He turned his head to the side defiantly. “I don’t know. Free me and—”
Raven bent and seized his cheeks between her fingers. “Is he in Prat du Juge?” she demanded.
“Aye! Aye!”
She released him and straightened. Her jaw clenched tight.
“Now release me. Ya promised, Templar! Ya promised,” the man begged. “What if Boucher kills ya? Then I’m stuck here.”
Raven lifted the gag back into place over his mouth. “Pray he doesn’t.”
The moon was beginning to rise as they rode their horses to the inn. When the two-story wattle and daub building came into sight, they dismounted. Raven tied the reins of Landyn’s horse to Thunder and slapped Thunder’s rear. Her horse led Landyn’s steed away toward a grassy area.
Raven stood at Landyn’s side, gazing at the inn. Her insides clenched tight with concern.
“Are you well?” Landyn asked.
“I’m worried about the innkeeper,” Raven said. She and her family had stopped here a handful of times. Rolf the innkeeper, his wife, and his boy were always kind and accommodating to her family. Rolf was an old warrior, and she liked him. He had married, settled here, and opened the inn.
She glanced at Landyn.
He nodded and shifted his gaze to the two-story wooden building. His jaw tensed, and his eyes fixated on the inn before he glanced at her. “I would prefer you wait here, but I know you won’t.”
She grinned. “No, I won’t. You know I don’t like being left alone.”
“If anything happens—”
“Nothing will happen,” she promised, yet trepidation swirled inside her. It was the type of unease that uncertain situations elicited in her.
His dark eyes swept her face in apprehension.
“You are stronger than you were,” she comforted, needing to alleviate his fears as well as her own. “You have nothing to fear from him.”
He turned to her and cupped her cheek. “Don’t listen to anything he says. It’s all lies.”
She nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll give you the first attempt at killing him. After that, it’s my turn.”
He chuckled softly and lowered his lips to hers in a soft, gentle kiss.
His kiss was moist and warm on her lips, sparking a wave of yearning.
“I’ve never meant anyone like you,” he whispered as he pulled away.
The kiss worried her. It felt like a goodbye kiss.
Landyn turned toward the inn and took a deep, cleansing breath. His entire demeanor changed. He straightened to his full height. His chin lowered and his lips curled. He became a warrior. A fighter.
As they approached the inn, Raven noticed three horses tied to a post at the back of the inn. Three horses? Had Boucher taken two men this time, or was the other horse from a traveler?
Landyn walked up to the door and eased it open, entering the main room. He stepped quietly into the room. Raven followed.
A dying fire in the hearth cast a red glow over the darkened area. Two wooden tables were in the center. Three mugs rested atop one of them. At this table, a man sat with his head on his arms. He wore a sword belted around his waist and a black tunic. One of Boucher’s men.
Raven’s gaze searched the rest of the room as Landyn walked up to the man. Another door was at the back, and a stairway led to the upper floor. She scanned the stairway with her eyes, but it was empty. The inn was silent. Too quiet. Her hand dropped to the pommel of her sword. Had they come in time to save Rolf and his family, or were they too late?
Landyn edged behind the man. He locked eyes with Raven and nodded.
“Rolf?” she called.
