Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends #1)(65)

“On a hunt for horses,” she replied.

Raiding. Great. Commonplace piracy threatened to derail my entire trip.

Velloc and I had done plenty of game hunting. I knew all of their favorite stomping grounds, searchable in the span of what remained of the day, but we’d never gone raiding.

“I need a waterskin. Were any men or young boys left behind?”

Dotán nodded. “Ungust is injured and resting. Talorcan stays at the pens tending two mares about to foal.” She disappeared into her dwelling and returned, handing me a filled deerskin pouch. I tucked my head under the long leather strap, securing it diagonally across my chest.

“I’m going to find Velloc. If he returns, tell him to wait here for me.”

Dotán’s shocked expression matched my screaming gut. I’d tipped from the edge of crazy toward insanity.

I patted her shoulder, laughing. “It’ll be okay, Dotán. I promise.” I jogged off, heading to the stables, not sure if I’d been trying to reassure her or me.

A pregnant bay mare, heavy with her distended belly, stood in the shade of a rowan tree laden with creamy-white flowers. She raised her head, interrupting her afternoon snack of tall blades of grass, her ears swiveling at my approach without much concern. My sprint-induced gasping breaths had likely alerted her of my presence long before my arrival.

I poked my head into the teepees and scanned the area, searching for Talorcan. With no sign of him anywhere, I went to the stream. The teenage boy, about fifteen years old, napped on a flat rock shaded by an overhanging ledge, his reddish-brown hair fanned around his head.

“Talorcan!”

The boy bolted straight up, scrambling to his feet as if he’d been caught sleeping on the job. I laughed. He had.

“I need you to take me to the raiding party.”

He squinted at me, the lunacy of my suggestion registering on his face. He shook his head. “I’m to birth the remaining foal.”

“Did you birth the first one?” I asked in a clipped tone.

He grinned proudly. The expression gave his face a ruggedly handsome quality over his boyish charm. “Yes.”

“And did you need to do anything? Did you touch the mare? Did you have to pull the foal out? Did you assist in any way?”

His face fell as his gears turned.

I continued, helping my cause. “Aren’t older men tending the sheep, cattle, and horse herds?” I remembered seeing two of them in the fields as I confidently spoke the words.

Without answering my redundant questions, Talorcan whirled around and charged toward the pasture behind the stables where a few horses remained, including Malibu. I smiled.

That’s the spirit. If I’d had an opportunity to choose a guide, a determined one on a mission to prove his worth suited me perfectly.

While I waited, I unsheathed the knife strapped to my thigh, cutting a few inches off the end of the leather strap on my waterskin. With efficiency, I tied my unruly locks into a ponytail at the nape of my neck.

By the time I’d secured my hair, Talorcan had mounted, nearly tearing off without me. I jumped toward his horse, waving my arms, and yanked on a rein to ensure his compliance.

I glared up at the kid. “I’m going with you.”

He scowled in protest.

“Take me with you. Have you thought to bring weapons?”

He grunted. Hotheaded and young, two things had escaped his reasoning; I’d demonstrated my value by pointing them out to him.

“You will come with me,” he commanded.

How magnanimous of you to offer. I watched as the cocky kid dismounted. He crossed the field to one of the teepees, emerging with weapons for himself.

I charged over to him, shaking my head. “Oh, like hell. I’m not your guide. You are mine. Bring whatever you want to protect yourself, but I’m arming up like no woman you’ve ever seen.” I pointed to across the field. “Harness the dappled gray for me.”

He grumbled behind me, but a glance over my shoulder confirmed he’d angled off to retrieve Malibu.

I stepped into the round, sown-skin structure and found an assortment of weapons: swords, axes, knives, bows and arrows, shields, and arrowhead-tipped spears. I scanned the collection, spotting my training pieces that were separated from the rest on the end. Velloc had been the last to touch them. I imagined him laying them down with care—the ax on the ground, the short sword’s scabbard crossed over the ax’s wooden handle.

Even though Velloc had trained me with them, they were, in every way, deadly weapons with blades honed razor-sharp. I grasped the handles, feeling the perfect weight and balance in each hand. I fastened the scabbard to my hip and strapped the ax to an outer shin with scraps of leather.

On a just-in-case thought, I grabbed a bow and quiver and a couple of thick furs. I pushed the flap aside and stepped out, tossing one of two small shields to Talorcan. He snapped out his arm, catching the disk. I attached my shield to the bow and quiver strapped across my back.

My guide sparked my curiosity, and I cocked my head to the side, evaluating him. A lean, muscular build and quick reflexes indicated someone physically ready to fight, but the men had left him behind. His reasoning skills would sharpen with experience, but Talorcan’s eagerness to correct the situation of being overlooked suggested he didn’t fear any repercussions of charging off to join the raiding party by shirking an assigned duty. Brave, and perhaps stupid . . . but it worked to my advantage.