The driver opened the drawstring and whistled. “You buying them?”
Toothless nodded.“Benyn a-der i.”
“We all need to vote before you do anything with her.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Toothless pierced Bree with his gaze and stormed back to the fire. He kicked the other two men awake.
Bree dropped her head.Benynmeant woman. So that’s why he was watching her so intently—the scum wanted to buy her. She nudged the girl awake. “Wake up. We need to go soon.”
Chapter 4
Horland hurried down the main road that had taken him from the town of Frother. He had been travelling two days and even with the rain on the first day, he had made good time. Slowing to a sedate walk, his gaze scanned the outer edge of the Forest of Uther, looking for the track that would lead him deep into the woods. He hoped to make his way through the forest in two, or maybe three, days. Spotting the track, he stepped off the road. His boot twisted under him and pain knifed through his ankle as he fell to the ground.
He sat up with a grunt and pulled his boot off. It would be hard going with a broken ankle. He carefully took his ankle in both hands and pressed the offending ache. Certain it wasn’t broken, he hoped it wasn’t otherwise injured. He pulled his boot back on and stood up, carefully putting weight on the foot. No pain. He smiled.
He looked around for the reason of his fall. He was usually sure-footed and couldn’t believe a stone or rock could have dislodged him so easily. He spied something glinting in the sunlight. Bending, he scooped it up and gasped. Thesmooth rounded surface was the reason for his fall. He’d lost his balance when it rolled under his boot. Turning the sphere this way and that, he was certain it was the very keepsake that Patricia always carried with her.
Frowning, he surveyed his surroundings. Which way did she go? He knelt and examined the area until he found a small footprint, one that could have been the same size as Patricia’s booted foot. He found another print, then noted sliding and scuffing in the dirt. He stood up and walked along the road where he found big and small boot prints. He spotted wheel imprints. Of course, many wagons and carriages travelled the road to and from Frother, but he noted one set of wheels turned off the road and rolled onto the track into the forest. His frown deepened; what business would someone have in the forest?
What had happened? He didn’t know but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. If Patricia was there and—he tightened his grip on the sphere—he was sure she had been, someone had forced her into a wagon.
Garlain was the first name that came to mind. He shook his head. No, Garlain was an honorable man. He was not only a knight of the kingdom, but he was Horland’s childhood friend, and a more trustworthy man no one could find. Also, there was no reason for Garlain to force Patricia anywhere. She loved him and would follow him without thought. No. It had to be someone else.
But what was she doing on foot so close to town? Mayhap she and her baby daughter had been kidnapped and now they were free. Mayhap she was trying to return to the town of Frother, to Garlain.
Perhaps that was why Garlain was so grieved the year before. Perhaps he had learned of Patricia and his daughter’s kidnapping but couldn’t find them. Horland pressed his lips together. Surely the king and his army would have foundthem and punished the bandits. But gathering the knights and army would have caused a commotion, and the town’s people would be all a chatter with the reason. Simone would have known and if she did, Horland was certain she would have told him.
He glared at the prints. Had she been once again caught by brigands?
Well, no matter if Patricia and her baby were taken a year ago or a day or two ago, Garlain had Horland to help now and together, they would find them.
The wagon took the same track that Horland intended to follow, so he made his way along the narrow road.
The sun set and darkness soon enveloped Horland. With his previous fall in his mind, he focused on where he placed his feet as he made his way down the road.
Sometime later, the smell of burning wood wafted over him and he stopped, sniffing the air. Fire. He scanned the area but it being too dark to see, he could not make out the direction. He lifted his face to the sky. No breeze. He sniffed again and a faint, almost nonexistent aroma melded with the fire. Food.
He knelt on one knee, drew his bow from his back and nocked an arrow. Anyone in the kingdom would know the Forest of Uther was not one to roam about in at night. Even in the day, most skirted around it, preferring to make their journey longer in an effort to stay alive.
Mayhap the fire was closer to the edge of the forest and not further in. Using his hunting skills, he stepped silently across the ground, making his way out of the forest. As the trees thinned, a breeze brought the smell of the fire stronger to his nose, and so too did the wind bring the scent of cooked meat. His stomach grumbled. He had food but he had to ration it to last for many days. Because of that, he hadn’t eaten since that morning, and then he onlybroke his fast with some carrots he pulled out of the ground.
Not knowing if they were friend or foe, he kept his head down and crept forward until he spied the fire and a large pot hanging in the dying flames. He hoped they were friend.
Voices rose and carried on the breeze, angry voices. He ducked behind a wide-girthed tree and counted three shabbily dressed men shouting at and over one another. A fourth man sat quietly watching his comrades with a wary look in his eye. So not friend then.
As the clouds parted and the full moon’s rays shone on the camp, Horland straightened his back and stood tall. He was a knight of Pradwick. He had fought many battles and had taken on more than four at once.
Returning his bow and arrow, he put his hand on the hilt of his sword and stepped out behind the tree. He caught sight of a cage upon a wagon with two people inside and quickly retraced his steps to behind the tree. He rounded the trunk so he could see better. A woman was whispering into a small child’s ear.
As if sensing his gaze on her, she stared right into his eyes. His heart jerked in his chest. Her green eyes caught the moonbeams and shone; her red hair shimmered. The men had captured a goddess.
Something moved in his vision, bringing him out of his reverie. He frowned. The woman was waving at him, shooing him like a servant unneeded. He set his jaw and lifted his boot to step out from behind the tree.
Her eyes widened in fright and, waving him frantically away, her mouth dropped open.
Fearing she was going to scream, he slipped back to his hideaway. He stayed still for a moment, piercing her with his gaze in the hope she would understand his anger. He was aknight of Pradwick, and she dared to command him? That would not do.
He tried to signal that he would save her, but she just kept waving him back. Either she was numb-brained, or she couldn’t understand his intent.
