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Brock stepped beside her. “Behind me, my lady.” He held a dagger out to her.
Fia took it. “I will not leave you alone to fight. I stand beside you, Brock.”
Brock could not help being impressed by her courage and proud that she had the courage to fight.
The fire dwindled and the hounds waited when suddenly soulful howls echoed through the forest.
The snarling hounds’ heads shot up, their ears went back, and their snarling stopped, and they began to back away from Fia and Brock. They turned in a rush and ran off whimpering.
Fia dropped the branch to the snow-covered ground, the fire having gone out, and her shoulders sagged in relief.
Brock lowered his sword, his shoulders sagging as well. “We must not wait, my lady. We must make our way back to the castle and hopefully meet up on the way with those who search for us.”
Fia nodded, wanting nothing more than to return to the safety of the castle and her husband’s arms. The thought was not lost to her that she wished for the protection of her husband’s snug embrace, and it made her wonder once again how deeply she cared for her husband.
“Follow behind me,” Brock ordered but had no chance to step in front of her.
Four growling, white hounds, their eyes blazing red emerged from the woods blocking their path.
Argue with Death.
Fia heard the voice clearly in her head, reminding her of what her grandmother had done… argued with Death. Besides, they had no other recourse.
Fia took quick steps forward, shaking the dagger clutched in her hand at the hounds. “Death will not take us! We will not surrender! He cannot have us! We refuse him! Begone with you and take my command to Arawn! NOW!”
The hounds stopped growling and slunk back into the forest never taking their eyes off Fia.
She gasped lightly, amazed the hounds did not attack them. Her head shot up when she heard Sinead’s cry and she hurried to stretch out her arm and wrap part of her cloak around it as the hawk glided down toward her. She landed with grace to perch on Fia’s arm, and Fia could have sworn the bird nodded at her as if letting her know she had done well.
When she turned, it was to face a shocked and pale Brock.
“You commanded the hounds from hell. You are a powerful witch,” Brock said in awe.
It was not something Fia wanted to hear.
The sounds of horses’ hooves pounding the earth broke the uneasy moment as did Sinead’s squawk.
Fia was ever so relieved to see her husband lead his warriors past the numerous clusters of trees, some branches heavy with snow, toward her and Brock.
As warrior after warrior circled them, Brock shouted, “Lady Fia commanded the hounds from hell, sent them slinking away, and saved us! She is a powerful witch!”
CHAPTER15
Fia saw the anger swirling in his blue eyes and felt the sting of it when he settled her on his horse in front of him. He issued orders and left Argus to deal with them and said not a word to her as they rode toward home.
She was still growing accustomed to her husband, still learning to trust him, and not be intimidated by him, not an easy task. He was a compelling and a complicated man, a challenge to be sure.
She hoped an apology might ease his anger. After all, she should not have been so foolish to believe Brother Luke.
Tilting her head to the side to look up at him, she spoke, and her words surprised her. “I missed you.”
He had never heard those words from a woman or felt the strange sensation that came with them, nor did he understand it.
Annoyed, he admonished, “You were foolish!”
“Aye, most definitely,” she agreed. “My only thought was for the injured warrior when my first thought should have questioned the validity of what Brother Luke told me. I am truly sorry.”
As the anger in his eyes dissipated, she was surprised to see they revealed concern. He had been worried about her, but she knew he would never admit it.
