Page 40 of Lady Knight and the Thief

“Nothing that concerns you, Lass.”

Cypress scoffed, but before she could say anything, Torren said, “Now don’t be going and pressing your luck. I can’t lie to ye, but I don’thaveto answer your questions.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine.”

Cypress’s pride wouldn’t tolerate the rebuke. But, she could be patient for just a bit longer. One way or another, Cypress would learn Torren’s true motives.

14

Giants

Inthemiddleofthe night, when only the crackle of the many campfires and crickets chirping filled the night, Cypress woke with a start.

Her heart pounded, sweat beading on the back of her neck. Slowly, she looked around the room, scanning for any sign of something amiss.

A great boom sounded somewhere in the forest, shaking the ground, the tent, and her bed.

Another greatBoom–then a tremendous rumble. The earth rippled like a wave, as if the solid bedrock had turned into the ocean.

“Torren–” Cypress whispered, sure that something horrific was just outside their tent.

Torren lay in his bed on the other side of the tent, a small curtain concealing a portion of his sleeping quarters.

“What?” he mumbled, as if sleep still claimed him.

“What is that?” she whispered, fingers reaching for her blade.

Boom, and the ground shook once more.

“I told you the Giants were awake, lass,” Torren grumbled, then rolled over.

Within moments, he was snoring, while Cypress counted each step the Giants took as they went further and further away.

Eventually, when she knew they were far away from the camp by the gradual lessening of the wave-like rumble of the ground, sleep reclaimed Cypress.

15

The Larger the Greatsword, the Smaller the…

Torrenwokefromthedepths of slumber by the steady rasp of a blade being sharpened. The rhythmic scrape had slowly lifted him to wakefulness with his face pressed into the pillow.

He had fallen asleep on his side, though with the state of his sheets, one might have thought Torren fought a vicious battle in the depths of slumber.

As soon as his eyes opened, they fixed on Cypress, bent over her daggers, steadily running a whet stone across the blades. She still wore only the short robe the women of Faerie preferred, feet bare on the grass.

Torren sighed, then moaned, “Mustyou do that now?”

Cypress barely paused her work when she replied. “Dawn has already broken, Princeling. Perhaps we can accomplish something while we’re still young if you get your ass out of bed.”

Surprised laughter burst from Torren’s chest. “Lass, it’s far too early to be having a battle of wits.”

“Pft, only if you’re an imbecile," Cypress muttered back. The steady rasp of the whetstone against the blade raised the hair of Torren’s arm and sent a shiver down his spine.

Torren shook his head and rolled out of bed, then bent to stretch his still stiff limbs. “What has you up so early, Lass?”

“The sun,” Cypress drawled back, then asked, “How far is it to the tombs?”

“Roughly two days, if we make good time. Our next stop is A'aravos Paravale.”