Dragon Kin by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Author:Tracy Cooper-Posey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ancient history, romance, historical romance, Arthurian
Publisher: Tracy Cooper-Posey
Published: 2018-07-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The journey to Carnac via Étel took only two days, when it should have taken four. Ilsa found the journey easier than she had expected. The coastal lands were flat and windswept, with only sea grasses and sand underfoot, stretching back from the sea for miles. There were no trees for thieves to hide in and surprise them, which let the men relax.

Nimue picked her way across the land, following signs and markers invisible to Ilsa. Nimue would change directions and head inland, which puzzled Ilsa, until they rounded the end of a deep bay which would have cut off their progress if they had continued south. At other times, Nimue led them into marshes, dotted with picked-over carcasses of animals caught in the treacherous bogs. Each time, Nimue found a hard-packed causeway through the marshes indistinguishable from the rest of the muddy landscape. They would follow her in single file, stretched out for a half-mile behind her, each horse following the tail of the one before.

They reached Étel an hour before sunset. It was a tiny village of three round huts, each with a large family wearing skins and leathers. The village sat on the headland over a mighty river. As Colwyn and his officers inspected the river and muttered to themselves, Nimue announced they would camp here for the night. She seemed to be unconcerned about the impassable river.

Ilsa gathered the women together. They set out the leather sheets and furs they had strapped to the back of their horses, placing them in a tight circle. A fire was set in the middle. Almost as if they had rehearsed it, the officers and soldiers settled their gear in a larger circle enclosing them and struck campfires on the outside perimeter.

Stilicho and his three slaves hung pots over the fires to warm stew they had brought with them in wide-mouthed water skins. As the sun lowered over the sea and turned it red, the meal was declared ready.

Afterward, the outer guards passed wineskins and built the fires high.

Arawn came to where Ilsa had laid her skins and furs. “I would speak with you, alone, madam.” His tone was courteous. “You will be safe enough with me.” He touched the hilt of his great sword, then held his left hand out to her.

Ilsa took his hand and he hoisted her to her feet. She bent and retrieved her cloak from beneath the warm furs and pulled it around her. It was much cooler beyond the radius of the big fires.

Arawn walked beyond the rope lines of horses to where they could see the moon shining on the sea. Ilsa looked behind them at the camp. No one watched them.

Farther toward the seaside cliff was the soft sound of a sword being drawn. A quiet challenge sounded.

“It is I. Arawn,” Arawn replied.

The sentry shifted and in the moonlight Ilsa saw the sword slide back into the scabbard.

Arawn smiled at her expression. “There are a dozen sentries all around us, to give an early alert if someone should be drawn to the flames tonight.

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