I seem to be getting the hang of this conversation thing! ‘Tis strange that someone would place such importance on the occasional utterance of words, but there ye have it. Traveling with a female is an experience all on its own.
Slain did not like to admit to himself that it wasthisfemale in particular whom he wanted to experience. All through his life, he had only ever come into contact with two types of women: strict old ladies like his foster aunt who were embittered by a disappointing life, and wenches. Slaine was quite smitten with his first encounter with an ordinary girl. His way of life gave him no opportunity to meet fresh-faced and beautiful young lasses. When most ordinary women saw him, they would either flutter their fans in suppressed excitement or look at him as though he had crawled out from under a rock. But Blair made him think he might have been missing out on something.
Blair caught Slaine looking at her from the side of his eyes. She drew Pooka to ride beside him, exclaiming, “I saw that look, Slaine, and I’ve come to recognize it as meaning one of two things: Ye’re contemplating a change o’ plans, or it’s time for us to stop and partake of some nuncheon.”
Slain smiled. “For such a wee lass, ye certainly think about food a lot.”
Blair would not be put off. “And why shouldnae I? I only ate a tiny bannock in the saddle this morn. So, ye have a change o’ plans then?”
“Ye also think about alternate schemes a lot, too,” Slaine mused.
“Ye’re the one who gallops off toward taverns and towns without so much as giving me the chance to ken before it happens.” Blair was indefatigable with her interrogation. She was so busy needling at Slaine for details, she nearly did not see a wall of chopped down trees in front of her. Fortunately, Pooka did and stopped without her having to rein him in.
“What's this?” she said, and looked on either side of Pooka for signs of woodsmen and axes, but the ground was clear of debris.
Slaine said nothing but looked grim. The cliffs reared up on either side of the road, forming a crevasse out of the pathway. He had seen cut logs used as barriers before to corral deer into a kill zone or to drive men toward an avenue of archers. Both methods would prove lethal if such a plan were afoot.
He said nothing out loud; he did not want Blair to grow frightened. They were not well dressed enough to invite someone to kill or kidnap them in expectation of richer pickings.
“We must find another route,” was all he said, and gave Maximus the office to turn and face the other way. “It doesnae matter if it’s a bit longer. I dinnae like the look of this.”
Blair was outraged. “What! All the way out the woods to find another road just because of a pile of logs? When we can simply ride a bit of the way into the forest an’ go around them? Are ye mad?”
Slaine was stung by her tone and decided not to sugarcoat his suspicions any longer. “Aye! ‘Tis better we do that than risk meeting whoever planted these trees across our pathway, or are ye too blind to see that?”
Blair resorted to sarcasm again, “Och,pardonme. Why d’ye think I hired ye if it wasnae for ye to take care of circumstances such as this?” Blair pointed at the logs. “If ye won’t come with me around the barricade, then I want ye to move them, cut them or something—I care nae!”
Slaine was fuming. “Cut through dozens of logs thicker than a castle keep’s gateway? It’syewho’s mad!”
“I order ye to do so!! If ye dinnae, I’ll go ’round anyway and take me gold with me!”
Now the two of them were yelling at each other fit to raise the dead, their voices echoing off the looming cliffs and resounding back at them. All the sweet understanding that had arisen between them the previous night had melted away like ice in summer.
Blair tried one last attempt to reason with Slaine. “Listen! I need to get to Cromachy quickly. Every minute we waste is one where me faither might slip further into danger. Let’s cut through the woods and take our chance.”
Slaine was adamant. He’d seen this trick pulled on so many travelers, he’d lost count.
“Nay. ‘Tis too dangerous. It’s a trap, the same as willingly walkin’ into a coney snare. An’ I’m no coney, Blair. Why d’ye think they placed it right here? It’s at that point where people such as yerself lose their resolve to turn back.”
Blair was torn. Half of her was willing to listen to Slaine’s line of reasoning and the other half—the impatient and heedless half—was desperate to get to Cromachy as soon as possible. She looked at Slaine’s resolute stance and crossed arms and no longer saw an ally; she saw a hindrance.
“Either we go over, or we go around. Which is it to be?”
Slaine gave Maximus the signal to begin trotting back the way they had come.
Blair was furious. She watched Slaine’s back disappear down the road, and it felt like someone was sticking a fish hook into her stomach and twisting it.
“Go on then! Hie back the way ye came, ye...ye...big lummox! I dinnae like ye no more, so there!”
Slaine was already so far down the road, the trees were able to stifle all of Blair’s words, but he could hear her high-pitched voice shouting at him all the while. Suddenly, the noise stopped. Hating himself for no longer being able to stop caring, Slaine turned around.
The road in front of the logs was empty.
Slaine felt his stomach lurch with apprehension. In a trice, he had Maximus turned around and galloping back to the spot at full speed.
Why could she nae follow me? Why is she so stubborn? I’ve met mules more reasonable than her!
He pulled hard on Maximus’s reins to make him halt before the wild stallion thought he should jump the barricade. The horse stopped in an instant, and Slaine had to grip the animal’s sides hard with his thighs to stop himself from tumbling over the spirited beast’s head.
