Page 39 of Blood & Claw

A wolf’s-head banner fluttered in the breeze. The High Queen’s crest.

Darach’s gaze lingered on it. In truth, he was torn. As a proud Southlander, he didn’t like to see his people lose. And yet, part of him rejoiced. Queen Lara would reunite her kingdoms one day, and Albia would be stronger for it.

“Do you have an iron penny to spare?” A woman—hollow-cheeked and wild-eyed, a bairn swaddled at her chest, and a scrawny waif of a lass clinging to her skirts—approached. “Just enough for a loaf of bread. Please.”

Before Darach could reply, he felt movement behind him. A slender hand reached down then, a copper penny gleaming on her palm. “Here,” Ailsa said huskily. “Get your bairns a proper meal.”

The woman’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected such a generous offering.

Darach’s lips compressed. Neither had he.

“Hold on to your coin, Ailsa,” he said gruffly as they rode on. “You might need it.”

She snorted. “What for? Are you planning to pay those men off?”

He didn’t reply. Gods, the woman got on his nerves.

They stopped halfway down the street, and Darach dismounted.

He glanced around, marking the crowd of villagers milling about. Men and women muttered together. He didn’t much like the looks some of them were giving him, or the way a few of the men fingered the axes and hoes they held.

Aye, something was wrong here.

He’d find out what.

Crossing the dirt street, Darach went to a stall selling fresh bread. There hadn’t been any time the evening before to stock up on food, so he’d do so now. The baker was surly and tried to overcharge him for his two loaves of oaten bread. Haggling done, Darach moved on to a cheesemonger’s and bought a large slab of hard goat cheese from a gaunt-faced woman.

“Looks like you’ve had some trouble here?” he said casually.

Her blue eyes narrowed, and she raked a gaze over him. “We did … last night.”

“What happened?”

Her lips pursed, and she hesitated, glancing around her. Then, with a sigh, she replied, “A group of men arrived late last night.” She wrapped up his cheese, her movements short and sharp now. “They took lodgings at the ale-hall. There was a woman with them, and Hume … one of the stable lads … noticed her wrists were bound. He tried to free her.” Her eyes glittered. “Her companions killed him for it.”

“Where are they now?”

“Gone.” She bit out the word. “A group of locals fetched weapons and went after them … but they’d already fled into the darkness.”

Darach kept his face neutral, even as his breathing quickened. Shit.

Digging into his coin purse, he pulled out an iron penny and pressed it into the woman’s hand. However, she was watching him closely now. “Why are you so interested in those men?”

“The woman they have is a friend of mine.”

“You’re hunting them then?”

He nodded.

“They made a mess of Hume,” she said, her voice roughening. “Make sure you make the bastards bleed for it.”

Darach favored her with a thin smile. “I intend to.”

And if they’d harmed Kayla, bleeding would be the least of it.

Turning on his heel, he strode back to where Ailsa waited with Rùn.

She looked tense standing there, eying the milling crowd. Like him, she’d noticed their unfriendly stares. Cleghorn didn’t welcome strangers at present. However, as he approached, her gaze snapped to him. “Find out anything useful?” she asked as he stepped up to the stallion’s side.