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“Well, I hope ye hae learned the errors of assuming who people are.” Maxwell tilted his head as he said this. “If ye are any indication, then I’m sure the warriors in yer clan are mighty. I am truly sorry tae hear about yer ma. It would nae be the first person they hae killed.”
“Who are they?” she asked.
Maxwell shrugged. “They’re like the wind. They attack from nowhere, and they disappear just as suddenly. I hae been trying tae find them for a long time, but they remain just out of reach.” He was unable to hide the strain in his voice when he said this. He averted his gaze as he remembered the moment when this had all begun, the moment that had defined his life. Even now, years later, the image of the woman who was to be his wife was etched into his soul. He remembered the way her perfect face looked, the way her body felt so limp in his arms, and the anguish swelled in his heart again.
“I must find them,” she said, and turned to stare into the horizon. She whistled for her horse, which came trotting toward her. Maxwell couldn’t help but be amused and impressed by the tenacity she displayed. She was a true warrior, and given her blonde hair, he wondered if she had Viking blood in her.
“I dinnae know if ye will get far. Did ye nae listen tae anything I said? They disappear like the wind. I’ve tracked them for years, and I hae never got my hands on them.”
“Then perhaps I will succeed where ye hae failed,” she said, and went to leap onto her horse.
Maxwell didn’t want her to do anything risky. He closed the distance between them within a few paces thanks to his impossibly long legs and held on to the horse’s reins. She seemed surprised too that he had managed to come beside her so easily, and by the way she looked at him, he suspected she wasn’t used to looking up at men.
“Lass, ye dinnae want tae gae rushing off after these men, believe me. I hae tried. It does nae work. They hae disappeared. But perhaps I can help. I hae men of my own. Let me come back with ye tae yer clan.”
The woman considered the matter for a few moments and then gave a single shake of the head.
“What’s yer name?” he asked.
“Hilda,” she said. “Hilda Aland Callan.”
“I’m Maxwell Black,” he replied. “It’s a pleasure tae meet ye.”
They shook hands. Although she was not a petite woman, her hand still looked dainty when compared with his. His eyes shone with hope, for he believed with an ally he might be able to make progress against the elusive enemy. Perhaps they could both share in their revenge, and justice would reign over the world once again. It wouldn’t fully alleviate his sorrow. By now, Maxwell had come to understand that nothing would, but at least it would bring him some closure.
