Page 35 of Bride of Mist
But had he done the right thing, leaving her at the inn?
Would she grow to appreciate the gift he’d given her? Would she be grateful for his rescue? Or would she think he’d imprisoned her like a caged bird, trapped her in a life not of her own making?
Perhaps in a few months when all this was over, if—God willing—he was no longer a wanted man and his clan was safe from retribution, he’d return to see how she was faring.
In the meantime, as he slogged through the wood, burdened by the dark memories of his failures—the souls he’d lost at Kirkoswald, the mac Girics he’d wounded, the woman he’d slain with his careless hand—he would hold Feiyan’s image as a wee candle in the dark.
A candle that flickered with hope. Promise. And salvation.
Vengeance burned hot in Feiyan as she coursed down the main road, her cloak flapping about her like the wings of a great raven.
Now she had no qualms about killing the cursed Westlander. Not after he’d tried to indenture her to an innkeeper. And the fact he’d crept away before dawn, like a thief in the night…
The man was not only a knave. He was a coward.
She shuddered to think she’d actually felt pity for him. She’d been fooled by his tragic blue eyes and his halfhearted smile. Moved to mercy by his melancholy.
Now she knew the truth. He’d never wanted to help her. He only wanted to be rid of her. He’d discarded her without a backward glance, just as he’d done his armor and his horse.
He’d said he was no fool. It seemed he was right. He’d sneaked away early, before anyone could witness his leaving.
But he hadn’t counted on Feiyan’s keen tracking abilities. Or her determination.
He’d probably return to the forest trail. It was the safest route for a fugitive. But it was also slow going. By taking the main road, Feiyan could surge ahead of him, cut back into the woods, and lie in wait.
There she would waylay the craven knave before he could even draw breath. Take vengeance for her clan. Seal the Westlander’s fate. Reclaim her sword. And keep his jeweled dagger as payment for her trouble.
At a hectic pace fueled by fury, she stormed down the road. In the cold air of the morn, her hot breath chuffed out, curdling the fog in its wake.
Eventually the mist lifted, merging with heavy gray clouds that hung low in the sky.
A few carts passed by, laden with parcels and goods for market. A monk rode past on a donkey. A man herded a pair of oxen along the road.
But they paid her no mind. Feiyan was just another traveler, inconspicuous to most. Hours later, she was still silently cursing the Westland devil who had tricked her with his generous gestures.
Charmed her with his words of compassion.
Distracted her with his handsome face.
When she was sure she had outdistanced him, she left the main road and headed toward the water. The underbrush was thicker here, and the trees, fed by the deep river, grew to great height. The soft mud of the deer trail that followed the banks showed no sign of fresh footprints.
He hadn’t yet passed this way.
But he could arrive at any time.
Choosing a stately elm near the path, she clambered up the trunk to perch in a fork that afforded her a good view for twenty yards in both directions. Then she waited.
Again and again, she planned her attack, with every variation possible. Leaping in front of him with herduandao.Waiting till he passed and surprising him from behind with the spike of herbishou.Firing heryan zi fei daoat him from the tree.
When she was satisfied she’d considered every possible outcome, she relaxed back against the trunk and pulled out a bannock. She’d have one of them now to break her fast and save the other two for journey home.
She had just finished eating and was brushing the crumbs from her gambeson when she heard a rustling.
She froze at the first flicker of leaves in the distance. By the measured, heavy footfalls, she knew it was a man.
A moment later, by his long stride, broad shoulders, and theshindaohung at his hips, she knew it was mac Darragh.
She pulled up her mask and braced herself, ready to act. She decided to use theduandao,since he was coming at great speed. Startling him would give him no time to draw his blade. And no time for her to falter.
