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At Quinlan’s direction, she and Lorelei fell into line just in front of the medic unit.
Henry, she knew, would bring up the rear, forever on guard.
* * * * * * * * *
Quinlan followed behind Batya, watching her long, thick hair sway as she walked. She had a strong, elegant stride and kept up with the troops like she’d been made for camp life. Both women seemed oddly fit for this journey, another thought that kept him in a state of turmoil.
He wished Batya was a weak-spirited person so he could despise her, or maybe just plain stupid so he wouldn’t respect her as much as he did. As it was, her character forced him continually into a state of frustration because, damnit, he liked her.
A lot.
And his thoughts kept drifting into the future, decades ahead of this moment in time. He had grandchildren clustered around him, a lot of them, or maybe they were great-grandchildren and he was Papa Quinlan to all of them.
The image made him gag. What the f**k was wrong with him?
Batya turned back and grinned. “Stub your toe again because I’m sure hearing a lot of cursing behind me.”
He grimaced. “You just turn around and watch where you’re going.”
She chuckled and shook her head, then caught up with Lorelei. The women chatted more often than not. They’d been friends for two years. Each kept looking around at the river, the vaulted ceiling of the massive cave system, realm-made stacks of rocks indicating that at some point in time their ancient forebears had also been here.
He marveled as well that he marched through the Great River Caverns of Pickerne, a fabled underground river system that had until now belonged only to stories told to children.
The river and cave took many twists and turns. Though the ceiling sometimes crept lower, it never narrowed to an impassable point, not once.
After being on the march for several hours, a black expanse at the horizon began to grow and eventually filled with stars.
Batya dropped back to join him, walking beside him. “We’ve reached the meadow, haven’t we?”
“Looks like it.”
“This is wonderful.” She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ve just made it through the second leg of the journey. But how sure are we that Margetta won’t find us?”
“It’s unlikely even though Gem Meadow was never part of the enthralled section. Henry and his troops have run maneuvers here many times, which is why there are several permanent tent structures. But Margetta will have no idea where we went and covering hundreds of square miles, even for her, and especially through mountainous terrain, will be extremely difficult. However, Henry will keep scouts in the sky the rest of the night and through the day. We’re in good hands.”
A few more steps and he walked out of the cavern for good. He breathed in the grass-scented air and watched as the brigade immediately began setting up camp.
“There are three large tents.” He waved his hand in the direction of each. “One down river to the left and two higher up the feeder stream.” Turning to Lorelei, he asked, “Which one would you like? You should have first choice.”
Her gaze shifted to each one in turn, then chose the one highest up on the stream, the farthest point east.
Batya touched his arm. “Henry has the map. I think he’s setting up a table in the middle tent.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Wow,” Batya murmured.
“What?”
“Well, I’m amazed at the order and industry of your brigade. Some of your men are already bringing back kindling and logs from the nearby forest.”
“Fires are important in any woodland setting, for cooking and for security.”
She watched several take a different track. “Where are they off to?”
“We’ll be dining on venison tonight. You’ll see.”
Two trolls, laden with packs, approached Quinlan. “Mastyr, we’ve been told to set you up down river, near where the stream joins the river.”
“Yes, that will do.”
The trolls headed toward the open-air tent.
“Wait, what are they carrying?”
“A couple of furs, some padding. Pillows.”
Batya drew close and asked quietly. “Will Lorelei’s tent be as nicely appointed?”
He nodded.
“And you arranged all this for our comfort?”
“Of course.”
Lorelei offered her hand. “I want to thank you, mastyr, for all you’ve done for me. You’ve been incredibly kind.”
But before he could take her hand, Batya stepped between Lorelei and Quinlan. She stared at the proffered fingers until Lorelei withdrew the simple, if very human gesture.
Lorelei chuckled. “Batya, you’re much more than you know you are right now. Have a care.” She then wheeled in the direction of her tent. When she’d walked ten feet away, she called out over her shoulder. “See you at dinner.”
Quinlan stepped around Batya and saw the look of astonishment on her lovely features. She blinked several times before lifting her gaze to Quinlan. “Did you see what I just did?”
“Not quite as simple as you thought, is it, this thing between us.”
“But why did I do that? I mean, I really trust Lorelei. That was just rude. I’ve got to apologize to her.” She turned as if to move away, but he caught her elbow.
“She already knows and right now I need you.”
Her gaze shot back to his and her hand went to her throat. “Your stomach is cramping, isn’t it? I can feel it now.” She glanced past him, down river. “The Guards have finished with the tent. We can be private in there.”
Chapter Six
Batya walked beside Quinlan, surprised yet not, that he took hold of her hand. Whatever this was between them, seemed completely mutual and just as incomprehensible.
Earlier, he had blocked her from offering a vein to save Henry’s life and just now, she would have clawed Lorelei to pieces if she’d touched Quinlan.
Neither spoke.
She remembered her father’s word about ‘embracing the mystery’, but she swore if he were here right now and said the same thing to her, she’d punch his lights out. She felt controlled by things way beyond her understanding and Quinlan also resented this similar experience invading his world.
“You’ve grown very quiet.” He squeezed her hand. “Not a good thing.”
“I’m not a quiet person, am I?”
“No, not even a little.” He smiled. “You have a wonderful laugh, almost boisterous and you voice your opinions freely.”
