“You there,” one barked. “Hold.”
Dar obeyed, his arm still firm around her, his stance shifting subtly between her and danger.
“Your names,” the man demanded.
“Wanderers,” Dar said. “We keep to the woods and stay clear of trouble.”
The second rider’s gaze swept over them, lingering on Elara. “You’ve come from Birkfell?”
Dar shook his head. “We heard the cries and stayed clear. Whatever business brings Hunters to a healer’s village, it’s none of our concern.”
The man’s stare narrowed. “You’ve seen no one? No healers fleeing the village?”
“Nay,” Dar said. “We’ve heard only the echo of your drums.”
The Hunter’s eyes fixed on Elara. “You—look at me.”
Dar tightened his hold slightly and spoke before she could respond. “If my wife were a healer, we would not be wandering these woods. We make no trouble, nor do we want any trouble.”
For an instant, Elara forgot to breathe. The warmth of his body, the way he held her snug against him, as though he would let no one take her from him, felt all too real.
The Hunter studied them for a moment longer, then he gave a curt nod. “Keep to the forest while the Hunters hunt or you will find trouble.”
Dar inclined his head. “Aye, we want no trouble.”
The riders turned and continued down the path, their figures swallowed by trees.
Elara didn’t move until the sound of hooves faded completely.
When Dar finally lowered his arm, she stepped away, the sudden absence of his warmth leaving her unsteady.
“You lied well,” she said, though her voice came out softer than intended.
He shrugged. “It comes of needing to stay alive.”
Her gaze met his. “If they’d looked longer?—”
“They didn’t. Because they believed what they saw, a husband protecting his wife. Now let’s keep moving if we’re to beat the Hunters to Thornleigh.”
Elara hurried to keep step, the chilled, autumn morning air cool on her skin, though she could still feel the ghost of his arm around her. The memory of his strength lingered like the echo of the drums.
They walked in silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of their steps and the distant calls of busy birds. The forest had begun to thin, the trees stretching taller, as a cool wind drifted through the leaves just beginning to turn colors, carrying the clean scent of rain-washed earth.
Dar kept a few paces behind her, content to let her lead though she followed no path he could see. She moved with quiet purpose, her stride even, her head held high. There was no fear in the set of her shoulders, only resolve.
He’d met healers before, kind, soft-spoken women, some who flinched at the sight of blood yet faced sickness and death with a bravery most warriors lacked. But he had never met an herb-scribe, women who spent more time in the forest than with people. He’d also never met a woman with hair and eye color such as hers.
He watched as her hair caught the light, a faint sheen of silver. It was like no color he had ever seen before. That alone marked her as uncommon and the Hunters would be sure to think she was a healer, the one they searched for, if they found her among the healers.
Her eyes, a rare color, like the amethyst stone, were unsettling—had met his with the directness of someone used to truth, not flattery. He wondered how many had looked at her and seen a blessing, and how many had seen a curse. Though to some, her beauty alone might have outweighed any unease.
She was also independent and far too brave for her own good. She’d chosen to walk into danger when most would remain hidden. Foolish, perhaps. Admirable, certainly.
She glanced back once, just enough to meet his eyes before turning forward again. He looked away first, not wanting her to look too deep and learn anything about him.
Though, he intended to learn more about her.
They walked a while longer, the quiet stretching between them like a thread that neither seemed inclined to cut. Elara preferred the soothing melody of the forest, the rustle of leaves, the drip of earlier rain from the high branches, the distant gurgle of a stream somewhere beyond the trees. This was home to her more than anywhere else, a place that welcomed her. A place she felt secure. A place that willingly shared its vast and ancient knowledge with her.