“Christ a’mighty, what about Bjorn and Cormick? They’re going to look like bloody fools demandin’ ransom for a woman who comes dancin’ through the gatehouse with two of the finest ’orses in the land!” Odell spit disgustedly into the fire and the flames crackled and hissed. “By thunder, Wolf, sometimes I donna know what goes through that stubborn ’ead of yers!”
“Bjorn and Cormick will return before Megan reaches Dwyrain.”
“You ’ope; elsewise, they might be in for the fight of their lives!” Odell made a sound of disgust deep in his throat.
“He’s right about that,” Peter agreed, his one good eye clouding with concern.
“ ’Olt’ll torture ’em, sure as I’m an honest man.” He threw his hood over his head again.
Jagger snorted. “We know how honest ye be, Odell.”
The older man spit again. “ ’Olt, ’e’ll use the rack or worse. Pokers, heated in a fire, or the press, or ’eaven only knows what else. Whatever it is, ’twill be wicked.” His eyes glowed as hot as the coals in the campfire. “I’ve ’eard stories about ’im cuttin’ out men’s tongues or slicin’ off their cocks and—”
“Enough!” Wolf commanded. He’d take a bit of ribbing—that was to be expected—but no one could accuse him of putting his men’s lives in jeopardy. Striding to the fire, he warmed his hands and feet. His toes were numb, near frozen from wading across icy streams. “We ride at dawn, Jagger and me. The rest of you will stay here and guard the camp in case Cormick and Bjorn return and somehow we miss them. If no one returns in three days, move the camp to the hills behind Prydd. I’ll find you.”
“Nay, I’ll not be left behind—”
Wolf’s harsh glare stopped Odell’s quick tongue. With a sheepish glance, he lifted his cowl and scratched his balding head.
Robin’s chin jutted forward. “Ye said I could ride with ye,” he reminded Wolf.
“When it came time to deal with Holt.”
“Be ye a liar?” the boy insisted.
“Nay, but—”
“Ye promised,” Robin said stubbornly.
“That ye did,” Peter reminded him, and Wolf’s fists clenched.
“Is yer word not good?” Robin asked, and again the men stared at him.
Knowing he was making a mistake, Wolf nodded. “Aye, you ride as well … but no one else,” he added when he saw an eager light appear in more than one man’s eyes. It had been long since they’d battled; many were thirsty for the excitement of waging war. “We’ll ride straight to Dwyrain. Once there, we’ll help Cormick and Bjorn if they need it.”
“What of the lady?” Robin asked boldly, and the men who had been restless suddenly quieted, only the wind rushing through the leafless branches and stirring up the flames of the campfire making any sound.
“What of her?”
“Will ye not bring her with you when ye return?”
Two dozen eyes bored into him and Wolf realized then that she’d touched each of the men in special ways. Damn her. “Nay,” he said gruffly as he read bitter disappointment on the boy’s young face.
“But—”
“She wants not to be with us, lad.”
Squatting near the fire, Wolf stared into the flames, and that hopeless idea settled as surely as lead in his heart. Why had he been so foolish, thinking she could care for a rogue like him? When had he lost his heart to the saucy tart with a tongue that could sting like a whip? ’Twas a silly notion to think that she could really care for him, and Wolf didn’t appreciate being considered a fool.
Nor could he explain why he’d let her go, how he’d felt as if he were a self-serving king holding a rare, unhappy bird in a cage. She was a noblewoman by birth and could not be expected to give up everything that she had at Dwyrain—wealth, family, servants, even a husband—because an outlaw fancied her. It had taken every bit of his willpower to let her leave after making love to her, but his instincts told him he had no choice.
If she escaped and returned to Holt, the bastard might not harm her, though the fact that she wasn’t a virgin would be difficult to disguise and would enrage Holt even more. Wolf’s jaw tightened when he imagined his old enemy taking out his vexation, vengeance, and anger on Megan.
Holt had better not be so foolish, for if the bastard ever laid one hand on her, Wolf would gladly slit his throat. And then again, if Holt truly became Megan’s husband, joining feverishly with her … getting her with child … By the gods, what a mess. Already, Megan could be carrying the first beginnings of their own babe. His throat turned as dry as seeds in the wind. What if even now there was a child growing in her womb? Would Holt claim the infant child as his own issue?
His fury became dark, his eyes narrowing with a newfound reason to hate his old enemy. Rage burned bright in his blood and his fingers curled anxiously around the hilt of his sword as he thought of it, the mating of Holt and Megan. ’Twould be a pain he would never be able to expunge, one he would bear as his own personal cross, one he would carry with him to the grave.
He felt the men’s stares and scowled to himself. Life as an outlaw in the woods had lost much of the appeal that had once been strong within him. There were several men in the band who were capable of leading the others. Bjorn was strong and fierce, a levelheaded man capable of extreme savagery if ’twas necessary. Jagger, too, was strong, though somewhat dim-witted, and then there was Odell, with his mercenary heart. Nay, he’d be a bad choice.