Page 59 of Bride of Mist
But she wasn’t hotheaded Jenefer. She wouldn’t succumb to anger. With a mocking smile and an inviting flourish of her arm, she stepped aside to let him take the lead as they continued down the path.
She wasn’t finished with the debate, however.
“How am I supposed to protect myself?” she muttered at him.
“I’ll protect ye,” he said over his shoulder.
“What makes you think you can protect me?” she scoffed. She’d almost killed him three times. He could barely protecthimself.
“I can’t afford not to,” he said. “Ye said it yourself. I’d be a fool to let harm come to a hostage.”
“A hostage? I thought we were allies.”
“Maybe. But I’ve heard no assurances o’ that from the army o’ Rivenloch.”
She supposed that was true. But a hostage? She didn’t feel like a hostage. Not after she’dsnuggled in the crook of his arm all night.
She let out a cross sigh. She supposed what he said was true enough. He had to do his best to keep her safe. To do otherwise risked the safety of his clan.
Still, she hated not having her weapons on her person. They gave her a sense of security. Of control. As her cousins often claimed, Feiyan didn’t need a weapon, because shewasa weapon. But without her sharpened steel, she felt only half dressed.
“Fine,” she decided. “For now.”
Still, it rankled at her to see hershoudaohung from his hips, bouncing contentedly against his thigh.
It took her half a mile to stop seething. But she realized she needed to speak civilly to him at some point.
The sooner they got on with solving who was responsible for the Kirkoswald massacre—the sooner the mac Girics were absolved of the crime and she could assure Dougal of Rivenloch’s help—the sooner she could have her hot bath, decent meal, and soft bed. Then she’d reclaim her precious sword. She’d reclaimallher weapons.
With that goal in mind, when the path suddenly widened, she skipped up to walk beside him.
“So we were discussing the details about Kirkoswald,” she reminded him.
His face darkened at the memory. “Aye.”
“You said you arrived there after the fire,” she said. “After the perpetrators had gone.”
“Aye.”
“From where did you arrive?” she asked.
“Castle Darragh. ’Tis only a few miles.”
“On foot? On horseback?”
“On Urramach, my charger.”
“The horse you left with the crofters.”
“Aye.”
It was a shame he’d given the horse away. It was a fine beast and a fast runner. He’d probably covered the distance to Kirkoswald in no more than a quarter of an hour.
“How did you first learn about the fire?” she asked. “From the smoke?”
“Nay. Two o’ my brother’s men brought the news.”
“Your brother? Who is your brother?”
