The tight set of Rangar’s shoulders eased. “If he can complain, he’s well enough to survive. Saraj?”
The falconer climbed into the carriage to inspect Valenden’s wounds. “Let me see the wound, Val. Dammit, stop moving . . .”
While Saraj tended to Valenden’s injury, Rangar led Bryn to the carriage’s front, where the lantern shone brightly. He pressed a hand to her cheek to guide her to look him in the eye.
“Tell me you’re all right.”
“I’m all right, Rangar.”
He pulled up her bloody sleeve to inspect the bite mark. His face was grim in the twilight shadows. “It’s fortunate the beast didn’t get its jaws around you—this is only a gash from its incisors. It will heal, though it might . . . scar.”
She swallowed, feeling suddenly numb.A scar is only a scar, she wanted to reassure him, but couldn’t find the words.
Instead, she said in a rasping voice, “The horse?”
Rangar shook his head. “It would have bled to death anyway. The wolves had already fatally wounded it. With luck, it will draw them far off before they bring it down.”
She stared at the blood pooling on the road around the other dead horse. “Will the wolves come back?”
“Not likely after we killed two of their pack. Besides, the horse that led them off should feed the lot of them. Wolves only attack when they’re hungry.”
“Those weren’t normal wolves.” Bryn couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice. “You saw them, they were enormous! And fast. And their eyes . . .” She pressed her lips together.
Rangar rubbed her shoulders, making soothing sounds like he would calm a spooked horse. “It’ll be all right.”
“What about the carriage?” she pressed. “We can’t go anywhere without horses.”
Rangar was silent for a few moments before he said, “I’ll have to go seek help.”
She gripped his hand with a strength she didn’t know she had. “You can’t go off on your own! There could be more wolves!”
“We have no choice. I’ll start a bonfire here for you and Saraj and Val. Even hungry wolves fear fire. Stay near the fire and they won’t dare venture close. You can always lock yourself in the carriage, too.”
“It’syouI’m worried about!”
“I don’t fear wolves.” He paused, then added, “Not any longer.”
Thinking of their shared past pulled Bryn out of her panic. Taking a few deep breaths, she blinked a few times and then said, “I don’t want you to go.”
“The dangers of the forest are nothing new to me. I’ll hike back to Bergil Town and then return with fresh horses before dawn.”
She wanted to argue but couldn’t think of any alternative solution. Her worries were interrupted when Saraj stuck her head out of the carriage. “I’ve bandaged Val the best I can manage. He’s sleeping now. He dug a bottle of whiskey out of his bag and drained the entire thing.”
Rangar and Bryn returned their attention to Valenden, who was now snoring on the bearskin cloak. Saraj had removed his bloody clothes down to his waist and wrapped his wounds in strips torn from one of his shirts.
“How bad is it?” Rangar asked.
“He’ll recover as long as it doesn’t get infected. We need to make haste back to Barendur Hold so the mages can treat him properly.”
Rangar explained his plan to return to Bergil Town, and Saraj agreed it was the best course of action. The three of them dragged fallen logs from the forest to the side of the road, where Rangar used a hex to light a fire. By the time the flames rose, night had fully fallen, and sparks glittered in the darkness.
Sitting on a log between the fire and the carriage, Bryn hugged her blanket tighter around her shoulders as she watched Rangar gather extra weapons and coins to purchase new horses.
Finally, he came to stand in front of her, then dropped into a crouch. In his bearskin cloak with dirt and blood streaking his face, he looked as much a beast as the wolves themselves.
“I’ll return before dawn, Bryn.”
She stared at their clasped hands, unable to look him in the eyes for fear that she might never see his face again.
