After this night, Hall knew that Bridget MacCulloch was the only thing he wanted. And the one thing he could never have.
Twenty-five
IF SHE CLOSEDher eyes and pretended hard enough, Bridget could almost make herself believe she rode this trail alone. But since closing her eyes meant missing valuable signs her quarry might have left behind, she forced herself to keep them open.
It hadn’t worked that well, anyway.
Hall’s big destrier outpaced her mount and constantly pulled ahead of her, forcing her to face the reality of his riding at her side.
Reality was not the most pleasant companion today. Neither was Hall O’Donar.
They’d barely spoken to one another as they’d broken camp this morning, or for the hours they’d spent following Mathew’s trail.
She’d have liked to believe that he carried a lump in his chest to match the one she felt in hers.
The more likely explanation was that he was simply embarrassed for her that she’d expect one bedding would convince him to give up his position and status for the likes of her.
He didn’t need to be. She was embarrassed enough for both of them.
Embarrassed, but not sorry she’d pressed the issue. Even if she could find some way to take back the question she’d asked, she wouldn’t. Though confirming the truth hurt, it was better to put that ridiculous dream to rest than to continue harboring it in her heart. It freed her to concentrate on the task at hand.
Scanning the ground in front of her, she searched for fresh signs of the boy they followed. “Have you seen any—”
“Shh!” Hall held up his hand, tilting his head to the side in the way he did when he listened to those things she couldn’t hear, a small frown wrinkling his brow. “One man, afoot,” he murmured. “Heading toward us.”
“Toward us?” Brie echoed. “Surely that canna be Mathew. But it could be someone who has seen him.”
Hall shook his head, the frown still fixed on his features as he urged his horse to a canter.
Brie matched his speed, pulling her animal to a halt only after they rounded the next hill.
Against all her expectations, ahead of her on the road, walking toward them, was Mathew. The boy spotted them almost immediately and looked around as if trying to choose a path of escape.
“Stay where you are, lad,” Hall called out to him. “I’ve no wish to harm you.”
Mathew lifted the great sword he carried in front of him as they approached, holding it at the ready, his gaze fixed upon Hall. “Keep yer distance, the both of you, and allow me free passage. We’ve all seen what the Dream Guardian can do. I willna hesitate to use her if pressed.”
Brie had no intention of letting Hall anywhere near that blade again.
“What rubbish,” she muttered, urging her horse to gallop ahead of Hall’s so that she might reach Mathew first.
He seemed genuinely surprised when he recognized her. “Bridget! It pleases me greatly to see that you made good yer escape from the laird of Tordenet. No everyone was so lucky, I fear.”
“Put down the weapon, Mathew.” She was in no mood for pleasantries, not with him threatening Hall as he did. “Put it down right now. Dinna make me pull out my bow and beat you about the head with it.”
Hall arrived as she uttered her threat, his glare reflecting his anger.
“I have no idea what this Dream Guardian blether is, but I need that sword you’re holding, boy. And the scrolls you took. We’ve no time to waste.”
Mathew pulled the sword close to his body, tip still pointing toward the sky. “I named her Dream Guardian because, with her at my side, the red-eyed beast canna enter my dreams. You canna have her. She is mine.”
“Red-eyed beast, eh?” Hall exchanged a look with Brie before dismounting and approaching them. “That would be Fenrir. I think you’ve seen his work. He’s a beast of considerable power, and a terrible scourge to release upon this world. The death and destruction he’ll bring will put entire armies to shame. I wouldn’t want that burden of guilt to lie upon my conscience.”
“Nor would I,” Mathew agreed.
As they spoke, Brie shifted her stance, edging herself between Hall and Mathew. All it would take would be one small accident to re-create the precarious situation she’d worked so hard to remedy.
“It was this Beast Fenrir who murdered Hugo,” Hall said.
