Page 96 of The Queen and the Half-blood
“We need to move,” Cailean announced. The chief-enforcer stood with his wife. Bree was bleeding from several cuts, although she hardly seemed to notice them. Instead, her gaze swept their surroundings, looking for more trouble.
“Aye … dusk approaches,” Roth replied. A deep cut oozed upon the captain’s right arm—an injury that needed seeing to. “Let’s retrieve our horses and get going.”
And they did. Most of the injured were able to ride, and those who weren’t now traveled in the wagons. The army moved faster now, the drum of hoofbeats echoing through the rain. And all the while, Alar kept one eye on the marshes.
“Have you ever fought a bog wight before?” Lara asked eventually.
Alar cut her a glance. His wife was shivering in her sodden clothing. They needed to find refuge so she could get out of thewet and cold. He shook his head. “I had a close brush with them once … a long time ago though.”
“What happened?”
“When I was a bairn, my mother and I were returning from the village market. It was raining, and we were passing a flooded field when we heard voices.” He paused then, as he recalled the incident. It had taken place decades earlier, yet he still remembered it vividly. “Ma grabbed my hand, and we fled like hares.”
A nerve flickered in Lara’s cheek. “They ambushed us.”
Uneasiness slithered in Alar’s gut as he nodded. “They did.”
“The Raven Queen?”
“I don’t think so,” he replied cautiously. “The Shee’s allies have been faerie creatures … the likes of trows and powries … but I’ve never heard of them holding sway over spirits.”
“They don’t.” Bree’s voice made them both turn in the saddle. She rode behind them, Cailean at her side now. “None of the living, be they Shee or Marav, can control the spirit world.”
Lara ducked into her tent and pushed her hood back.
She paused then, listening for the screech of the Slew outside. Nothing. Only the rise and fall of excited voices. She’d just driven the restless dead off for the second time on this journey. The Fire Wraith had returned, and the camp was alive with talk about the flames that had erupted from its fingers.
Heaving a sigh, Lara shrugged off her cloak. Gods, she was bone-weary. Her limbs ached, her feet dragged, and she was now shivering. Chills rippled across her skin, and her teeth chattered. Quickly retrieving her favorite fur-lined cloak, she pulled it tightly about her.
Her heartbeat pulsed in the hollow of her throat. After the Fuath attack, she’d been on edge, jumping at shadows. The last thing she needed was another visit from the Slew. However, at dusk, they’d appeared.
Luckily, fire had done her bidding.
Outdoors, the rain had ceased, although The Gales of Complaint still raced across the land. They’d crossed into The Uplands now and had set up camp overnight on a rugged hillside. She couldn’t wait to reach Dulross. The fort would provide a couple of days’ reprieve and comfort before they struck out for Strath.
Still shivering, despite that she was now wrapped in wool and fur, she crossed to the satchel she’d left next to the furs and stuffed away her cloak and mask. However, as she did so, she marked the tremble in her hands. Curse it, she needed to pull herself together.
Alar entered the tent then.
Straightening up, she turned to face him, taking in his unkempt appearance. The rain had slicked his hair back, and streaks of mud smeared his face and bare arms. “Just in time,” she greeted him with a brittle smile before gesturing to where an iron pot hung over the nearby brazier. “The water should be hot enough now for bathing.”
She nodded then to the curtain made of sewn-together hare skins that shielded the far corner of the tent—the space where they could bathe or use the privy.
Alar snorted. “Are you trying to tell me something, wife?”
She grimaced. “Aye …bothof us look as if we crawled out of a bog.”
He pulled a face too, agreeing with her. She shivered then as she recalled those glistening wights. They’d wanted to drag her into the marsh, to drown her and make her one of them.
“The camp’s humming about the Fire Wraith,” he said then, his gaze roaming over her face. “Again.”
She managed a tight smile in response. She couldn’t afford to congratulate herself too much. At this rate, they’d all see her ‘perform’ many more times before the campaign was over. “Let’s hope my disguise continues to fool them.”
His gaze flicked to the satchel behind her. “You’re careful not to let anyone too close?”
“Aye.” An awkward silence fell then, and Lara cut her gaze away. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious around him. “The lasses will bring us supper shortly. We should wash up.”
“You go first … while the water is hot.”
