He forced himself to concentrate on their road. They were passing into sparsely populated country characterized by peat bogs and wind-blasted grasses. There was not a tree in sight and the breeze picked up, hissing across the sparse ground like a vengeful spirit.
They rode straight into the belly of the evening with just the whine of the wind and the soft trotting of hooves on hardy soil breaking the hallowed silence. This far north the sun set late at this time of year and Emeric knew they had plenty of time to get where they were going and back again. As long as the weather held out.
He could feel a change in the air and, inhaling deeply, Emeric tasted the tangy promise of impending rain on his tongue. Dark clouds were gathering along the horizon, heavy with their burden.
“That does not look good,” Anna observed. “I don’t suppose you thought to bring an umbrella?”
“Sorry, no. I left my what was it?—Umbrella?—at home. We’ll just have to pick up the pace andhope we outrun the rain.”
He pushed Plover into a gallop and Anna squeaked in alarm, clinging to the saddle for all she was worth. Emeric took the reins into his right hand and put the other around Anna’s waist to hold her steady. He was pleased when she didn’t complain but merely settled back against him.
Anyone watching would think them just a couple out for a ride, just a man and his woman enjoying the evening. Oh, how he wished that were true. How he wished Anna was his.
But she wasnothis. He must never forget that. She was from another time and eager to get back to it. And him? He was eager to leave too, to get back to his sword-brothers and the life he’d chosen. Wasn’t he?
The miles disappeared under Plover’s hooves and the sun was nearing the horizon, the sky behind them turning black with storm clouds by the time they crossed a broad bridge over the river and reached Malrey. It was a prosperous settlement nestled along the riverbank, the lowering sun casting long shadows across the weather-beaten stones of the cottages that lined the bank.
Emeric pulled the horse to a halt and looked around. Something swirled inside him, something dark and cold and unforgiving. His earlier good mood evaporated at the sight of the settlement and apprehension replaced it. Apprehension and that tight, all too familiar sensation of anger.
He reached into the saddlebags, pulled out two plaids and handed one to Anna. “Put this on.”
She took it. “Why?”
“Because we are in MacDonald territory now and need to look like MacDonalds.”
“But I thought they were your allies.”
He snorted. “And ye saw today how shaky that alliance is. If the militia mark us as Mackintosh there’s no telling what their reaction might be.”
Anna swallowed then shook out the plaid and draped it over her shoulders, pinning it there with the brass brooch provided. It was too big for her but he hoped nobody would look too closely.
She glanced at the settlement. “So what now?”
“Now, we ride in and act like we belong,” Emeric replied, his voice low and gruff. He threw a glance at the sky, the storm clouds growing darker still.
Taking up the reins, he nudged Plover into motion and they began their descent towards Malrey. The smell of damp earth and impending rain filled the air as they moved closer. A woman laden with a basket full of freshly baked bread crossed their path, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she regarded them. Emeric felt tension coil inside him but he forced himself to keep a steady gaze, not meeting her eye.
The village square bustled with activity. Children played tag between wooden carts filled with goods while men gathered around the local blacksmith’s shop. Somewhere a dog barked while chickens pecked at the ground heedless of the gathering storm. It looked like any other prosperous Highland settlement.
Keeping his arm firmly around Anna, Emeric rode through the square, trying to blend in among the villagers who cast curious glances their way, but nobody accosted them. The road led out the other side of the village and along the riverbank until another house came into view. This waslarger than the rest, attached to a mill right at the water’s edge. A gently turning water-wheel sat in a mill-race that led off from the main river channel.
Emeric’s stomach tightened at the sight of it and he hadn’t realized he’d pulled the horse to a halt and was sitting staring until Anna said, “Emeric? What are you doing?”
“We walk from here.”
He swung down from the saddle and then helped Anna dismount. She slithered ungracefully down but he caught her and set her on her feet.
“Damn,” she muttered, glaring at the saddle and rubbing her behind. “My backside isnothappy right now.”
Emeric didn’t respond. His eyes were still trained on the mill. “This way.”
He led the horse off the path and began climbing the hill that rose behind the mill. Stands of trees provided the perfect cover and it was to one of these that Emeric led them.
Anna followed in silence but he could tell that she was puzzled by his caution. They reached a hazel thicket through which they could see the whole of the mill compound spread out at the base of the hill. Emeric tied Plover to a stout branch and led Anna to the edge of the thicket where he hunkered down, watching the mill below.
Anna seated herself in the grass by his side, a quizzical expression on her face. “What are we doing here?”
Emeric did not take his eyes off the mill. “Watch.”
