The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)(38)

“Now for the third one,” Collier said, beaming at her as he raised her into the air again, causing her hair to fan out around her. She was too breathless to speak when he set her down.

“Last part,” he said slyly, bringing up his elbow. He gestured for her to do the same and struck hers opposite with his. “Then back around again, the other way.” She mirrored his movements, their forearms blocking each other as they turned and danced. Then his arm was around her waist and he led her to finish the circle.

She was flushed and giddy with pleasure by the end of it.

“Again!” he shouted, clapping fiercely, sending a feeling of pure pleasure shooting through her.

“My lady,” came a warning voice at her ear. It was Jon Tayt. She turned and saw the look in his eyes, a smoldering brew of anger and panic. Argus growled next to him, pale fur glistening in the torchlight. “The king’s men rode into town just now.”

Her heart lurched. “We must go,” she said.

“I thought the same,” he said through clenched teeth. “Then I found you dancing. We must make haste!”

She did a half curtsy to Feint Collier. “Thank you, sir.”

He stared at her intently, as if he could read through her if only he tried hard enough. “What concerns you? The soldiers? They will not care who is dancing.”

“I must go,” she insisted. The kishion had joined them now, his face a mask of anger and menace.

“The king’s camp is leagues away, if not more,” Collier replied, brushing it off. “There is no need to worry.”

“We left the king’s horses in the stables as you advised,” Jon Tayt replied. “Someone will recognize the brand. We must go. Now!”

“Take the south road then,” Collier said. “The riders come from the north. You remember the password in either case. Go.” He stared hard at Maia and then bowed. “Thank you, my lady. I will treasure the memory.”

“Thank you, Master Collier,” she replied. The kishion handed her a pack and she slung it over her shoulder. They walked briskly to the rear doors of the inn, and the hunter opened them. She glanced back into the common room and saw Feint Collier standing there, arms folded, watching her leave. He had a hard look on his face. He nodded to her once.

She nodded in farewell and stepped into the night.

When the door shut behind her, Jon Tayt’s words were sharp and angry. “My lady Maia, you have been amazingly foolish. Ach,” he half growled, “another moment and we would have been trapped in there. At least twenty men rode into town wearing the king’s livery, swords, and hauberks. Soldiers, my lady. The army is nearer than Collier reckons.”

She swallowed her words and followed them into the night, but she soon noticed they were going east, not south.

“He said the south road—”

“Aye, and because he said it, I will not take it. I warned you from the first not to trust him.”

“He has helped us so far, Jon Tayt.” She felt herself bristling with defensiveness.

“He is the king’s man,” replied the hunter. “The Mark does not suffer traitors, and would not even make an exception for his half brother. I was picking up supplies and keeping an ear open for news when I learned he was here, which alarmed me. He clearly followed us. He is marking our trail to make it easier for the king’s hunters to capture us. Take the south road. By Cheshu!”

She did not tell him about the flower in her saddlebag. She suspected Feint Collier was offering his assistance for another reason altogether, and it flattered her. But Jon Tayt was wise to be so distrusting. She respected him even more for it.

“I was only waiting for you to return,” she answered, trying to keep the peevishness from her voice. “I knew we needed to leave.”

He snorted and spat. “I had taken you for a sensible woman. A rare thing to find, I can tell you that. But I presume you lost your head when the music started, as most women do.” He grumbled to himself. “By Cheshu, dancing with the king’s collier.”

Still, Maia did not regret it. Could not regret it, even if he were right about the nature of Collier’s attentions. The panic she had felt began to subside as the stars twinkled into view in the dark sky above them. In truth, she wished she could have stayed back at the inn, enjoying the cheese and broth. She would have danced all night had she been allowed. All of the years she had practiced and learned the steps were not wasted. She would remember this night, this taste of a life that had been taken from her.

Take the north road.

The whisper in her mind startled her. A sliver of silver moon emerged from the tips of the pine trees at the edge of the town. As she stared at it, her heart burned with emotion from the dance at the inn. She wanted to see Collier again, but that would be foolish. Suddenly, a throb of warning touched her mind and the kystrel started to burn. She stopped walking and clutched her chest, feeling the heat emanating from the amulet.

“What is it?” the kishion asked, noticing her hesitation immediately.

She stared at him, not sure what to say.

“Lady Maia?” Jon Tayt asked with concern.

She grimaced, feeling again the pulse of warmth and warning in her heart. “We must take the north road,” she announced.

Jon Tayt stared at her in stupefaction.

“That puts us on the path to the king’s army,” the kishion said.