“It’s nothing,” Marcus insisted.
“Nothing?” she demanded. She glanced at the man lying in the dirt and then at Marcus. “He could have killed you.”
“But he didn’t,” Marcus said. “We need to leave.”
“But your wounds…”
“Will keep until we are far from here.”
Sage scowled in disapproval. She walked to her horse and opened one of the saddlebags. She returned to him with a piece of linen. “At least stop the bleeding.”
Marcus took the linen from her. Probably a wise decision. He lifted his tunic gingerly, ignoring the stiffness and aches from the blows he had received in his cousin’s care. He inspected the sword wound. It wasn’t bleeding badly.
“Here.” Sage uncorked the ale flask as she walked to him from the horse. She stopped before him and dumped the flask over his cut to clean it.
The cool liquid burned when it hit his open wound, and a hiss escaped his lips. He pressed the linen over the cut. “It will do. We need to leave. Now.” He walked toward his horse.
Sage looked at the dead man again. “He’s not a soldier. Who do you think he was?”
“The last assassin. Ihope,the last one.”
Sage stared down at the dead attacker with worry. “Your cousin will never stop looking for that book.”
“No,” Marcus agreed with a sigh. Perhaps it had been a mistake not to leave the book. But after Guillume’s betrayal, Marcus did not want him to have it. Ever. He put a foot in the stirrup and grabbed the pommel of the saddle to pull himself up.
He realized Sage had not moved. He looked at her.
She stood over the assassin, looking down at him. She had removed the book from her armor and held it in her hand.
“Sage,” he called.
“He’ll never stop looking,” she murmured.
Marcus withdrew his foot from the stirrup and walked to her side. They would always be running... He hated giving her a life like this. “No. He’ll never stop looking—not for the book and not for me.”
Her frown deepened.
“Sage,” he whispered despondently. He wanted to give her more. He wanted to make her happy. “I can lead him away from you. I can—”
She turned to him, the frown on her brow gone. Her eyes were bright. “I have an idea.”
Mischief glittered in her eyes, and curiosity washed away his doubt. For the first time, he had hope. Hope that with Sage in his life, it would be more than he expected. “What idea?”
A smile bubbled on her lips. “Take off your clothes.”
Shocked, Marcus bridled.
