Neacal hoped the man hurried. He wanted to get going soon, while the weather was still good. He'd glimpsed some dark clouds on the horizon earlier. It wouldn't take long to travel back to Bearach, perhaps half a day.
Though he was not sure what it was, something made him uneasy. Neacal paced, glancing toward the kitchen from time to time. "What the devil is taking him so long? Surely he is not baking more scones."
"'Tis all right. I'm not very hungry," Anna said, then her stomach growled.
Neacal slid her a sideways glance. "Do not tell me fibs, lass. I ken you must be starving." Annoyed, he headed toward the kitchen to see what the holdup was. No one was there.
"Korbin?" Neacal proceeded to the back door, opened it a crack and peered out. Korbin stood at some distance from the tavern, conversing with a younger man. They talked quietly, their heads together.
Neacal's skin prickled. Damnation, they had to leave now. After easing the door closed again, he returned to the common room. "Come. Korbin is acting very strangely. We must leave immediately."
They hastened outside to Neacal's horse, where it stood saddled and waiting for him. Dunn sat beside him, then leapt up, tail wagging, as they approached. "A good morn to you, Dunn."
Glancing up, Neacal saw that the darkest clouds were still at a distance toward the west.
He secured his bedroll to the saddle, along with his bow and arrows and Anna's sack of belongings. He turned to her, ready to lift her onto the pillion cushion when loud footsteps clunking on the cobblestones drew his attention. Three men strode toward him.
The strangers, dressed alike, wore brown breeches, green doublets and sashes of an unusual gold and red plaid. Each man wore a sword and baldric, as well as various daggers and knives sheathed upon their belts. Obviously, they were guards, or henchmen from some clan far from here. Their gazes shifted from him to Anna beside him.
"Dear heavens," she whispered and yanked the cowl more fully over her head.
"'Tis her!" one of the men shouted.
