Marcus nodded and followed Sage to the back room door. “Thank you again for your help.”
William’s gaze shifted between Marcus and Sage, echoing Sage’s earlier sentiment. “Be careful.”
Marcus vigilantly navigated the horse through the forest. Every instinct he had was heightened. He listened to the sounds of the forest. He watched for any sudden movements. One assassin left. Trailing them, most likely. Marcus kept to the cover of the trees and brush, moving slowly and then changing pace to a canter as they hurried toward the road. They rode down the road for a while, and then he turned into the forest again for cover. He glanced back at Sage. She was watching, too, scanning the surrounding area. They both knew how dangerous this was.
Marcus hoped they had lost the last assassin. He hoped that having two horses instead of one would throw him off their path. At the very least, he hoped that the assassin had followed them to the blacksmith’s shop in le Carla and was waiting for them there. Or that the assassin had gone back to report to whomever had hired him. But Marcus knew he couldn’t count on that. He had to assume the man was still tracking them, waiting for the right time to attack.
He backtracked, steering the horse the way they had come, hoping to evade the assassin if he was still pursuing them. He steered his horse through the forest, around to the stream he knew from his days as a boy. He would find the cave, which was situated near a pond by the stream. He wanted to rest for the remainder of the day and make certain no one was following them.
Because of the stop in le Carla, he had lost valuable time. Now, instead of an entire day, he only had half of a day before he had to meet his cousin. Guillume would be waiting for him in Les Labadous at noon on the morrow.
They rode until the sun was high in the sky. Marcus knew the cave was close. He concentrated on the surroundings, the rustling of the leaves, the chirping of the birds. Although everything seemed normal, he did not let his guard down.
He rounded a bend and pulled the horse to a stop, signaling Sage to do the same with a lift of his hand. His gaze skimmed the secluded area.
A small pond glistened in the dappled sunlight. Two large, angled rocks formed a shelter. But Marcus was not looking at the relaxing landscape. He was searching the woods for movement, for the assassin.
When he saw no sign of anything out of the ordinary, he dismounted. Sage followed his lead. They walked the horses along the shoreline to the cave.
“What are we doing here?” Sage asked.
“Resting. Making certain we’ve lost the assassin.”
“You want to set a trap for him?” Sage asked.
Marcus turned to her. “No. I want to make sure we are safe before I have to turn over the book.”
Sage nodded and angled her jaw as if in thought. “What would happen if you didn’t give the book to your cousin?”
Truthfully, the thought had never occurred to him. Guillume had asked him to get the book, and he had. “I wouldn’t get my coin.”
Sage hmmed and looked around at the forest and pond. “Is this place safe?”
Marcus shrugged. “I hope so. We’ll still have to keep an eye out.” He led his horse to a tree. “I’ll look around the area. You stay here.”
Sage wrapped the reins of her horse around a tree limb. He was about to depart when she asked him, “Why didn’t you leave me in le Carla?”
Marcus pulled himself up onto his horse. “It wasn’t safe.”
She stared at him with her hand on her hip as if she didn’t believe that was the answer.
“I couldn’t leave you there,” Marcus admitted, hoping he didn’t sound too concerned for her. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. The true reason he couldn’t leave her was that she was involved in this as deep as him, now that the last assassin knew about her.
“Is it because you still want to decipher that book?”
Marcus had to admit that Sage’s comment about directions had intrigued him. But even though he was curious about what was hidden in the book, he would be glad to hand it over to Guillume and get his coin. He wanted to see Rose. And he wanted to be done with this assignment.
He shook his head, reached back, and opened the saddlebag to pull out the book. He stared down at it. It was nothing but a burden to him. He tossed it to her. “Yes,” he lied. “That’s exactly why.”
She caught the book, but her gaze didn’t waver from him. Her eyes narrowed slightly in disbelief. “You’d best be careful. You don’t want me to think you care for me.” Before he could reply, she turned away, opening the book.
Marcus stared at her. No, he didn’t want that. And he certainly didn’t care for her. And yet, as he watched her, a grin slid over his lips. He spurred his horse into the forest to scout for the assassin.
They had been working on the book for over two hours. They sat side by side, but not touching.
Marcus looked at Sage sideways. Her knee was lifted, and she was gazing down at the book, her arm resting on her raised knee. She flicked the feathered quill beneath her nose again and again. She was tenacious. He loved that about her. Loved? The word startled him, and he pushed the thought away, tearing his gaze from her. She was loved by others, but not by him. He admired her, yes. He was intrigued by her, yes. He enjoyed her company, yes. But he knew he would have to let her go. When she was safe. “Where will you go?”
Sage glanced up at him in confusion.
