Luke stood atop a hill and looked over the surrounding terrain. In the distance, Port Talmer’s walls rose from the plains, partially secluded by firs. From here, the ground sloped downward from the rocky mountain terrain into the flat plains below. The rest of the troop had gotten ahead of him, but he didn’t bother to catch up. Instead, he turned back to look at Rebecca.
The woman was lagging behind considerably, and she looked as if she felt miserable. She walked slowly, her head lowered and shoulders sagging. Yet the look on her face didn’t display grief—whatever was ailing her, it had to be physical.
As she caught up to him, she gazed up at him with a mildly surprised look. “You don’t have to keep waiting up on me, Luke. I’m fine… Just a little tired from all the traveling.”
Luke wasn’t sure he believed that, but if she was lying about her condition now, nothing would make her tell the truth. “We’re almost at Po