Kindred by Donna Grant

Author:Donna Grant [Grant, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DL Grant, LLC

11

Rory rubbed a hand along Abhain’s shoulder as the stallion drank from a stream. They had stopped to rest and eat. His gaze found Asa. She sat on a fallen tree, her eyes skyward, worry tightening her lips. Her anxiety rose with every hour Frida remained absent.

“Something has happened to her,” Asa said in a soft voice.

Rory didn’t have magic or any special gifts. All he had was his sword, and that couldn’t help Asa locate her beloved owl. “Then we look for her.”

“After the battle.” Asa looked at the ground, her face lined with sorrow.

Abhain’s head jerked up suddenly. His ears pricked forward, and water dripped from his mouth as he stared across the stream. Rory wrapped his fingers around the pommel of his sword and scanned the trees. The stallion stood still as stone, his nostrils widened to sniff the air.

The loud cry of a falcon sounded close. Rory never took his eyes off the trees where Abhain stared. Something was out there, but he didn’t know if it was friend or foe. He hoped it wasn’t more wolves. If it was anything friendly, they surely would’ve announced themselves by now.

Abhain knickered in warning and backed up a step. That was when Rory saw the wolf lean out from behind a tree, showing half its face. The falcon let out another long cry. Rory slowly unsheathed his sword and held it down at his side.

He heard the flap of wings as if the bird were right beside him, but he refused to look away from the predator who watched them. If there was one wolf, there was a pack. But then Asa’s soft laugh caught his attention. He glanced at her, only to do a double take.

The raptor perched on her forearm. She held the falcon close to her chest as she stroked its dark slate-gray and white feathers while looking into its dark eyes. Her lips spread into a smile before her gaze lifted to Rory. “Sheath your weapon.”

“There are wolves,” he warned her.

“There’s only one,” said a deep voice from Rory’s left. “His name is Valdr.”

Rory scanned the woods until he located the figure leaning against a tree with a staff in one hand. The man was tall and stood confidently, his gaze direct. A warrior, then. He wore brown leather pants and a jerkin. His long, blond hair fell to his shoulders, the top half bound behind his head. His eyes where the palest blue Rory had ever seen.

A rustle of leaves pulled his attention away from the newcomer to see the wolf leap over the stream to stand beside the man. The warrior sank his fingers into the wolf’s thick fur. The falcon cried out again before flying directly to the man and perching atop the staff.

“Jarin,” Asa said.

The warrior didn’t take his gaze from Rory. “You look as if you could hold your own. If there was time, I’d suggest we see just how long you could stay standing against me.”

Rory remembered where he had heard that name before.

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