Page 33 of Fang & Fury

Ailsa rose to her feet and crossed to where Darach’s stallion patiently waited, eyes gleaming in the firelight. She then ran a hand over Rùn’s sweat-slick shoulder. “Aye,” she murmured. “You did well, lad.”

The stallion snorted. In the cold cave, steam rose from his coat. He needed to be unsaddled, rubbed down, watered, and fed.

Wordlessly, she led him over to the recess, removing the saddle and bridle and slipping on a rope halter while he snatched at hay. There were two pails of water in here too, one for each horse. Fern had indeed prepared well.

The two women worked side by side in silence.

Several times, Ailsa caught Kayla looking at her, and Ailsa tensed in response.

Did she wish to comment on what she’d seen before the gates of the fort—how Ailsa had been about to drink from that warrior? And she would have too, if Kayla hadn’t hauled her to her feet.

Perhaps, yet something made her hold back. Maybe she didn’t know where to begin, and Ailsa certainly didn’t know how to answer her.

She had no answers for herself either.

Silence was just easier.

But as she checked Rùn’s hooves, the way she’d seen Darach do countless times before, she admitted that there was more to the awkwardness between her and Kayla this evening. During their time in captivity, Ailsa had built a barrier between them, and she didn’t know how to tear it down.

Meanwhile, Fern put more wood on the fire. Welcoming golden light now flooded the cave, chasing away the cold and damp.

The horses seen to, Kayla and Ailsa approached the fire, lowering themselves cross-legged onto furs that Fern had arranged around the hearth and warming their hands over the hungry flames.

“Why would your people build a refuge here?” Kayla’s voice was husky with exhaustion; however, curiosity glinted in her gaze as it roamed Fern’s face.

She didn’t hide her fascination for Fern, and Ailsa didn’t blame her. She too had found it difficult not to stare when they first met.

“We’ve always needed sanctuary from your people,” Fern replied with a shrug. “For decades, the High King of Albia hunted us in the North. His enforcers were relentless. This cave allowed us to hide if we found ourselves in the eastern Uplands with danger closing in.”

Ailsa nodded. She’d heard of those days.

Indeed, although the current High Queen didn’t hunt Shee, her father had. Talorc mac Brude was responsible for the deaths of many of them.

Fern pulled a bladder of wine from a leather sack then and handed it to Ailsa. “You look as if you could do with—” Her voice cut off then, her spine straightening.

Rising swiftly to her feet, she drew the slender blade she’d retrieved from her bag earlier. Sheehallion steel gleamed silvery white in the torchlight.

“What is it?” Kayla asked as she pushed herself to her feet and reached for her own weapon.

Of course, neither woman had heard anything, yet Fern’s sharp hearing had.

Then Ailsa caught the scuff of feet on stone.

An instant later, a tall, broad-shouldered figure emerged from the shadowy passageway that led to the entrance.

Darach stepped out into the torchlight.

Muddy, scratched, and completely naked.

11: THINGS WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT

STANDING INSIDE THE cave, bathed by the welcome glow of firelight, Darach became aware of three female sets of eyes fixed upon him.

No one spoke.

He was suddenly conscious of the mud drying on his skin, the blood caked beneath his nails, and the reek of shit that still clung to him.

Aye, he looked and smelled terrible, yet he didn’t care. His limbs felt heavy as lead, and every muscle ached with bone-deep exhaustion.