Maarav tightened the bandage on his arm as they rode, annoyed that the young soldier had gotten through his defenses enough to cause minor damage. Still, he was glad he’d judged the situation well. The extra horses had everyone in high spirits, chattering amongst themselves rather than eyeing him suspiciously. Banding together against the soldiers had also taken some of the attention off Tavish and Rae for what happened to Anna’s men. They were all comrades in arms now.
He glanced around at his party as they rode on. Silvery clouds were forming in the sky, casting occasional shadows across the group. It almost seemed cold enough to snow, though given the season, the sun should have been beating down on their backs. He doubted it was just the Faie’s presence affecting the weather. There was no mention of unseasonable cold in the accounts of the Faie war. Something else was going on. It was as if the earth itself had taken notice, and was trying to freeze its inhabitants into submission. Hopefully it would freeze An Fiach first.
He hadn’t expected that additional complication. There were already too many complications. First, the Faie were highly unpredictable. It was difficult to tell if they had a leader, or just acted upon impulse. The attack on Migris had definitely been organized, but was it an isolated event, or a hint of what was to come? Then there were the Reivers. They’d heard no word of them so far, but he knew they would pop up again as the land fell further into chaos. An Fiach seemed to be the largest local faction, but the great cities had their own militaries.
At the center of it all were Finn’s people, the Cavari. Iseult had not divulged much, but if Finn was back, the others likely were too.
Maarav was yet to choose his side in it all. He knew Slàine, the woman who had cared for him like she was her own son, would want him to be on the side of the highest bidder, but he’d never been overly motivated by coin, nor was he motivated by power. While he had made a few allegiances over his lifetime, they did not drive his day to day life. What drove him was the only game he’d ever known, to come out on top of any situation thrown his way. The game had occupied most every moment of his life, a life that was nothing more than waiting to see what happened when a soulless man died.
He shook his head. It was better not to think about that. For now, he needed to focus on the most imminent threat of An Fiach, and why they now wanted Finn. Someone must have reported just who she was, else so many men would never be sent after a single girl. Kai was likely but an extra token, wanted for his associations with her.
Something wet hit his cheek. He looked up to see a gentle white flurry descending upon them. It was actually snowing in the middle of the warm season. Maarav couldn’t help but feel that perhaps even he was out of his depth. The snowfall began to thicken, making it difficult to see through the already dense trees surrounding them.
Iseult rode up by his side, looking grim as snowflakes gathered in his dark hair. “Keep your eyes open for shelter,” he advised. “We’re not outfitted for this type of weather.” He peered around at the falling snow like it was an enemy that had suddenly ambushed them. A fitting analogy, really, since most only had light cloaks to ward away the cold.
They rode on in silence as the others oohed and aahed about the snow. Maarav did not ooh, nor did he ahh. It was a pretty sight, but it could quickly turn deadly. At least An Fiach would have trouble tracking them as the snow slowly covered up their passing.
The trees thinned as they continued onward, leaving the riders fully unguarded from the icy flurry. The complaints of it being too cold began. Maarav scanned the land, freshly painted a crisp white.
“Over there,” he stated to Iseult, catching sight of a large structure.
Iseult narrowed his gaze in the direction Maarav pointed, then nodded. “I will ride ahead.”
He took off without further explanation, though Maarav knew he was likely scouting for dangers. Glad to let his brother handle the risky work, he turned to halt the other riders.
Finn and Bedelia reached him first. The hoods of their cloaks were pulled up over their heads, Finn’s a forest green, and Bedelia’s a dark brown that would easily blend in with most surroundings.
“Iseult has gone to scout our shelter,” he explained as the others reached them.
Anna seemed to have gotten over her irritation at sharing a horse, and now huddled close to Ealasaid for warmth. “I assumed we would ride on through the weather,” she commented around her chattering teeth.
“Unwise,” Tavish replied before Maarav could. “This is no natural storm.”
“Obviously,” Anna snapped. “Which is why we should continue riding until we’re out of it.”
“Too dangerous,” Rae chimed in. “We would be fools to risk the horses.”
Anna snorted. “You two sure picked the perfect time to begin offering input.”
Neither of the men replied, but they were right. The snow was beginning to pile above the horses’ fetlocks. There was no predicting the duration of the downfall, nor how far the storm spanned.
A hazy shape appeared from the direction Iseult had gone, soon revealing itself to be the man in question. He wordlessly gestured for all to follow him.
Maarav turned his horse, taking a final look at the suddenly unrecognizable, empty expanses around them. While he was grateful they’d found shelter, he had the odd feeling that once they slept, they might not find their way back again.
Bedelia tossed and turned in her bedroll. The shelter Iseult had scouted was the remains of a castle, long since fallen to disrepair. Fortunately, most chambers had a roof, granting the horses and riders a reprieve from the snow.
The fire still blazed in the center of the expansive room where they had all congregated, their bedrolls circling the warm flames. One bedroll was notably empty. Iseult was prowling around in the snow outside, keeping an eye out for anyone who might attack them in the middle of a blizzard.
Bedelia’s hand flexed around her dagger, concealed within her bedding. Was now the time? Her mission was to eliminate Finn’s protectors, namely Iseult. Would she be able to sneak up on him in the blizzard?
Cold sweat beaded on her brow as she slowly sat up. Everyone in the room was motionless, and judging by the gentle sounds of snoring, fast asleep after the exhausting ride through the snow. If she killed him now, what would she do? Try to run off in the blizzard? Pretend he was murdered by bandits?
No, it was likely best to wait, but she could at least check outside to see if an opportunity presented itself. Her stomach in knots, she slid the rest of the way out of her bedroll, silently sheathing her dagger at her side. She crept around the fire and her sleeping companions toward the place she’d hung her cloak on the wall to dry, above her damp boots.
She tugged on her boots, lacing them haphazardly before wrapping the thick fabric of her cloak around her shoulders. With a final glance back in the direction of her sleeping companions, she ventured onward, stepping lightly down the stone corridor that would lead her outside. Cool moonlight filtered through the missing top portion of the door at the end of the hall, though the rest of the ancient wooden door stood fast against the elements.