Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
She frowned. “Why not? This is the home of the Hunters. Surely your woods are the safest place of all.”
He crossed the distance between them and drew her close, his arm settling around her with instinctive ease. “Not today.”
Her heart gave a small jolt. “Why?”
“Word has reached my da. Hunters have heard that a foreigner has entered Driochmor, near Wedderlie. There is good reason to believe the man is an emissary from Drogath, sent by Warlord Tharne. If true, it would be safe to assume that Tharne intends to offer the creatures of Driochmor whatever it takes to fight alongside him and help him conquer Scotara. My da doesn’t trust anyone but me to find out if this is true or nothing more than a whispered tale before he reports it to the king. We leave immediately for Wedderlie.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Return to…
Wedderlie
* * *
They reached Wedderlie well after midday and they were anything but welcomed, but then it was a Hunter with his troop that now arrived.
Six Hunters rode in formation behind them. The sound of hooves echoed too loudly in the heavily silent village, iron striking stone, leather creaking, weapons shifting as Dar led them to the inn.
Doors were quickly closed. Villagers, brave enough to watch, whispered among themselves. A man hastily turned down a side lane, rushing off, and a woman, eyes wide with fright, pulled her child close and hurried into a cottage.
Elara understood their fear. Though no drums had preceded them, where Hunters landed, people vanished.
Dar did not slow the horse’s determined gait. He rode straight down the village lane, his posture rigid, his gaze forward. He looked every bit what they feared him to be now—a Hunter on the king’s mission.
Dar dismounted when they reached the inn. He gave a quick glance around before he went to Elara. He reached up to take firm hold of her waist and lifted her off the horse, keeping her close after her feet touched the ground.
“A Hunter’s wife would dare not be harmed. You are safe here,” he said, keeping his voice low and his confidence strong. “Besides—”
She quickly finished his words, knowing what he would say. “You will always keep me safe.”
He kissed her then, a swift kiss, but one that spoke loudly. She belonged to the Hunter. She was untouchable.
He took her hand and crossed the short distance to the inn and pushed the door open.
The creak of the old, weathered wood announced their arrival and conversation died instantly when they entered.
Bella stood behind the counter, her eyes turning wide when they fell on Dar, his dark leather garments marking him… a Hunter.
Two men at a corner table went still, one of them already half-rising before thinking better of it. A woman gathering empty trenchers pulled them close to her chest and backed away.
Bella’s eyes shifted to the men behind Dar.
Hunters—six of them draped in black.
Color drained from Bella’s face. “By the saints…” she breathed, then caught herself and dipped into a hurried bow. “How may I serve you, sir?”
“We need rooms,” Dar said. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of command. “And space for horses.”
Bella nodded at once. “Aye. Aye, of course.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Elara, confusion and curiosity battling fear, then snapped back to Dar. “How many rooms?”
“Four.”
She swallowed. “I’ll see to it.”
As Bella hurried away, Elara felt the inn tighten around them. People avoided looking directly at the Hunters, yet they could not help stealing glances. Fear clung to the air thicker than smoke.
Dar turned to his men and one look had them leaving, to spread throughout the village without a word, as if they had practiced the movement a hundred times—which, Elara suspected, they had.
Dar leaned closer to her. “Wait here.”
Before Elara could respond, he turned and crossed the room in long, deliberate strides. The movement alone was enough to draw every eye. Bella had just returned to the counter with keys in hand when she froze, realizing his attention was now fully on her.
Elara moved closer to hear.
“You’ve had travelers pass through Wedderlie,” Dar said, not as a question.
Bella swallowed. “Aye… folk come and go.”
“Recently,” he pressed. “A man who kept to himself, asked questions, and took interest in the road to Driochmor.”
Her fingers tightened around the keys.
Dar rested one hand flat on the counter. Not threatening. Not gentle. Simply there.
Silence stretched and Bella’s gaze flicked toward the door, then to the Hunters beyond the windows.
Her voice dropped. “There was a man who came through two days past. Didn’t stay the night. Drank alone. Paid well.”
“Where did he come from?” Dar asked.
She shook her head quickly. “He didn’t say. But he asked about the old paths that few know about. The ones folk don’t use anymore. Said he wanted to make sure he avoided them.”
“Where did he go?” Dar asked.