Page 46 of Bride of Mist
“Found who?”
Hew stepped forward, guessing at once. “Mac Darragh?”
Adam nodded.
Hew had his blade halfway drawn when Gellir put out a restraining hand, murmuring, “You can’t just murder the man in the broad light of day, Hew.”
“Where is he?” Hew asked Adam.
Adam grimaced. “I didn’t actually see him.”
“What?” Hew barked.
Adam continued, “But I’m almost sure I found his horse.”
“His horse?” Brand asked. “Then he must be here. Somewhere.”
“That’s just it,” Adam said. “The horse is…for sale.”
“For sale?” the three others echoed.
“Take us there,” Gellir said.
They walked together through the market. With news that mac Darragh might be lurking nearby, Brand forgot about his Toledo daggers, and Hew forgot about his lady love. All eyes were alert for the demon knight in black armor.
When they reached the livestock pens, Gellir knew there was no mistake. The magnificent black horse belonged to the man who had savaged the melee at Creagor.
“Why would he sell his charger?” Brand wondered. “Doesn’t he need it to get home?”
Hew nodded toward the man selling the beast. “Maybe he traded it in for a fresh mount.”
Glum Adam had a different idea. “Maybe he’s dead.”
No one had to state the obvious—that Feiyan might have killed mac Darragh.
That idea sent a shiver through Gellir. Despite her small size, his cousin Feiyan wasn’t as fragile or innocent as she seemed. But singlehanded assassination…
“Let’s go find out,” Gellir suggested, heading toward the merchant and his wife. Adopting an air of noble authority, he demanded, “Sir, how came you by this beast?”
When the man stuttered, the wife intervened. “I assure you, m’laird, we came by it honestly.”
“Who sold it to you?”
“’Twas given to us,” the man replied.
“As a gift,” the woman added.
Gellir scowled and perused the sleek animal with its powerful musculature and shiny coat. No one in his right mind would give such an expensive gift to a stranger, unless he was in a hurry to disappear. On the other hand, this couple didn’t look conniving enough to have stolen the horse. “A gift from whom? Is he still here at the market?”
“Och, no. ’Twas a few days past.”
“What did he look like, this fellow who gave you the horse?”
“No way to tell, m’laird,” the man replied. “He only left a note, saying ’twas a gift.”
Hew asked, “But he took another horse in exchange, aye?”
They shook their heads.
