“Ladies should not take joy in thumping things.”
Arianna ate, doing her best to fill her stomach as full as she could before her journey began, and listened to Jolene and Sigimor as the pair talked about their beautiful, black-haired daughters. To some it might sound as if they argued with each other but there was no taint of anger in their words. There was, however, a great deal of teasing, and she could not help but laugh at times.
A sudden attack of envy, laden with sadness, overtook her. Here was what she had been looking for, what she had wanted to share with Claud. It was what she had seen so often among the married couples in her clan. To her it had been the normal way a marriage should be and she had been naive to think she could have one like it simply because she exchanged a few vows with a man.
She was almost relieved when Brian announced that they had to leave. Guilt pinched her heart as she truly enjoyed Jolene’s company and envy was such a pitiful emotion. It was just going to take her a while to endure watching people who had what she craved, she decided as she followed Brian and Sigimor out into the bailey where the horses waited. Arianna said her good-byes to Jolene as Brian checked the packs on their horses and talked to Sigimor. From what little she overheard of the men’s conversation, it was evident that Sigimor’s men had been hunting for Amiel and his surviving men, reporting back only an hour ago that they had seen no sign of them. Some of the tension that had begun to tighten in her body at the prospect of more running from the enemy eased and Arianna mounted her waiting horse with no hesitation.
It was barely midday when Brian had them stop. Arianna wanted to continue and would have made no complaint if they had, but she was also pleased to dismount for a while. Aches she had thought healed by the short rest at Dubheidland were already making their lingering presence known.
“I but need to look about a wee bit,” Brian said, and brushed a kiss across her mouth.
“I thought Sigimor said his men had nay found Amiel,” she said, resisting the sudden urge to look around.
He smiled and tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her braid behind her ear. “He did, but it cannae hurt to see if I can find a sign that they are headed toward Scarglas. It would be good to ken if they are ahead of us.”
“Ah, of course. We wouldnae want to ride into their hands.”
“Nay, we wouldnae. Will ye be all right here?”
“Aye. Go. I will be fine. I will just rest here beneath the tree.”
Brian hesitated and then gave her another kiss before leaving. Arianna smiled faintly as she watched him go. It was time to sit and wait again, but this time she did not mind. He needed to assure himself they were not riding into a trap and she needed to rest. It was also the middle of the day, the land around her bathed in sun, a cool, light breeze blowing, and she wanted to enjoy that for a while.
She settled herself beneath the tree. Within a short time her eyes grew heavy but she tried to fight the urge to sleep. It was not wise to sleep as if there was no danger, she sternly told herself, but her body was obviously not concerned. Just as she began to slide into a doze a faint noise snapped her awake.
Arianna slowly stood up and looked around. It was light where she stood, the trees thinner than ones surrounding her. She realized that made her very easy to see and cursed her own foolishness. She should have moved into the shadows. The faint snap of a twig drew her gaze toward where the trees thickened, the shadows they cast heavier and harder to see through. That was where she should have hidden herself. Instead, it now gave shelter to a threat. Her whole body tense as she fought a blinding panic, Arianna backed toward her horse.
Fear making her heart pound, she turned to run to her mount only to find a man between her and the horse. Now she knew why the animal had not become restless, warning her. Men did not trouble it. She spun around thinking to run in another direction only to find another man behind her. What terrified her the most, however, was the man who stepped out from behind a large tree and gave her a smile that chilled her blood.
“Greetings, sister,” the man drawled in French.
“Amiel, how nice for ye to slither up out of the muck to greet me,” she replied in English, and briefly wondered if it was wise to be so insulting only to decide it did not matter. The man would do his best to hurt her even if she was as sweet as honey.
“I see you have sunk back into the barbaric ways of this country again, although I am rather pleased that you no longer even attempt to speak French though you still appear to understand it reasonably well.” He shuddered. “It is difficult to listen to you speak it.”