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“I should think so, Reginald. You rode alongside me for thirty years.” Her hands cemented to her hips. “And what’s this lass nonsense? Show some respect.”
“Forgive me, Night Mallt.” His horse sniffed in my direction and immediately jerked to the right, whinnying. Reginald attempted to calm his steed. “What magic have you brought with you?”
“Never mind us. Why are you riding alone?” Matilda asked.
“I serve as a scout now.” Reginald didn’t look particularly pleased with his new role.
“Why would Vortigern be so foolish as to waste your skills? Why not appoint Angus as a scout? He tracks far better than he shoots.”
Reginald bowed his head. “Angus is no longer with us.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“Vortigern sent him away, same as you.”
Matilda’s eyes grew cold and hard. “Why?”
“He questioned the damage done by the hunt in Siberia. Vortigern didn’t take kindly to the criticism.” Reginald licked his lips. “Out of respect for our history, I’m going to tell you this as a courtesy—Vortigern sent a druid with us. I don’t know what his task is, but I reckon it’s nothing good.”
“Since when do we need druids to hunt?” Matilda asked.
“Since a certain hobgoblin returned from here, along with a threatening message for Vortigern. To say he was dismayed is putting it mildly.”
I suddenly became engrossed in the growth pattern of a nearby thicket.
“But he perked up when the hobgoblin mentioned a white stag.”
Alarm bells rang in my head. “The hobgoblin saw it?”
“No, he overheard a couple werewolves talking about trying to find it. That the creature has great power, which is why the gods granted its ability to evade capture.” Reginald sighed. “Of course, now that Vortigern knows there’s a white stag, all he cares about is killing it and claiming its power. Wants to prove he’s superior to any legend.”
Matilda shook her head. “Vortigern is an affront to the institution.”
Reginald leaned over. “I would tell you I agree with you, except he’s got feathered spies in the trees. Can’t be sure who’s listening.” He cast a wary look at the treetops. “I should get on with it. We only have until sundown tomorrow to complete our tasks.” He paused. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
Matilda pretended to zip her lips.
Reginald gripped the reins and urged his horse forward. “Good hunting, Night Mallt.”
She bowed her head. “Forgive me if I don’t wish you the same.”
Reginald rode deeper into the forest.
“I have a lock on the druid,” I said. “I’ll see if I can find out his purpose.” I didn’t want any of the wolves to get hurt.
Matilda stroked her mare's head. “You should head straight home after that, cariad. Save your strength for sundown tomorrow. We’ll most certainly need it.”
“What about you?”
“I intend to shadow the scouts. See if they manage to track the stag.”
“And if they do?”
“At this point, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prevent Vortigern from taking its power.”
“You’d kill the stag?” Her remark shouldn’t have surprised me, yet it did.
She cocked an eyebrow. “You disapprove?”
