"Have a care," she whispered.
"Aye." He proceeded through the door and outside, halting a short distance away to listen. And then he heard it, a howling wolf and several animals running through the rustling leaves of the forest.
"Damnable wolves," he muttered. They should fear coming near his torch. He'd much prefer to frighten them off instead of killing them. They'd probably caught scent of the roasted rabbit he and Calla had eaten earlier. Either that or the horse. A whole pack of wolves could take down a horse.
He squinted, glimpsing eye-shine in the depth of the wood. Bastards. He emitted a screeching growl and waved the torch about, hoping to frighten them away.
But they lingered within the wood, whining amongst themselves. The eye-shine moving this way and that as they watched him.
"Leave off, you bastards!" he yelled in the meanest voice he could muster.
Devil snorted and pawed the ground. Was he raring for a fight?
A high-pitched scream split the night air behind him.Calla!
He raced back to the stone structure. "Calla?"
At the door she crashed into him. "It's in here… one of them."
Chapter Eight
A wolf was inside the ruin where they'd been sleeping?
"'Slud! Where?" Rebbie aimed the pistol, his eyes searching the darkness beyond the firelight.
"I know not," Calla said, her whisper ragged. "I heard it. Panting and—and running." She grabbed onto his arm, her hand trembling. Firelight from his torch glinted off a wee knife in her hand. Where had she gotten that? No matter. She couldn't kill a wolf with such a small blade without being seriously injured.
The animal must've come in one of the other doors or windows. 'Twouldbe easy enough since none were blocked.
"Stay behind me," he said.
She did, holding onto his plaid and doublet at his back.
Outside, Devil went wild again, neighing and snorting, his hooves striking the ground and the rocks. A wolf's high-pitched whine-bark was so close it made the hair on the back ofRebbie'sneck stand on end.
"Get him, Devil!" Rebbie commanded. The horse was trained for war and knew when to attack an enemy.
Havoc ensued. More horse screams and wolf barks and so much kicking and thumping Rebbie thought Devil must have trampled them all.
"Rebbie!" Calla pointed past him.
He switched his gaze to the room just as two greenish glowing eyes charged out of the darkness, a black form darting by the fire-pit, ready to leap on his chest. Aiming the pistol, he squeezed the trigger and gunfire exploded, blinding him for an instant. A yelp sounded. Thick smoke filled the air, near suffocating him. Calla coughed behind him.
Once the smoke cleared and his eyes adjusted from the powder flash, he saw the dark gray form lying upon the floor.
"Oh dear Lord," Calla whispered.
"I got him." Saints, he'd never killed a wolf before. Never had one try to attack him either. "Are you well?" he asked her.
"Aye."
Taking his makeshift torch, he stepped closer to the beast. It didn't move and he could detect no breathing. After laying his gun down, he picked up his sword.
"I have to see if Devil's injured." Turning, he eyed Calla and her terrified expression as she stared at the dead wolf. "'Tisall right now, lass," he said in a calming tone. "Come. Wait in the doorway. And be careful with that knife."
She nodded.
Taking the torch, he moved outside.
