“Anyone unaccustomed to riding is sore for the first couple of days.” Keegan’s grin widened. “I expected you to fold hours ago. I’d seen you before when I would travel the road past your place. I admit I wondered at what kind of man you were. You’ve got grit on your spine. I’ll give you that.”

He jerked his head toward the trees. “Made those other two ride an agonizing wait but they did it. You didn’t seem much of a leader type to me, but there have been occasions when I’ve been wrong before.”

“I’m no leader. I’m a blacksmith. And I didn’t say anything because you are a smug bastard with a big mouth,” Ronan snapped, angry that his pride was so easily injured by Keegan. He’d hoped the horseman wouldn’t guess of his pains.

“Blacksmith or not, that boy wouldn’t have opened his mouth again if it wasn’t for the woman and she would not have at all had her bladder been younger.” Keegan didn’t seem offended at Ronan’s insult. “They were following you.”

“I didn’t ask them to.” Ronan finally gave in and bent sideways, stretching the tight muscles of his back. The movement sparked a new pain, one he welcomed that stretched and released the tension that had formed in his body.

“A true leader doesn’t have to ask.” Keegan shrugged his large shoulders. Ronan had to think about that. They saw him as a leader? He supposed out of the three, he was the most likely to lead, but still he wasn’t certain he liked the responsibility that came with that. It seemed that with each passing moment the King’s Sword brought more and more complicated obligations to his otherwise simple life.

“You would follow me?” Ronan bent to the other side and allowed himself one low groan of relief.

“As long as you were riding one of my horses I would.” Keegan’s grin parted, revealing his uneven white teeth. “I’m not a follower though. I’m a man of business and make my own way.”

Ronan grunted an answer as he straightened, eyes moving to Ula as she stepped from the trees with Arien.