All that Glitters (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 1) by Loren K. Jones

he'd never even told his father why he hadn't volunteered to go. He had, however, gone to see Dorvina as soon as the expedition, including Barvil and Stavin, was gone. That was worrisome, but unless Shari asked him to intercede, he would stay out of it. A smile crossed his lips as another thought crossed his mind. Sahrena was formidable enough to keep the boy on his best behavior, no matter what her status. Harner had best keep his intentions and actions absolutely honorable, or she'd flay him alive.

Chapter 13
    M ORNING WAS ANNOUNCED BY THE RINGING of a bell somewhere in the distance. Stavin and Karvik were up in a flash and quickly dressed. Even so, they weren't the first to the privy, and had to join the line of warriors and traders on their way to take care of that most common of morning rituals.
    Breakfast was next, and the warriors were delighted. Pork bacon, duck eggs scrambled in the bacon grease, and thick oat porridge with honey made a meal that no one could complain about.
    No one dawdled over the meal, and the first six teamsters to finish eating jumped in to help the cook stow his gear. The trader walked over to where Barvil inspected his men.
    "We'll be ready to roll in short order," he said as he looked over the warriors and nodded in satisfaction. "A fine pair of hands you have here, Barvil. Always true of your people."
    Barvil nodded his acknowledgement of the compliment. "We're ready."
    "Master Trader?" Stavin asked, stepping forward. "What happened to those men last night?"
    The trader looked him straight in the eye and said, "Firth lost his head. His fool accomplice only lost his tongue."
    Stavin nodded and stepped back, unconsciously seeking the protection of his peers.
    Barvil snapped, "Mount up!" and the warriors immediately obeyed. Once everyone was mounted, Barvil gave his marching orders. "Dav, Kahn, I need your experience in the rear. I'll be in the front on the left side of the lead wagon. Stavin, I want you on the right of number three. Kar, left of number five. The rest of you spread out, opposite sides of the odd wagons, Kahn and Dav last. Pick up your wagons as they leave. Questions?" When no one spoke, he nodded and said, "We'll confer tonight," then rode off to fall in beside the trader and their cook in the lead wagon.
    One by one the wagons rolled past, and one by one the valley warriors took their places.
    * * *
    Stavin's number three slot put him far enough back that his view was limited to the right side of the road. The wagon was too high for him to see over, and the teamster had simply sneered when he had tried to strike up a conversation. He scanned the countryside around them, but the forest blocked his view after just a few dragon-lengths. He was bored, dusty, and to make matters worse, it wasn't even halfway to mid day yet!
    Mid day came at last and a man rode back along the line of wagons with bundles for everyone, but the wagons showed no sign of stopping. The man told him, "Bring the cloth back at supper. That's what we calls the even' meal in these parts." Then he rode on down the line. Stavin found that his bundle held a hunk of cheese, a piece of sausage, and half a loaf of bread. Sighing mightily, he ate slowly and drank water from his flask.
    Stavin tried to amuse himself as he rode through the day. He'd been warned that boredom was the lot of a caravan guard, but he'd never really believed it. He tried playing mind games, but he'd never been very good at those. He talked to Tru, his horse, and she swiveled an ear to listen. She'd been his only companion, the only living being willing to listen to him, for a long time before he and Karvik had become friends.
    The young warriors received their horses as barely weaned colts or fillies in the spring of their tenth year, when they ascended from Child to Youth and became full-time warrior students. He'd picked Tru, a golden-tan filly, and they had been trained in horsemanship together. He spent all but the three weeks he'd been