“Maybe I don’t like to see innocent people dragged away for a king’s fancy.”
“And that concerns you why?”
“I told you that I’m a wanderer. I go where the roads lead, and I’ve seen enough to know when they’re about to run red. The road is a dangerous place to travel alone, even more so for a woman. You had no idea I followed you after seeing you run from Birkfell. I could escort you if you’d like. It matters not where I go, so it is no chore to accompany you.”
His words unsettled her. Why had he followed her and why would he, a stranger, suggest such a thing? Once again, she wondered about his honesty or was he clever enough to sound it?
She studied him, noting again the curve of his scar, the fine make of his worn cloak, the confident weight in his stance and the way his dark hair brushed his shoulders, the strands glimmering from a fresh wash. Nothing about him matched the aimless poverty and neglect of a true wanderer.
“You say you care little,” she said slowly, “yet you offer to help me. Why?”
“As I said, the roads are dangerous, strewn with Hunters who will not stop until they find what they search for and thieves who will take more than you want to give, and then there are the heartless mercenaries. Alone, you’ll be scooped up. With me, I can protect you from the dangers that lurk on the road and Hunters will find no interest in you if you’re not alone.”
“And why is that?”
“They will think we are a couple who wander together.”
Her pulse quickened at such a ridiculous notion, though she kept her expression still. “You expect me to trust a man, a stranger, I know nothing about?”
He smiled faintly, but it wasn’t warm. “Wisdom would serve you better than trust right now. It’s me or the Hunters.”
Elara had no desire to come across Hunters, but how did she trust a wanderer?
He seemed to read her silence. “I’ll see you safely to your destination. After that, we can part ways. Refuse my offer if you want, but I intend to follow you anyway, as I have been doing, and see you get there safely.”
She drew a slow breath, not knowing what to make of him. Did he speak truthfully or did he have another reason for wanting to travel with her? In the end, he was leaving her with no choice. He intended to follow her whether she granted him permission to do so or not. But why? Why should her safety matter to him? She continued to be suspicious of his motive. But if he intended to follow her, it would make more sense that he did so alongside her rather than somewhere she could not see what he was up to.
With no choice or time to spare, she asked, “Your name?”
He smiled as though victorious, and she noticed then that neither the scar nor the scruff on his face could disguise his fine features. Nothing about him, his appearance, his garments, or his persistence made sense.
“Dar,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “And yours?”
Elara stared at him for a long moment, torn between mistrust and a reluctant sense of safety his confident manner stirred before saying, “Elara. And we will be traveling companions until Thornleigh, then we part.”
He stepped aside, sweeping his hand out for her to pass. “Elara. You may find that you enjoy my company so much that you may not want to part from me.”
“I doubt that very much,” Elara said, and thought she heard him chuckle as she swept past him.
They walked in silence and hadn’t gone far when Dar suddenly moved ahead of her, his posture changing, tense and alert, his eyes wide scanning the area, and his head tilted, listening.
“Quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, carrying the weight of command.
Elara slowed, her heart quickening. Something in his tone told her not to argue.
Then she heard it, the steady thud of hooves, the creak of harness, the murmur of voices threading through the morning air.
Dar turned to her, eyes sharp. “Follow my lead.”
Before she could ask why, his arm coiled around her waist, drawing her firmly against his side. His cloak fell around her, enveloping her in warmth and the faint scent of earth and pine. The move was so swift, so sure, she hadn’t time to resist.
“Keep your head down,” he whispered against her hair.
Two riders appeared along the forest path, their dark cloaks heavy with dew, faces hidden beneath their hoods. Even at a distance, Elara could feel their presence, the air thickened with it, cold and oppressive.
Hunters.
They reined in their horses, blocking the narrow pathway.