Page 104 of The Queen and the Half-blood
“Aye, they’re our enemies,” Roth answered, his voice flat and hard.
Lara averted her gaze from Ilene and Dean’s decomposing faces. “Do the hill-tribes hate me that much?”
“Not you, Lara,” Alar replied softly. With a jolt, she realized he was standing next to her now. “They hate what you stand for. Decades of oppression can’t be easily wiped away with a few promises.”
“He has a point,” Cailean growled. That was a first—the chief-enforcer openly agreeing with Alar. However, Lara was too upset by her early morning delivery to pay much attention. “You might one day win their loyalty … but it will take time.”
“I should travel with the advance guard today,” Alar announced. They’d just mounted their horses and were about to ride out.“We’ll reach Dulross around noon … but after this morning’s ‘gift’, there might be trouble from the hill-tribes on the road.”
Lara nodded, even as her belly tightened. “That makes sense.”
And it did, although his words reminded her that the valuable alliance they’d sought with the Circines had just gone up in smoke. Disappointment wreathed up too. She liked riding side by side with her husband. After the night they’d shared, she wished to remain close to him.
She’d not admit it though. Instead, she fussed with her reins so Alar wouldn’t see her expression.
“I’ll take more of my wulvers forward from the rear guard … just in case.”
Surprised, Lara looked up. Did he really expect trouble this close to Dulross?
“Surely four hundred is enough?” Roth called out before she could answer. Having just mounted his heavy-set stallion with feathered feet a few yards away, he’d overheard their exchange.
Alar turned to him, his gaze narrowing. “Not, if Beathan mac Glen is lying in wait. They fight alongside the faerie creatures now, remember?” He paused then. “The Shee might be with them.”
The two men stared at each other, tension rippling through the air until Lara cleared her throat, irritation flaring. She was tired of her captain taking issue with everything Alar said; Roth needed to relax a bit. “My husband knows The Uplands better than most of us,” she replied briskly. “If he wants to strengthen the advance guard, he can.”
Roth’s strong jaw flexed at this, yet he held his tongue.
Lara glanced back at Alar. His expression was keen now, his gaze sharp—the tenderness he’d shown her inside their tent was nowhere to be seen.
He called out then, in the guttural tongue the wulvers used to communicate between themselves. Moments later, tall,lean figures began making their way forward toward their commander.
Lara watched the wulvers pass by. Lyall and Dolph were among them, barking instructions as they went.
Around her, the last of the tents were loaded onto wagons. Fog still snaked through the valley where they’d made camp, although the rain had stopped overnight and the bright halo of the sun was doing its best to break through. It was time to move.
Nonetheless, instead of urging his horse forward and joining his brothers and sisters who were already stalking north, the tips of the spears they gripped bristling like spindly pines in the drifting mist, Alar hesitated. “There will be more enforcers and warriors flanking you all day,” he said, his gaze flicking to where Lara’s warder had just swung up onto her cob. “And Bree will watch your back, as always.”
Bree harrumphed. “That goes without saying.” She then nudged her horse forward and drew up on Lara’s left flank. Her face was still looking a bit battered. The cuts she’d sustained the day before were scabbing now. Nonetheless, her eyes were steely.
Lara nodded to her before glancing over at Alar once more. “Go on,” she murmured. “I shall see you when we reach Dulross.”
He inclined his head to her, their gazes holding for a few moments.
And then the fine hair on the back of her forearms prickled.
Lara tensed. Everything about this morning felt … off. It wasn’t surprising though, after receiving a sack of severed heads first thing. Nonetheless, she couldn’t shake the uneasy sensation that something was wrong.
Without another word, Alar reined his horse around and urged it forward, following his wulvers north.
Lara watched him go until the mist swallowed him.
“We made a mistake … sending that peace envoy.”
Bree didn’t reply, and Lara cast her a sharp look. Her warder’s gaze wasn’t on her though. Instead, she surveyed their surroundings keenly, one hand resting lightly on the pommel of her longsword. After the day before, she was even more alert than usual. Enforcers and warriors flanked them on both sides. Her warder was determined not to let her concentration waver this morning. Mist wreathed around them, making visibility difficult.
“Alar warned me that the Circines wouldn’t treat with us,” Lara admitted then, warmth washing over her.
Bree did glance her way then, her gaze narrowing. “He didn’t bring that up in any of our councils.”
