He nodded, pressing his heels against his horse to urge it onward. “Just a scratch.”
She stared at him like she didn’t quite believe him. He noticed how her hair formed a tangled nest around her head, and how thin she’d grown from their long travels, yet her concern was for everyone else.
“If only my powers were meant for healing instead of violence and destruction, perhaps I’d be more useful,” she lamented.
Iseult patted her arm where it rested around his waist. “You just saved our lives. There would be no one to heal if we were all dead.”
Kai nearly laughed. He’d never expected such comforting words to grace Iseult’s lips. Although, Iseult’s cold expression did not invite further comment.
Finn nodded at Iseult’s comment, but continued to watch Kai with a worried expression, bobbing gently from the horse’s relaxed gait.
“Let’s put more distance between ourselves and those assassins before we worry about anything else,” Kai advised, wanting her attention off him. If he was going to die, then that was his fate. There was no need to worry everyone when there was nothing more to be done.
She nodded, though she continued looking back over her shoulder at him before gazing further down the path, presumably hoping Ealasaid would come riding up at any moment. Each time she glanced at him, he tried to give a reassuring smile, but suspected it came out as more of a cringe. It was all he could do to remain in his saddle.
Eventually they rode far enough to reach the end of the snow. Kai’s wound had stopped bleeding beneath the makeshift bandage, but he felt dizzy and ill. Hopefully a good night’s rest would help him recover, though the worried glances of Anna and Finn begged to differ. They watched him like he might topple from his horse any moment. They might not be wrong.
Hoping to reach civilization by nightfall, the party ate their meals while riding. Kai found himself wishing they’d procured some whiskey from the ruins of Migris. The pain in his wound had faded to a dull throb, but his mind was beginning to tire of dealing with it.
The sky was black by the time the scent of cookfires reached Kai’s nose. A moment later he exhaled with relief as the gentle glow of illuminated windows came into view.
“Badenmar,” Iseult said simply, then gave Kai a stern look over his shoulder, the harsh moonlight accentuating his expression.
Ah yes, it was quite clear that Iseult also remembered what happened the last time they were in Badenmar. For some time afterward, Kai suspected Iseult had plans to kill him, but that suspicion had slowly passed. Though they would never be friends, a peculiar form of trust had grown between them. A trust that might soon be for naught if he keeled over and died.
Iseult pulled the hood of his cloak up to shadow his face before continuing onward, as did Finn. Kai should really have done the same given An Fiach was looking for him too, but the people of Badenmar would likely grow suspicious if their entire group refused to show their faces. Fortunately, Kai had no overly distinguishable features. He was of average height, with average, chestnut colored hair. Iseult, however, stood out with his height and black hair. It was likely fortunate they’d parted ways with Maarav, because the two of them together tended to draw attention.
They continued on toward the lights and scented air. Sativola rode between Kai and Anna, looking glum but determined. “One of the two of ye better be buying me a dram,” he grumbled, sitting stiff on his horse to avoid extra pressure on his leg wound.
“You should be thanking me,” Anna replied. “If I hadn’t hired you in Migris, you might have been there during the attack. The few scrapes you’ve suffered are nothing compared to what those people experienced.”
Sativola sighed. “I suppose yer right on that. Still, I wish I’d had the time to hire on with a crew in Ainfean. No offense meant, but trouble seems to follow ye all around. Who knows what might happen next?”
“Quiet,” Iseult ordered as they approached the small town. “I don’t want to hear anyone muttering their true names, where we’ve come from, or where we’re going. More soldiers of An Fiach could already be waiting here.”
“Plus, you’re likely still wanted for murder,” Kai added.
Iseult sighed. “I imagine the townsfolk barely remember that, after all that’s happened in the countryside.”
Sativola leaned toward Kai and whispered, “Murder?” but Kai simply shook his head in reply. Everyone fell silent and moved their horses close together to fit on the narrow road leading into the burgh. On their last visit, the burgh had been in the midst of festivities. Now, the small cluster of farms and homes was near silent, though many torches still burned throughout the square, as if to ward away the night.
They rode toward the inn where they’d previously stayed in a storeroom. Kai had a feeling there would be plenty of proper rooms available that night. There didn’t seem to be an overabundance of inhabitants in the village.
Reaching the tall wooden walls of the inn, all but Kai dismounted. There was no stableboy out waiting to take the horses to the stalls mounted on the side of the inn, so instead all reins were handed to Bedelia.
“We should probably take turns guarding the horses throughout the night,” Anna suggested. “We wouldn’t want them stolen away by village folk hoping to escape to one of the larger cities.”
“Yes,” was Iseult’s only reply.
Kai looked down at the ground, which seemed exceedingly far away given how he was currently feeling. He would have liked to avoid falling once he attempted to dismount, but it felt like a likely possibility.
As if sensing his predicament, Sativola moved to stand beside his horse, and offered his meaty arm. Frowning at the hit his pride was about to take, he allowed Sativola to brace him while he climbed down from the saddle, flexing his wound uncomfortably. The movement brought on a wave of pain, and darkness ate at his vision.
A second pair of hands took hold of his other arm, keeping him upright, then the world went black.
Chapter Eight
Anna glared down at Kai’s sweaty face, his features slack with unconsciousness. If only the fool had expressed how badly his wound was affecting him, they could have better tended him sooner. She could just kill him . . . if he wasn’t already dying.
Finn sat on the other side of the bed on which he rested, in one of the cozy, warm rooms they’d purchased from the innkeep. Her long hair was a snarled mess, and deep bags marred the skin beneath her dark hazel eyes, occasionally flickering with reflected firelight. Anna imagined her own features showed the same strain as Finn’s. Yet, neither of them looked as bad as Kai.
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Finn questioned softly, her eyes intent on the man between them.
Anna stood and removed the damp cloth from Kai’s forehead, replacing it with another from a nearby washbasin. Once they’d dragged him inside the inn, she’d realized his skin was burning with fever. Not a good sign when accompanied by severe injuries. Rough blankets were pulled only halfway up his body. Anna had raised and lowered them several times, unsure if it was best to keep his body warm, or try to cool him down. Occasionally he mumbled with fever dreams.
She resumed her seat in the same type of wooden chair Finn rested in. “There’s no saying. If he makes it through morning he may be fine, as long as infection doesn’t set in.”
Finn looked about ready to cry, and Anna sincerely wished she wouldn’t. She’d never been good around tears, and Kai was the one who needed her care right now, not Finn. She widened her eyes to deny their own sudden watering, then had an idea.