Village of Barloch
The Road to Caerith
* * *
For a moment, Elara couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could barely focus.
A cloudy sky hung over the Hunters who stood in formation, as still as carved stone, their dark garments glistening faintly with dew. The faint metallic scent of oiled leather and iron filled the air.
Dar was every inch the image she’d come to fear: tall, commanding, draped in black leather that fitted his sculpted chest like a second skin. The morning light caught the silver clasp at his throat, that no other but he wore marking him as someone important, someone of authority. His dagger was sheathed at his waist and the steel of a fine sword gleamed at his side.
His gray eyes were blank as they fixed on her. They were no longer the eyes of the man who had traveled beside her, shared her smiles, listened to her worries by the fire. Once warm and concerned, they were now icy cold.
Her mind fought to make sense of what her eyes refused to believe. Gone was the rough cloak, the easy stride, the faint smile that always lingered in his eyes. The man before her looked carved from shadow and iron. The simple wanderer, her protector was gone.
“Step outside,” he ordered, his voice carrying the unquestioned authority of a man long accustomed to obedience.
Elara turned briefly to Feena, her hand tightening protectively around Adira’s. The lass pressed closer to the older woman, her wide eyes darting between Elara and the Hunters.
Elara’s feet felt rooted to the floor. Her heart pounded, each beat sounding louder in her ears. Her feet refused to move. Her mind struggled to make sense of what she saw. Then the truth settled, sharp and merciless.
The strange looks at the inn.
The deference in the innkeeper’s eyes.
The way the villagers had watched him.
They had known.
They had known all along who he was… a Hunter.
Dar took a slow step forward, his movements measured, his expression stoic. “Elara, do not force me to come get you.”
She stood staring at him, words shouting in her head but not reaching her lips. “You lied to me. Every word, every kindness. It was all a lie. You used me to your own end.”
She said none of it. She would not say what she felt. She would not look like a fool in front of others.
But the words continued in her head, her heart hurting. “You traveled beside me, slept nearby, swore you would keep me safe when all the while, you were one of them. And worst of all, you made me believe you truly cared what happened to me.”
“One last time, Elara,” Dar shouted. “You and the other two women step out of the cottage.”
“We should do as he says,” Feena urged and gave Elara a nudge in the back.
Where she found the strength, she didn’t know, but Elara moved, Feena and Adira following behind her and stopping when they reached the fence, Dar standing on the other side of it.
He stepped forward and kept his voice low. “I gave you my word to protect you, and I keep my word.”
She desperately wanted to believe him, but his eyes held the cold fierceness of a Hunter.
“I am not your enemy,” he said.
“And you are not my friend,” she said bitterly. “That leaves the question, what am I to you? A task? A duty?”
He hesitated briefly. “I serve the king.”
The answer struck like a blade between her ribs.
Elara’s chin went up. “It is good to know that, and I will remember it well.”