Page 36 of Arrows and Gems
“And that would be...?” Helena prompted.
His free hand tightened into a fist. “I may trust you with arrows in a week, Margit, but I cannot trust you with this.”
He must be quite confident in his ability to stop her. Either that, or he valued his mission more than his life.
Too bad she couldn’t reach him from here. His hood was really starting to annoy her.
CHAPTER 15
Cap
Stars were peeking through the bare branches when Cap and Margit reached the camp. Most of the tents were already up, but Jean-haut was still manipulating branches for the last few.
“Cap! I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it tonight.” Jean-haut’s voice boomed across the tiny clearing. “I see you’ve tamed our lively guest.”
As a host of chuckles followed this statement, Margit sat taller in the saddle, her green eyes blazing. “Let me down,” she hissed. “I can walk from here.”
Cap allowed himself a huff of amusement. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said smoothly. Her eyes widened, but he didn’t pause to wonder why.
Stepping around to Farrell’s right side, he set his hands on Margit’s waist and lifted her down from the horse. Her hands pressed into his shoulders for balance as her left leg slid across the saddle. Since it was dark, he didn’t bother turning his face while he set her feet gently on the ground.
The starlight that cast his face in shadows softened the angry lines of hers. Margit peeked up at him, her head tilted to the side in a shy gesture.
It wasn’t an effect of the dim light; her expression had mellowed. The left side of her mouth curled up. “Thank you.”
Her hands still rested on his shoulders, and for somereason, his were still on her waist.
What if General Valentin hadn’t sent her?
Suddenly, her smile twitched into a smirk. Her right hand darted sideways, snagging his hood. Cap jerked back and grabbed her wrist. The stubborn woman held on tight.
They struggled for a moment before he pried her fingers loose with his other hand. She wobbled, but he quickly steadied her. From a distance.
“Behave, or I won’t give you your cane,” he growled.
She smiled sweetly at him. “You wouldn’t do that. It would mean offering yourself as my support instead.”
“I’d make Rouge do it.”
“False again.” She lifted an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t force a disagreeable task on one of your people—”
“I’d make an exception,” he grumbled.
“—and withholding my cane would violate your outlaw honor.”
“She has you pegged, Cap,” Rouge laughed. Patting him on the shoulder, she stepped past and untied Margit’s cane from the saddle. “Go set up your tent; I’ll take care of Margit.”
He nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you, Rouge.”
Jean-haut pointed out the spot for their tent, then adjusted the nearby branches with his magic. Cap was thankful for the cloudless night; the shadows cast by the moonlight were better for setting up tents than the darker ones from a center campfire.
The forester glanced up from the knot he was tying. “Now that we’re here, what do you think? Is this site far enough?”
To give himself time to think, Cap drove in a tent peg, then grabbed the next rope and pulled it taut. Quiet voices drifted over from their companions. Canvas shushing and a hammer sounding an irregular beat against the tent pegs melded into a peaceful backdrop, but Cap didn’t feel peaceful.
How far could the wind gryphon’s breeze travel? Werethey still in its range? If the wielder sent it again while following today’s path, would he find them here?
The rope jumped under his hand, pulling free with a speed that stung his skin. Hissing in pain, he jumped to his feet and speared his friend with a glare. “How old are you?”
