But he was riled. Oh yes, he was riled, and he was… most sharply concerned.
Striding back to his own tent, he grabbed his sword and cloak and sent for Jermaine with orders to assemble a team. When the trackers arrived, they moved to the edge of camp and worked with the dogs to get a fix on Lily’s scent. Gordon hadn’t yet disposed of her cloak, and once the dogs had the scent, the trackers loosed them.
Eagerly they leaped to the hunt, and within moments their simple trajectory became clear. As Wulf and his team followed them down the road, to the docks, his most sharp concern withered on the vine while his anger grew.
When the dogs stopped at the end of the dock, one bayed its frustration.
Wulf knew how the dog felt. Planting his fists on his hips, he glared at the abbey. In the gray, cold morning, the warm golden light glowing from its windows taunted him.
Lily had gotten to the dock, past two—no, three—sets of sentries and witches. She hadn’t used any of the barges. No, those barges were too much for one small woman to handle.
So how had she done it? How had she gotten from the mainland dock to that blasted island?
He had no idea, but he was by gods going to ask just as soon as he saw her again. Because he would see her again. He would make damn sure of it.
Tripling the military presence at the wharf, he stalked back to his tent and ate his cold breakfast and drank his cold tea.
He drank her cold mug of tea too while his restless thoughts chewed through possible courses of action.
Last night they had said things to each other. The most important communication had been nonverbal, but the body language she had used had been all too clear. And that conversation wasn’t over yet. It had, in fact, barely begun.
She did not get to walk away from him. That was not an acceptable scenario in any hypothetical reality.
She had agreed to be his liaison. She didn’t get to back out of that just because she felt like it. He would tell her when he was done with her. She didn’t tell him.
His gaze fell on the neat stacks of caviar jars and chocolate bars that had survived the previous night’s altercation, along with the strange, ugly can of Chef Boyardee.
“Commander!” Lionel threw back the tent flap and stuck his head in. “A large party just launched from the abbey. Two barges, sir.”
Wulf grabbed up his cloak and weapons again. “How many?”
“Looks to be around thirty people. The prime minister is one of them. Even at that distance, her red hair is unmistakable.”
He buckled on his sword. “Any sign of my priestess?”
He heard how that sounded after the words had left his mouth, and paused, then thought, Hell, yes. She’s my priestess, and they’d better give her back.
Lionel shook his head. “They’re too far away to tell.”
“Thirty people,” he repeated grimly. That probably meant several witches, and all of them were going to be better rested and much more highly skilled than any of his. “Muster two hundred troops and cavalry and set up a barricade at the wharf.”
“Yes, sir!”
Wulf sent for his horse and resumed pacing. He was not going to stand on that dock, waiting for her to reappear like some pining lapdog. The Wolf of Braugne didn’t panic or pine, gods damn it.
When he judged enough time had passed, he mounted his stallion and cantered to the wharf. He had gauged correctly, and the barges were just beginning to dock.
Margot Givegny glared at him from the foremost barge. “You have no right to keep us from moving freely on our own land. Move out of our way, Commander.”
Planting one fist on his thigh, he held his restless horse from plunging back and forth and bit out, “If I had a liaison to explain your intentions, I might be persuaded to shift aside and let you go about your business. However, I don’t have a liaison any longer. She slipped out of my encampment like a thief in the night.”
“She’s not your servant,” Margot retorted. “She has the right to come and go as she sees fit. None of us are subject to you.”
“Well, then.” His voice turned silken while he gave her a dark smile. “I don’t see how I could let your people pass. After all, without proper representation, how can I be sure you don’t mean to attack us?”
Margot’s mouth fell open. “For the gods’ sake, man, you’ve got an army of eight thousand troops. What kind of damage do you think we could hope to accomplish against you?”
His smile fell away. Dismounting, he threw the reins to Lionel and strode to the edge of the dock.
“A solitary man tried to poison Lily and me last night. Two men working together have caused illness to run through hundreds of my troops. I count seven women in your party who are not wearing Defender uniforms. That means seven priestesses, who, I assume, are also Powerful witches.” He gave her a cold, hard look. “So you tell me just how much damage you could accomplish.”
7
The sprinkle of freckles across Margot’s nose and cheeks stood out. As he had spoken, she had paled visibly.
Swallowing hard, she whispered, “Someone tried to poison both of you?”
She was too clearly shaken for it to be an act. His eyes narrowed. It appeared Lily had a lot of explaining to do to more than just him.
He pointed at both barges. “Lily said no one from the island would want to leave as long as we were here. Why are you here? What has changed, and why should I allow you to set foot on land?”
Instantly, she bounded back on form again. Glaring at him, she switched to telepathy. Keep in mind, Commander—I don’t owe you an explanation for anything, and you have no right to prevent us from moving about on our own land, so have a care for how far you push me.
Even as she scolded, he knew she had switched to telepathy for a reason. Planting his feet wide, he crossed his arms. And?
Our Chosen has ordered me to send six teams to hunt down the weather mages and stop them by any means necessary. A hint of vengeful satisfaction flashed through her narrowed gaze. So by preventing us from following our orders, you are actually hurting yourself more than anyone.
He uncrossed his arms. She agreed to help us.
No, Commander. Margot shook her head. We are not offering help to you or affiliating ourselves with anyone. We are only committing to uphold the law and to aid any farmsteads who may be in jeopardy. Our Chosen doesn’t want to see innocent people die.
Bending, he offered his hand. She hesitated for a long moment before she grasped it, and he lifted her unceremoniously onto the dock. “Well, let me help you. I can provide backup to every team.”
“No, Commander.” Turning, she gestured, and the others disembarked. “We will deal with this on our own.”
Frowning, he watched as the teams formed in a line. There was one priestess, or witch, and three Defenders in each team. “Weather mages are Powerful magic users. Going after them will be dangerous work.”