Willow didn’t feel like that. She had failed at saving the girl’s life.
Sage chuckled softly. “Christian said you were the strongest of all of us.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that I agree with him.”
Willow peeked at her. “He said that?”
Sage nodded. “He was yelling at Marcus at the time, but he said it.” Sage rose. “You’d better tell him to stop picking on Marcus.”
Christian was defending her. Suddenly, she ached to be held in his arms and feel his body’s heat. “I love him.”
“I know,” Sage replied tenderly. She gently kicked Willow’s thigh. “He’s probably worried about you. Come back to camp before he wears a hole in the ground from all his pacing.”
Willow stood.
They had taken two steps side by side when Sage knocked a shoulder against Willow’s. “I’m proud of you,” Sage admitted.
“Why?” Willow asked in shock. Sage had never said that to her before.
“You jumped into water over your head and got out. It took a lot of courage for you to do that. And a little stupidity.”
Willow grinned. “Sometimes it takes stupidity to do something brave.”
“Don’t make a habit of being a hero.”
The man with long hair scratched the jagged scar running down his cheek as he stood behind a gnarled pine. It had been difficult to track the group, and he was afraid he had lost their trail for a while. He had roamed through the forest, trying to find them. And then he heard Sterling’s name hollered through the night air.
He watched Sage and Willow cross the clearing and grinned. His employer would be happy.
Chapter Eight
The warm sun’s rays heated their skinas they pulled their horses to a stop on a low hill overlooking the port city of Saint-Jean-de-Luz. From their vantage point, they could see the wattle and daub shops peppered throughout the city and the sparkling blue waves lapping against the docks.
“There’s a lot of water,” Willow observed.
Christian glanced at her and saw a new strength in her eyes, an unwavering determination that hadn’t been there before. He looked back at the town, and his gaze caught merchants entering the city on wagons full of goods. A farmer departed the city quickly, carrying bread tucked under his arm. A guard on horseback clopped down the street, ushering people out of his way. Could this mean the king’s men were in the town?
His attention drifted to the bay beyond the city. Christian counted three tall ships with their sails billowing in the breeze and numerous smaller vessels bobbing in the water.
“You’re sure your friend is here?” Marcus asked, steadying his steed.
“I can see his ship,” Landyn replied, pointing to the largest ship in the harbor. “TheSally Mae.” He turned toward the group. “I’ll speak with him. You wait here.”
“No.” Raven’s denial was instant. “We shouldn’t split up.”
Landyn glanced at her with tenderness. “A group of six is easily identified. It’s safer if I go alone.”
Raven shook her head.
“I’ll go with him,” Marcus suggested.
Sage turned to him in surprise.
“It makes the most sense,” Marcus explained. “I’m not tied to the Templars. They’re not looking for me. I won’t be recognized.”
Christian knew his reasoning was sound. Three women with swords would stand out. He and Landyn were connected to the Templars, and the king was searching for them. Marcus was the only one whocouldaccompany Landyn.
Sage pressed her lips together, a hard line of disapproval she couldn’t voice. A single nod was all she could manage.
Landyn met Raven’s stare and gave a firm nod. “We’ll be back.” The two trotted their steeds down the dirt road toward the city.
