It was the first non-belligerent statement Ewan had made. Cam lowered his guard a little.
“Ye canna come tae know a man all in one day,” he said. “It takes time. Ye know I was a smithy. Ye know I was born in Netherton. Ye know I trained for a time at The Cal.”
“Did ye train at The Cal because of what happened tae Netherton?”
Cam knew it would do no good to deny it. “Aye.”
Ewan opened his mouth but Niall caught his attention, shaking his head to ward off yet another question. Satisfied, atleast for the moment, Ewan settled down and finished off his meal along with the rest of them.
After that, the meal wasn’t quite so tense. Cam seemed more relaxed but when Niall cornered the innkeeper and secured two rooms for the night, Cam simply went over to the enormous hearth and lay down next to it, using his belongings as a pillow and his cloak as a coverlet.
“Are ye not going tae sleep with the men?”
Cam peeped an eye open to see Isadora standing over him. “Nay,” he said. “I’ve slept alongside them for three nights and they snore loudly enough tae wake the dead. Sleeping in the common room will be a relief.”
He closed his eye again and heard her walk away, but when he was certain she was gone, he cracked an eye open to watch her. As she turned for the stairs that led to the upper floor, he was sorry she had to go. But with her father and brothers around, it was for the best.
Still… he missed her.
Lulled by a full belly and the warmth of the hearth, Cam quickly drifted off to sleep.
*
It was thatdream again.
Screaming…
Fire…
Heart pounding, Cam found himself running again. He was back in Netherton, running toward the sounds of screams.
Fear filled him. His heart was beating faster. Those piles of ashes were in his way again, bodies that had become dust. The road was stretching out before him and the faster he ran, the longer the road became.
He could see his small cottage in the distance, but it didn’t look as he remembered it. The walls were running red with blood. Suddenly, he was in front of it, rushing toward the door only to see something lying in the dirt several feet away. He lost his balance and pitched onto the ground.
On his hands and knees, he crawled toward the lifeless figure, half covered in clumps of earth because the garden all around it had been torn up. He clawed his way toward the body in the dirt. This time, however, he could actually touch it and he reached out, grasping at the hands that disintegrated when he touched them. He tried to touch his grandfather’s face, too, but that collapsed until it was nothing but compost.
Everything gone, swallowed up by the earth. Everything lifeless and still.
Until a bony hand reached through the dirt and grabbed him.
In a panic, Cam awoke.
He was sitting upright in front of the fire in a darkened common room, surrounded by two dozen sleeping strangers, hearing the gasps and snores of the weary. It took him a moment to realize it had only been a dream.
That same dream he’d not had in months, not since he’d gone to the Ludus Caledonia. But now, it was back. With a shaking hand, he wiped his face, realizing that he was sweating.
“Are ye well?”
A soft, female voice came from his right and he looked up to see Isadora seated at the table next to him. She was covered with a woolen blanket, her feet propped up on another chair.
He frowned.
“What are ye doing here?” he asked quietly. “If yer father finds ye here…”
“He’s dead asleep.”
“It’s not safe, Is.”
