He only hesitated for an instant. “A soldier.”
That wasn’t the whole story, of course. Freya knew that at once, even without his eyes shifting guiltily away from her. She felt a flare of disappointment that he wasn’t willing to share his secrets with her yet, but remembered what the Abbess had said about the matter.
I’m patient. I can be patient.
“It’s all right,” she heard herself say, pressing a kiss to the curve of skin and muscle where his shoulder met his chest. “Ye don’t have to tell me anything yet. But whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not so bad.”
He smiled affectionately down at her, smoothing his hand over the crown of her head.
“Ye always like to see the best in people, Freya. Has anyone ever told you that?”
She was momentarily taken aback.
“No, actually. Nobody’s ever told me that.”
He held her gaze for a moment, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.
“The truth is,” he said slowly. “The truthis, Freya, that I?—”
He was interrupted by a flurry of barking from Argentum, who had deigned to leave them alone and sleep undisturbed by the dying fire. He was on his feet now, aimed towards the door, hackles raised and tail down. Glancing back at them, he barked once more.
Come and look,Freya fancied he was saying.Quickly!
“Someone’s coming,” Brendan muttered, the lazy affection disappearing from his gaze, replaced by grim urgency. “We should get dressed, Freya. Quickly.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. They both stumbled out of bed, Brendan wincing as the movement tugged on his sore abdomen, pulling on the clothes they’d so carelessly abandoned an hour or so earlier.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
Argentum kept barking, prancing around by the door, wanting to be let out. Once she had her shift on and her boots—she was hardly dressed, but felt a little better than being in her skin—Freya edged closer to the window, peering out.
“Freya, don’t,” Brendan warned. “Get back from the window. Don’t let them see ye.”
“Them? Who do ye think it could be?”
There was only one answer, surely. The Grahame soldiers from before, of course. They were either on her trail or Brendan’s, perhaps both.
Brendan didn’t answer. He only shook his head, pulling a shirt over his head and yanking on his boots.
“Are we going to run?” she asked, pitching her voice over the incessant yap of Argentum’s barking. “We can hide in the forest.”
“They’ll wait for us here. Wait for me, rather. Stupid, stupid!” Brendan muttered the last part to himself, lips pressed tight. “I told myself I had to be ready to drop everything, to leave anything behind, and yet here I am, unable to leave. What did I think would happen?”
She crossed the room, taking him by the shoulders and giving him a firm shake.
“You’re scaring me now, Brendan. What is going on? What aren’t ye telling me?”
He pulled away. “There’s no time. Quick, run and hide in the barn. I’ll meet ye there, and we’ll saddle up a pair of horses. I’m tired of hiding. Ye are right; we’d best run. Give me a moment to collect some things. Go, go!”
It didn’t feel as if there were any time to argue. Snatching up her cloak—still wet from the previous night—Freya threw open the door. Argentum pushed past her legs, racing forward, barking at the still-unseen enemy.
Not unheard, though. Freya could hear hoofbeats echoing through the forest.
“Argentum!” she hissed, making a lunge to grab him, but the dog sidled away, gaze fixed forward.
There was no time to coax him away to safety. Biting out a curse, Freya hurried into the barn. Inside, the animals were clearly unsettled, snorting and tossing their heads, straw crunching under restless hooves. She turned to the door, holding it open just a crack, in time to see Brendan striding out of the house.
“Hurry up, man,” she whispered. “They’ll be here any moment.”
