Chapter Fourteen
“Ye said your cousin’s keep was just o’er these hills. Ye didnae say these hills were endless,” Moira grumbled as she sat down on a moss-covered rock. “We have been crossing them for two cursed days.”
“We had to take a winding route to avoid Iver’s men,” Tavig reminded her as he finished milking the goat and handed Moira Adair’s noon feeding. “If Iver’s hired dogs dinnae block our way at every turning, we will reach Mungan’s keep by day’s end on the morrow.”
Frowning at Tavig over the contentedly drinking Adair, Moira said, “I really hadnae thought those men would pursue us with such vigor and determination.”
“Iver is offering a heavy purse in ransom for me. Then, too, they dinnae wish to return to Iver without their quarry. Iver isnae one who forgives failures. Since two of the men are now marked with wounds, Iver will easily guess that the men had had me in their grasp but lost me. He willnae believe them if they try to deny it. It could weel be that they see finding me as a matter of life and death.”
“That would certainly explain their persistence. Of course, if they keep riding about they will soon have to halt and take time to bury those two wounded men. They cannae survive much longer without rest and care.”
“I wouldnae wager on the others stopping to bury anyone.” He shrugged when her eyes widened with a hint of shock.
“They dinnae possess even that much delicacy of feeling. They fight weel together, but not one of them would exert himself or put himself at risk for another. In truth, if they gained the price Iver offers for me, they would undoubtedly take to killing each other over it. The only thing that binds them together is that they have all been cast out by their own clans.”
“They will follow us to Mungan Coll’s verra gates, willnae they?”
“I expect them to be putting themselves between us and Mungan. They have to have guessed that I am traveling there.”
“Then I pray I am right in assuming ye have some plan to slip us past them safely.”
“One or two—aye. Dinnae worry so, sweet Moira. We do have one advantage.”
“Over six armed and mounted men? I should like to hear what it is.”
“They willnae want to be seen by Mungan or his men. Mungan will recognize who and what they are and will be eager to cut them down. ’Tis a small advantage, true enough but better a small one than none at all.”
Moira nodded but inwardly sighed. She had not given much thought to what Iver’s men would do once they discovered their prize was gone.
She certainly had not imagined the dogged pursuit she and Tavig had been struggling to evade for two exhausting nights and days.
The food they had brought from the last village was nearly gone, for they had not been able to light a fire to cook up their porridge.
Even a small fire could be seen by Iver’s men and lead them right to her and Tavig.
They had been hunted from the beginning of their long journey, but never like this.
Now her fear for Tavig was a constant sour taste in her mouth.
She feared for herself and Adair as well, but not as strongly.
Moira knew Tavig would do exactly what he had done before, put himself in the hands of his enemy in order to give her and his son a chance to reach safety.
She feared that most of all, for she was certain her sense of guilt would become crippling.
It was bad enough already, for she knew that caring for her and Adair slowed Tavig down.
“Mayhap ye should leave us here, Tavig, and go onto Mungan alone,” she suggested as she set aside Adair’s empty feeder and proceeded with the ritual of rubbing his back.
Tavig stared at her, then rolled his eyes. “There are times, lass, when ye say the most foolish things.”
“There is nothing foolish about it. Ye cannae deny that Adair and I slow ye down and make ye less, weel, agile. Without us ye could probably slip right past those men.”
“And what are ye to do whilst I save myself?”
“We will wait here until ye can get some help to come back for us.”
“And what will ye do if Iver’s dogs stumble upon ye and the bairn? What if those wolves we have heard in the night come sniffing about? Ye cannae light a fire to ward them off without telling Andrew where ye are. I am not even sure ye ken how to start a fire.”
“I have watched ye do it for nearly a fortnight. I am sure I can do it.”
Moira inwardly cursed. He was making what had sounded like a good idea appear as foolish as he claimed it was.
She had not expected him to be gone long enough for her to face any real danger, but she realized she had not thought far enough ahead.
It would undoubtedly take him most of a day.
She would be alone for at least one night, and she dreaded the thought—but she could not tell him that.
“I didnae wish to be responsible for your capture once again,” she said.
“Ye werenae responsible for my capture.”
“Nay? If we hadnae been with you, ye could have easily eluded those men. Instead ye had to put yourself right in their path so that they wouldnae find Adair and me. It could happen again.” She frowned when he crouched by her side and kissed her cheek. “What was that for?”
“For ye caring so much about my welfare.” He gently poked Adair in the ribs, causing the child to giggle and bounce around in Moira’s hold. “We will stay together. Mungan’s keep is barely a half day’s journey from here.”
“Aye, if our hunters dinnae force ye to change direction yet again.” She sighed, trying to force down the anxiety that made her temper flare. “I am sorry, Tavig. I grow weary of running and hiding.”
“As do I, loving. Howbeit, we have been doing that since we fell off that ship.”
“But not like this. We havenae had the hunters nipping at our heels, making us afraid to light even a small fire.”
Tavig sat down beside her, slipped his arm about her shoulders, and held her close against his side.
He understood what troubled her. The same feeling gnawed at him.
Iver’s hirelings had never been so close for so long.
He felt like a rabbit pursued by a hunter, all the entrances to its lair blocked, so that it ran in circles until it dropped.
Mungan and safety were just within reach, yet he and Moira had to take so many twists and turns to elude their pursuers they were adding miles to their journey.
At times it was difficult not to do something reckless in a vain attempt to shake free of Iver’s mercenaries.
“We will get to Mungan’s, lass. ’Tis just proving a wee bit more difficult than I had planned for.” He ruffled Adair’s thick curls. “The lad is done. Shall we continue?”
“Aye, let us try to get a few steps closer.” Moira sighed as she put Adair back into his sling and stood up. “Pay me no heed, Tavig. I am in a sour temper.”
“No need to apologize, loving. My temper isnae much sweeter.” He started down the hill, praying that this time they could stay to their chosen path.
“Ye hide it a great deal better than I do.”
“Mayhap. If I could ease my temper with words, though, ye would be hearing a multitude of them. That wouldnae help soothe the fury twisting my belly, however. I need to act. Right now, I would like to find those hirelings Iver sent after us and kill them—slowly.”
Moira’s eyes widened as she followed him.
There had been a wealth of cold anger in his voice.
She now realized there were clear if faint signs of the anger churning inside of Tavig.
It was there to see in the taut lines of his face, in the way he moved, even in the way he yanked the goat along, not catering to the animal’s obstinance in any way.
She felt guilty for having been so caught up in her own feelings of frustration, weariness, and anger that she had paid no heed to how he felt.
She promised herself she would cease to complain. It did make her feel a little better to express her feelings, releasing her emotions with bitter words. Tavig did not really need to be troubled with that pettiness, however.
Her good intentions were hard to maintain when, barely an hour later, Tavig hurriedly ushered her into the shelter of some large rocks and gnarled trees.
This had happened so often in the last two days that she knew exactly what it meant.
Iver’s mercenaries were near at hand—again.
She was beginning to truly hate those men.
“Where are they now?” she asked.
“Not far to the left of us. They have chosen an easy path down the hill,” Tavig answered.
“Mayhap we should follow them for a change.” She frowned when Tavig stared at her. “’Twas only a poor jest born of my ill temper. I am sorry. I had promised myself that I would cease to plague ye with it.”
Tavig laughed softly, giving her a quick, hard kiss. “Ye werenae plaguing me. And this time ye have come up with a truly inspired idea.”
“What do ye mean?” Moira wondered if the strain of the last few days had disordered his mind.
“Lass, where is the last place those fools would think to look for us?” When she just continued to stare at him as if he had lost all of his wits, he answered his own question.
“They willnae look behind themselves. They would never expect us to follow on their heels. We should be running for our lives, not trailing along the same path they are. Ye dinnae understand what I am saying?” he asked when she still said nothing.
“Oh, I understand. I was just thinking that it could be verra risky. It will put us verra close to them.”
“We are verra close to them now, dearling. Any closer, and they could smell us.”
“If we do follow them, what happens when they stop? Ye said they wouldnae go near Mungan’s keep, that they willnae wish to be seen by Mungan or his men. That means they will stop short of where we wish to be, and we will have to get around them ere we can travel the rest of the way to your cousin.”