Page 72 of Silverbow
“I will strangle you if you try,” Oryn huffed.
Bade’s brows rose. “So she is or she isn’t just another a bounty, Brydove? Is there a reason we galloped west as if chased by Solignis himself?”
Oryn glared back. He hadn’t worked out what she was other than important to the gods. He still had the feeling Colm knew more than he let on, but he didn’t press the man. Colm was particular about what he did and did not share. Mortals and immortals alike were susceptible to his gift and what the girl feared about his ability to root around in their heads was entirely valid. He wouldn’t of course, but if he had stumbled on something by accident or in the World of Dreams, he would keep it to himself unless it was absolutely necessary.
She crossed the camp with a bundle in her arms, darting nervous looks over her shoulder to where they sat.
“The gods have an interest in her, and if you so much as turn your head that way, fire wielder, I will break your neck,” he snarled. The warning was unnecessary.Irritating as he was, Aiden was a man of Eastwood. He knew better, even if he’d never spent a day in Eastwood in his life.
He held up his hands defensively. “A man should get a little reward for almost losing an arm, is all I’m saying.”
Oryn rolled his eyes. He’d healed Aiden’s arm in Trowbridge. He had not almost lost it, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue.
“If you weren’t such a bloody fool, you wouldn’t have almost lost an arm,” Bade bit back. “Howdidyou manage that?”
Aiden sighed. “We can’t all be blademasters, Bade. It would rather diminish the mark.”
He snorted and crossed his arms. “You’ve been swinging a sword longer than all those boys combined.”
“Hardly,” Aiden said dryly. “I’m notancient.”
“Old enough to know better,” Colm chided.
“Thank you for seeing to her in Trowbridge,” Oryn said, his gaze taking in all of his companions.
Aiden blinked at him like he had sprouted a second head. “Just because you thanked me, doesn’t mean I’m not going to push my luck,” he said. “And you owe me a coat.” He fingered the hole left by the blade.
“I’ll buy you one in Windcross Wells.”
“The girl’s making you soft,” Bade huffed.
Perhaps she was, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. Whatever the gods wanted with Enya Silverbow, it seemed important enough to drag him into it. When she settled back by the fire, her damp, freshly dyed hair hung over the towel she kept wrapped around her shoulders.
“Much better,” Aiden declared loudly.
She eyed him distrustfully, as did Oryn.
He tapped the side of his nose with a finger. “The smell. Our noses aresosensitive.”
She scowled. “Like you don’t smell like you’re wearing weeks of travel.”
Aiden shrugged. “Take the compliment, Lady Silverbow. When you don’t smell like sweat and horse dung, you smelldivine.”
Spots of color appeared again in her cheeks.
“We thought you were a fire wielder at first.”
“Why?” She asked hesitantly, her brow creasing.
“You smell like smoke,” he shrugged. “It’s common with our gifts. But it must just be that lovely little temper of yours.”
She raised her shirt to her nose and sniffed. “I do not.”
“You do.”
Her eyes narrowed, but Colm pushed a plate into her hands. It had taken almost a week before she believed they weren’t trying to poison her and cart her off. It would have been an even longer trip to Drozia if she kept up that particular concern. But there was nothing to be done about her temper. That would be a problem for whatever king or court she decided to serve. The girl would have her pick of them, if she could manage to accept an order without questioning it, which was probably asking too much. He doubted Enya Silverbow would be taking orders any time soon, even from the gods themselves.
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