye." He nodded curtly, dismissing John with his thanks. "Get on, then. In front of me, if ye don't mind. I'll let ye lead him."

Acknowledging his request, I took the saddle, putting my foot in the stirrup, and easily mounted, careful not to bump Tristan's shoulder as I settled into my spot.

"Ye know how to ride a horse then." There was a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Good. Let's be on our way."

Easing the animal forward, we started on the road out of town and into the jungle. The brush was thick and the path narrow, strange trees I'd only ever seen in pictures stretching up around us.

"It's beautiful," I said with wonderment, once again struck by how green everything was. "You know, I've never been to a rainforest before?"

"Aye?" Tristan asked, seeming to hold his own behind me, his strong arm curved around my waist. "I've been. A monkey stole my coin purse."

Laughing, I peered over my shoulder at him, not sure whether he was being serious.

"It was here, on Madagascar," he explained. "Two years back. I'd been out with the crew, meeting with the natives. They gave us something to smoke and by the end of the night I couldn't tell up from down. The little bugger climbed right on top of me and took it without me even trying to stop him."

"Sounds like quite the night," I chuckled.

"Oh, it was. But nothing compared to the jungles across the sea. I've never been there, but I've heard tales."