The Prince's Mark

Chapter Twelve

People could get used to anything. That's what humans liked to say, anyway. In some ways Tracou had adapted to his situation, but it constantly drained bits of him away like a leak in a cask. More than two weeks had crawled by and it felt like every second of that time weighed on him.

Things weren't all bad. He and Ina had grown to see more eye to eye than they had before. Pendaer, of course, was unable to do so—not only because he was nearly a foot taller than either Tracou or Ina was but because he was wholly disinterested. Tracou and Ina would chat now and then, though, which did make things more bearable for Tracou. Ina wasn't exactly his friend, but she wasn't an enemy either.

But that wasn't enough. Weeks of a diet where they ate whatever they could find that wasn't meat was not doing him any favors.

They hadn't seen a village since they had left when, surely, they should have seen at least one. The amount of random berries he had eaten had undoubtedly passed the hundreds by now. A village would have bread. They would have cultivated vegetables and fruit, too, not just berries or roots.

"How long does it take to get to Zeibr territory?" Tracou asked Ina as they sat around the fire one night.

Several yards away, Pendaer sat by himself in the darkness. Even now, instead of swallowing his elf pride long enough to sit with his 'lessers,' Pendaer staunchly refused to interact with them whenever possible.

"My answer won't change no matter how many times you ask me. It's been two weeks, so we should be there soon," Ina said.

Tracou held his head in his hands and groaned. Those few days with Mirthal had flown by like it was nothing, but every day he spent chained up and traveling with Pendaer and Ina felt like it took an entire year.

"Why haven't we seen any villages? When I make my way to Shalen from Dezmer, there are villages every few miles!"

"There should be villages this way, I think..." Ina shifted in her spot in the dirt. "Sometimes the Zeibr come up this way to steal things from us, so there has to be things for them to take. Maybe we're going around them?"

That would be infuriating. At least if they stopped in a village for the night they might be able to sleep inside someone's home. They might even get decent food. Maybe Pendaer wouldn't let Tracou stay in someone's house but surely he would be allowed to stay in a barn or something.

"Hey, Pendaer! Are you avoiding villages on purpose?" Tracou called.

"Lina, hit him."

And so Ina did, smacking the back of Tracou's head. Tracou was now old hat at this and embellished his "ow!" just enough for it to not be suspicious.

"I've told you, dezmek, that you'll call me sir."

Tracou said nothing. Calling Pendaer sir was a bridge too far and he wasn't going to do it unless he had no other choice.

"Hit him again."

Ina did as she was told, slightly harder this time. It actually stung and Tracou shot her a glare.

"Regardless, I am avoiding the villages. I'm certain the prince will do the same because he wants to move as quickly as possible. He probably thinks that, once he's crossed the border, he'll be safe. We can slow down then."

"Wouldn't it be a good idea to at least see if we can get some bread? And what if you're wrong? It wouldn't hurt to stop by one village and ask around to check if anyone has seen him."

"I'm not wrong and we'll continue as planned. You'll live without bread for a few weeks."

With a groan, Tracou pulled his knees up and rested his arms and head on his knees. Everything was awful.