Page 55 of Blood & Claw

Wiping saliva off her chin, and relieved he hadn’t seen her drooling, she then rubbed at her gritty eyes. She didn’t know how long they’d been riding, or how far, but Dale was right; she needed to pull herself together. “Where are we?” she asked, her voice croaky.

“The village of Rhu,” Dale replied, throwing a leg over Rùn’s withers and sliding to the ground. He’d pulled his horse up in front of a long, low-slung building. Windowless and thatched, it had the look of an ale-hall. “And I’d wager our friends have already arrived.”

Ailsa tensed, the last of her drowsiness vanishing. “Aye?”

She dropped to the ground, wincing as her feet slammed into the hard dirt. The sun was low now, playing hide-and-seek with the clouds that raced across the sky. A cold, gusting wind had gotten up. The Sweeper.

“Aye.” Dale’s voice held a tight edge. “It’s Gateway … and they won’t make the next village before dark.”

Ailsa nodded. That made sense. Only a fool would travel after nightfall tonight. Every Gateway, she and Kayla locked themselves inside their roundhouse and built the fire up in the hearth before sprinkling salt around it and the doorways.

Glancing over at the ale-hall’s oaken door, she pulled up her hood. “We’ll need to watch ourselves then,” she murmured. “Since they know they’re being followed.”

“We will,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s stable Rùn … their horses should already be there.”

“And after that?”

“I find out where Kayla is.”

“I want to help.”

Dale shook his head. “They’ve seen your face, so you stay out of the ale-hall. I’ll get us a room, and you’ll hide there while I pick them off.”

Ailsa cut him a sharp look. “Pick them off?”

“Aye. There are six of them … five now … and one of me … I’d rather not fight them all at once.”

She pulled a face, taking his point. He’d been adamant that their assailant the night before was one of Kayla’s captors. As she followed him under the stone arch behind the ale-hall, she wondered if he was right. The stables beyond faced the lodgings. Wind whipped straw across the yard.

However, when she saw there was only a tired-looking plow pony stabled, Ailsa’s belly dropped. Reaching out, she gripped hold of Dale’s arm, her fingernails digging into his bare skin. “They’re not here.”

Growling a curse, he swept his gaze over the yard. “They must have found lodgings somewhere else in the village.” Extricating himself from her grip, he tossed her the reins. “See to Rùn; I’m going hunting.”

Ailsa rounded on him. “Not without me, you aren’t.”

He cut her a hard look. “No. It’s better if I go alone. Rub Rùn down and keep an eye out for trouble … and if they turn up, hide.”

With that, he walked off.

Ailsa watched him disappear under the arch, anger pulsing in her chest.

It wasn’t the same sensation that had swept her up the day before though, when the thief had tried to grab her purse. Strangely, although Dale vexed her at every turn, her reaction toward him felt … normal. And justified.

Even so, the man’s manner chafed. Lips compressed, she led Rùn into a stall. After a bit of fumbling, for she didn’t know what she was doing, she managed to remove the saddle and bridle. The stallion was remarkably patient with her.

By the time Dale reappeared, she’d just finished rubbing Rùn down with a twist of straw.

One look at the mercenary’s deep scowl, and she froze.

“They’re not in Rhu.”

“What?” Throwing aside the straw, she ducked under the stallion’s neck and stalked up to her bodyguard. “You said they’d be here.”

“I was sure they would be.”

Ailsa stopped in front of him and placed her hands on her hips. “But it’s Gateway!”

“Aye.” His face twisted. “Seems they’d rather deal with the Slew and Gods-know what else than lose time.”