Dagger's Point (Shadow series) by Anne Logston

already receiving. At least this way the horses’ improved pace on the morrow would prove Jael’s honesty.
    Despite her weariness, Jael found that sleep eluded her. She felt safer with the guards and merchants nearby, but the ground was hard and uncomfortable, and she missed the soft hay of the night before, even if it had made her nose run. When she spent the summers with Mist in the Heartwood, they’d stayed in his comfortable hanging bower in a tree near Inner Heart. Even on their frequent journeys through the Heartwood they’d woven sleeping nests in willows when they could, or at least piled leaves or some such to soften their bedrolls. Here there was a lump the size of a small mountain under her hip, and the bruises from her last sword practice ached.
    The small fire, too, had been good enough to cast a little light and warm the roast fowl for their supper, but the ground was cold, unlike the hay in the barn the night before. Jael squirmed uncomfortably, remembering the warmth of the shared blankets and of Tanis’s arm around her the night before. She wriggled around onto her other side, scrabbled under her bedroll, and tossed the offending rock aside. Now there was a hollow where the rock had been.
    Jael scrunched down a little lower in the covers, then sighed and gave up. She rolled over again.
    “Tanis?”
    “What?” Tanis’s eyes were open, and Jael wondered whether he’d had difficulty sleeping, too.
    “Can I move over there with you?” Jael asked sheepishly.
    Tanis grinned back at her.
    “I’d have asked if you hadn’t,” he admitted. “Bring your blankets and come on.”
    Combining their pallets gave them more cushioning from the packed earth and twice the covering over them, and the warmth of Tanis’s body against hers banished the last of the spring chill.
    Her cheek pillowed on his shoulder, Jael finally relaxed and slept.
    Morning dawned cold and foggy, rain-heavy clouds hanging low. Jael and Tanis rode behind the caravan, cheerful despite the weather. When the first hour of riding revealed that the limping horses now stepped along at a much improved pace, Reda had ridden ahead to confer with the wagonmaster. She rode back to hand Tanis a small purse of coin.
    “You can camp at our fires tonight and until we reach Westenvale,” she said. “Wagonmaster Nezed says if it rains today, you can tie your horses behind his wagon and ride inside if you don’t mind sitting on boxes of copper pots.” She rode away before Jael or Tanis could make any reply.
    “They don’t exactly smother you in thanks,” Jael said wryly.
    “I’d rather have a dry place to sit and a comfortable camp than thanks anyway,” Tanis said, chuckling. “Plus, of course, some of our coin returned.”
    “How much did you have to pay to begin with?” Jael asked.
    “Ten Moons,” Tanis admitted. “Expensive. And that was after I bargained him down from the fifteen Moons he asked. I’ll wager he’d have asked no more than three or four Moons if we’d joined the caravan under less suspicious conditions.”
    “We paid half a Sun just to follow in their wagon ruts and camp on the ground?” Jael asked, shocked. “How much did he give you back?”
    Tanis opened the pouch and looked inside.
    “It looks like about five Moons’ worth of coppers,” he said. “Well, that’s much more reasonable, although on our next caravan I hope you don’t have to break hinder-spells to earn a fair price.”
    “I don’t mind the spells,” Jael said slowly, “but what about the highwaymen? Do you still think they’ve set up an ambush ahead of us?”
    “I don’t know,” Tanis said, his voice lowered. He guided his horse to ride closer beside Jael. “The wagonmaster’s sent some of the guards to ride ahead and look for any places where robbers could have enough cover to hide and wait for us, and I see the guards have their bows ready, too. But it’s not impossible that the highwaymen could have someone inside the caravan—