Page 86 of Blood & Claw

A wind rose as they traveled, blustery and gusting. The Gales of Complaint, common in autumn, raced across the land, tearing at yellowing trees and whipping dust into their eyes. Rùn bowed his head against it, and Ailsa was grateful that Dale’s broad back shielded her from the worst of the wind.

The road snaked north over shrubby hills and through stands of pine, birch, and twisted oak. Clouds scudded across a pale-blue sky.

The sight of the road, empty at present, made her belly harden. Every furlong felt longer than the last. What if they were already too late?

The sun was nearly at its highest point when Ailsa spied a lone raven perched on a crooked pine beside the road. The bird did not fly away when they passed. Instead, it watched them—head tilted, black eyes bright with uncanny intelligence.

Dale’s body tensed against hers, and she knew he’d seen it too.

“Is it the same raven as earlier?” she murmured.

“I’d say so,” he whispered back. “One that big isn’t common.”

She frowned. “Maybe it’s a Watcher.”

He breathed a curse. “Let’s hope not.”

It was said that in dark times, The Warrior sent out his messengers to observe battlefields or warriors before conflict. To be followed by a Watcher didn’t bode well.

“Look.” Dale drew her attention from the raven. “Travelers … up ahead.”

Grateful for the distraction, she viewed two figures riding garrons approaching. A man and a woman, both carrying large wicker baskets strapped on behind the saddles.

“Good day,” Dale hailed them as they approached. “We’re following a group of warriors on horseback. Have you seen them?”

“No sign of anyone this morning,” the man replied, drawing up his pony.

Ailsa’s jaw tightened. Cods.

“Are you in need of an iron charm?” the woman asked, patting the basket behind her. “If you’re traveling north, you’ll likely find it useful.”

“No thanks,” Dale replied, drawing back his cloak to reveal the numerous blades strapped to his body. “We’ve got enough iron.”

Both their gazes widened, but they took his point.

Nodding to the couple, Dale urged Rùn on, and they left them behind.

Ailsa leaned in. “Does this mean they’ve left the highway?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Do we need to check?”

“I have.”

“What if you’ve missed something?”

His shoulders stiffened. “I haven’t. How much experience do you have in tracking, Ailsa?”

Heat rushed into her face. They both knew the answer to that. However, she couldn’t bear the thought of going in the wrong direction, of giving their quarry any chance of getting farther ahead.

He always sounded so damned certain.

She’d hired him, but he liked to be the one in charge. She was about to remind him that she was the one paying the coin when movement on the road ahead drew her eye.

A woman, tall and slender, had just staggered onto it. She was some yards off, clad in leathers, with black hair braided down her back.

Dale drew up his stallion, one hand going to the handle of the dagger strapped to his thigh.