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With that, Reina stomped away, though she did not travel far before realizing she knew not where they were headed. Or if indeed they were continuing to walk this eve.

He considered apologizing. After all, she could not help that she was raised in the wrong country. And may indeed not be English at all. But Galien decided against it. Better to have her mad than looking at him as if he would save her. Save them both. When she did that, he wanted to scoop her into his arms and tell her that, while he was alive, no one would hurt her.

Aye, ’twas easier this way. Or it would be if they walked in the right direction.

“There,” he said, pointing to a path to the right of the road. “We go there.”

Without even a look back at him, she was gone. Just in time for the sound he’d been dreading to reach him. A horse, up ahead on the main road. At this time of night? It could only mean one thing.

16

Reina’s knees buckled when she saw it. It was only when Galien came up from behind her, prompting her to keep walking, that she did.

The Wild Boar.

The day before when Galien had nearly tackled her in his haste to be away from the main road after the border reivers that passed them, Reina had begun to think they would never arrive. Surely they would be discovered. Galien had made the decision to keep moving, and Reina did not have to be told their actions were risky.

At times they’d been forced onto the road by thicket too deep or entangled to walk through. Earlier that day, just before sunset, they’d been forced to cross a river whose water rushed “faster than it should,” according to Galien, and certainly faster than the one they’d bathed in.

She’d stumbled and fallen, scraping her palm, descending what Reina described as a mountain but Galien said was nothing of the sort. Reina was hungry, tired, and barely clothed. He’d asked many times if they should stop, but knowing it was possible to reach the inn that eve, Reina had wanted to keep going.

And so they had. Their reward was just ahead.

Suddenly, Galien’s torch, which he’d devised from sticks and barks stuffed with grass and moss, was no longer the sole source of light. Her chest swelled with unshed tears of joy at seeing the wooden shutters tossed open, candlelight illuminating the scene inside.

“Stay here,” he said. “I’d expect less people in the hall at this time of night and would be certain they aren’t your father’s men.”

“Why have I not heard of this place before, being so close to Anbarth?”

Galien looked back at her as he walked toward the inn and its stables. “Its patrons are. . . different.”

With that cryptic statement, he disappeared. Different? Than what, precisely?

He’d explained earlier that the owner of the inn was a good friend of his clan. And that she would provide them shelter, and supplies. But Galien had made no mention of its patrons. How were they different? And would they really find what they needed to continue their journey, or would she and Galien be forced to walk all the way to Scotland?

Alone with her thoughts, Reina tried not to imagine being snatched from behind by one of her father’s men. Finally, Galien returned.

“We go through the back,” he said, leading her around the stables and away from the front door. As they passed, Reina peered into the front window. It was a lively bunch inside, the sound of shouts and laughter following her around the u-shaped building into a small courtyard. From there they climbed a set of stairs and entered through a door on the second level.

“Where did you get that?” she asked when Galien produced a key.

“From Magge, the innkeeper.” He opened the door, looked around the small room and, apparently satisfied, lit a bedside lamp with the candle he’d produced after first entering the inn. She jumped at the knock on the door, but it appeared to be simply a maid.

“Magge bade me bring this to you. And there is another in your room next door.”

With that, the maid was gone.

“Eat,” Galien said. “In the morn we will get you new clothing. Lock the door behind me.” He looked down at the bed. “And enjoy that. It will be a treat, aye?”

With the relief of having arrived at the inn unscathed, her mind barely able to take in all that was happening after an entire day and night of walking, she made her way to the tray. Scooping up the bread, still warm, Reina took a bite and closed her eyes. Never had anything tasted so good to her.

Remembering to answer, she nodded.

“I will leave you to it then. Good night, Reina.”

With that, he left and she did as he instructed. Making quick work of the meal, Reina planned to take off the plaid, and her boots, but instead lay down for just a moment.

When a sharp knock at the door awakened her, Reina sat up, looking around.