Paien looked at her with a frown, then led the company from the inn, shepherding Miach out the door as he did so. Morgan walked along behind the group, daring Miach to meet her eyes and admit the truth. Unfortunately, Adhémar seemed determined to monopolize him.
"You re still here?" Adhémar said, sounding less than pleased by those tidings. "I told you to return home."
"You're returning home as well," Miach said calmly. "I'll go with you."
Adhémar glared, but Miach seemed unimpressed. Morgan could understand that for she was not terribly impressed by any of Adhémar's fierce looks, but that didn't answer why they were having this argument in the first place.
"I don't see a horse," Miach continued. "Did you lose yours?"
"I had to sell it to eat," Adhémar grumbled. "I suppose we'll have to find something else. I see you have acquired a pack. How, I wonder, did you do that?"
Miach shrugged. "I picked it up somewhere."
"Speaking of somewhere," Paien said, taking up a position and motioning for them to gather around, "we need to decide upon a destination." He looked at Morgan. "Well?"
Morgan refused to shift uncomfortably. She could not reveal her real destination to the gaggle of loose-lipped idiots surrounding her, her earlier deliberations aside. Perhaps when the time came, she would merely slip off and be about her business, leaving behind a note and a location where they might rejoin forces at a later time.
"Morgan?" Paien prompted.
"North," Morgan said, wrenching her gaze back to him.
"North and east?" Camid said, looking as if he might have a destination or two in mind already. "More east than north? North and a wee bit west? Which is it? "
Perhaps this wouldn't be as easy as she thought. She frowned. "Just north," she said.
"And how will we get there?" Paien asked.
"We'll walk," she said confidently.
He frowned. "On foot?"
"Aye, on foot," she said pointedly. "You know, with your feet. You've done it quite often in the past."
"On foot," Paien repeated said doubtfully. "Well, if you say so."
"I do," she said. "You go first."
Paien shouldered his pack and turned himself around. "North it is, then, lads. Off we go. "
Morgan followed, bringing up the rear only because she preferred to. It gave her a better vantage point for when trouble arose. She also didn't care to be followed, for who knew what someone behind her might be plotting?
She paused in mid-step. When had she become so suspicious?
Likely on the first day she'd entered Gobhann when one of Weger's finest students hadn't ever given her a chance to set her gear down before he'd bellowed a war cry a hand's breadth from her ear. It had not been a good start to that day, but it had been a lesson learned.
She followed. It was more efficient that way.
The day wore on. Morgan was still not at her best, but the walking helped. It also helped her to distract herself by watching the men in front of her as they marched easily on.
Paien and Camid walked together, chatting amicably; no doubt they discussed activities they might engage in on their way north. Morgan suspected Camid already had a list of things to accomplish and she was quite certain many items would involve the odd but very visible job that might burnish his already sterling reputation. Paien would no doubt be happy to get to wherever he thought they were going, do the job, and return to Melksham. He had a family, but most were already wed and off on their own. His wife was used to his long absences, but Morgan knew she missed him. Paien returned home gladly each chance he had. There were times Morgan thought she might envy him.
Glines walked with Fletcher. The boy was watching him with wide eyes so Morgan wondered what the poor lad's head was being filled with. As long as it had something to do with the need to be obedient and quiet, she was all for it.
She looked at the final pair of men and frowned thoughtfully. They were much alike in looks, similar in build, but it was obvious to her even now that they were completely different in temperament. Adhémar was handsome in a showy sort of way, like a demanding horse that needed to be brushed often and exercised twice a day. Morgan imagined him with all manner of bells and frippery on his gear, prancing and displaying for anyone who would watch.
She paused. Well, perhaps Adhémar would draw the line at bells.
She turned a jaundiced eye on Miach. He was quieter than his brother, not nearly so mesmerizing, and likely did not require so much attention. She had the feeling, however, that there was more to him than he let on.
