Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Follow behind me,” Brock ordered but had no chance to step in front of her.
Four growling, white hounds, their eyes blazing red emerged from the woods blocking their path.
Argue with Death.
Fia heard the voice clearly in her head, reminding her of what her grandmother had done… argued with Death. Besides, they had no other recourse.
Fia took quick steps forward, shaking the dagger clutched in her hand at the hounds. “Death will not take us! We will not surrender! He cannot have us! We refuse him! Begone with you and take my command to Arawn! NOW!”
The hounds stopped growling and slunk back into the forest never taking their eyes off Fia.
She gasped lightly, amazed the hounds did not attack them. Her head shot up when she heard Sinead’s cry and she hurried to stretch out her arm and wrap part of her cloak around it as the hawk glided down toward her. She landed with grace to perch on Fia’s arm, and Fia could have sworn the bird nodded at her as if letting her know she had done well.
When she turned, it was to face a shocked and pale Brock.
“You commanded the hounds from hell. You are a powerful witch,” Brock said in awe.
It was not something Fia wanted to hear.
The sounds of horses’ hooves pounding the earth broke the uneasy moment as did Sinead’s squawk.
Fia was ever so relieved to see her husband lead his warriors past the numerous clusters of trees, some branches heavy with snow, toward her and Brock.
As warrior after warrior circled them, Brock shouted, “Lady Fia commanded the hounds from hell, sent them slinking away, and saved us! She is a powerful witch!”
CHAPTER 15
Fia saw the anger swirling in his blue eyes and felt the sting of it when he settled her on his horse in front of him. He issued orders and left Argus to deal with them and said not a word to her as they rode toward home.
She was still growing accustomed to her husband, still learning to trust him, and not be intimidated by him, not an easy task. He was a compelling and a complicated man, a challenge to be sure.
She hoped an apology might ease his anger. After all, she should not have been so foolish to believe Brother Luke.
Tilting her head to the side to look up at him, she spoke, and her words surprised her. “I missed you.”
He had never heard those words from a woman or felt the strange sensation that came with them, nor did he understand it.
Annoyed, he admonished, “You were foolish!”
“Aye, most definitely,” she agreed. “My only thought was for the injured warrior when my first thought should have questioned the validity of what Brother Luke told me. I am truly sorry.”
As the anger in his eyes dissipated, she was surprised to see they revealed concern. He had been worried about her, but she knew he would never admit it.
“Did you truly see the God of Death’s hell hounds?” he asked, trying not to think that he had missed her as well.
“I cannot say whether they were or were not the God of Death’s hell hounds. They were white and their eyes might have glared red from the fire’s light. It is difficult to say for certain.”
“Brock told all that you addressed the God of Death directly. I believe you said something like Death will not take us! No surrender! We refuse him! Begone and take my command to Arawn!”
She saw no point in telling him that the voice in her head had told her to argue with Death. She did not think it would help the situation.
“If it was Arawn we faced, then I thought it best to fight. If not, at least my words might frighten them away.” A thought came to her. “Is there no one near who may have white hounds?”
“Lord Walter, Clan Macaulay,” Varrick said, having already considered that. “I spoke with him when the white hounds were first spotted. He assured me his hounds had not gotten loose. I know of no other clans with such hounds.”
“It does prove a dilemma.”
“As does you not obeying me.”
“This incident has taught me a lesson and I will not do something so foolish again. I know I gave you my word the last time and I broke it, though not intentionally. I ask that you trust my word when I tell you I will never do something so foolish again.”
Varrick did not need her word; he felt her sincerity. It weaved around and through him, hugging him gently and he wondered what magic she weaved.
“I will accept your word but know if you fail to keep your word to me again, you will suffer a punishment,” he warned.
A bit fearful of what the punishment might be but more curious than anything, she asked, “What punishment would that be?”