Relieved beyond measure, Isabail clasped Ana’s hand. “Thank you. You will not regret this.”
Ana snorted. “I already regret this.”
Isabail smiled and helped the healer pack her satchel. She lifted a few earthenware jugs and studied them. “Can any of these put a guard to sleep?”
* * *
After the guards at the entrance consumed their ale and drifted off to sleep, Isabail led the horses quietly to the entrance and joined Ana. To lessen the noise as they descended the rocky slope, she had wrapped linen strips around their hooves. The strips would soon come loose, but so long as they made it to the forest without alerting the other guards, she would be happy.
Isabail was about to drag herself into the saddle when Gorm appeared at her side. The huge gray dog nuzzled her skirts and thenwoofed softly.
“Hush,” she said in a sharp whisper. She glanced around to see if the noise had attracted any attention, but nothing moved in the darkness. “Go back,” she ordered the dog, pointing up the rocky slope.
Gorm just stared at her and gave a slow wag of his tail.
“Why not bring him with us?” Ana asked.
“He’s still weak from his injuries.”
“If he’s half as stubborn as you, that won’t slow him down,” the healer said dryly.
“I feel fine.”
“Of course you do. And even if you didn’t, you would never admit it. Bring the dog.”
Isabail shrugged. “I suppose he might provide a bit of extra protection. He can be quite alarming when he growls.” She mounted, feeling the strain in her gut but refusing to acknowledge it. “Let’s be off.”
* * *
Magnus awoke with a start, rolling from his pallet and instinctively grabbing for the sword lying next to him on the floor. But there was no sword. Because he was no longer a warrior. He stood, silent and still, wondering what had roused him.
Morag slept on the other side of the bed, her dreams as yet undisturbed.
Then he heard it, the soft jingle of horses’ bridles coming from the yard outside the bothy. Morag did not own a horse, so the sound sent a tingle of awareness down his spine.
He reached down and gently prodded Morag.
“Someone is outside,” he whispered.
She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide.
Magnus snatched up a dirk from the tabletop. There were no windows in the bothy, so he slipped to the door and, ever so carefully, cracked it open. His view was limited. All he could see was a riderless horse standing in the yard. Dawn was still an hour away, and the darkness was deep and heavy.
Morag pushed him out of the way and opened the door wide. “Who goes there?” she demanded.
A blond woman stepped around the flank of the horse. Slight of body and holding a hand to her side, she did not pose much of a threat. “Our sincere pardons, mistress. We did not mean to wake you. We simply hoped to partake of your water and then be on our way.”
“We? Who do you travel with?” Morag asked, looking about.
A second horse walked forward from the shadowed trees. Another woman, judging by the slender shape in the saddle. Two women traveling alone in the dark. If ever there was a call for trouble, this was it. Magnus shook his head.
“Why do you hold your side?” Morag demanded in her usual forthright manner. “Are you injured?”
The blond woman dropped her hand and stood a little straighter. “Just a wee bit sore. May we fill our oilskins in your rain barrel?”
“Just tell me who you are and what you are doing in these woods at this hour of the night,” Morag said crisply. Although she wore only her shift and a woolen shawl, she stood tall and spoke with firm authority.
Magnus had a crazy desire to kiss her.
