Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
He’d met healers before, kind, soft-spoken women, some who flinched at the sight of blood yet faced sickness and death with a bravery most warriors lacked. But he had never met an herb-scribe, women who spent more time in the forest than with people. He’d also never met a woman with hair and eye color such as hers.
He watched as her hair caught the light, a faint sheen of silver. It was like no color he had ever seen before. That alone marked her as uncommon and the Hunters would be sure to think she was a healer, the one they searched for, if they found her among the healers.
Her eyes, a rare color, like the amethyst stone, were unsettling—had met his with the directness of someone used to truth, not flattery. He wondered how many had looked at her and seen a blessing, and how many had seen a curse. Though to some, her beauty alone might have outweighed any unease.
She was also independent and far too brave for her own good. She’d chosen to walk into danger when most would remain hidden. Foolish, perhaps. Admirable, certainly.
She glanced back once, just enough to meet his eyes before turning forward again. He looked away first, not wanting her to look too deep and learn anything about him.
Though, he intended to learn more about her.
They walked a while longer, the quiet stretching between them like a thread that neither seemed inclined to cut. Elara preferred the soothing melody of the forest, the rustle of leaves, the drip of earlier rain from the high branches, the distant gurgle of a stream somewhere beyond the trees. This was home to her more than anywhere else, a place that welcomed her. A place she felt secure. A place that willingly shared its vast and ancient knowledge with her.
Wanderers also had knowledge of the forest’s ways and what passed between villages. They carried news as easily as they carried tales. If anyone might know the truth of the king’s command, it would be one such as him.
Without looking back, she said, “You move among many villages. You must hear things.”
“Most villagers are eager for news. It helps to secure meals and shelter, and I am eager to listen so I may spread the word.”
She didn’t hesitate to ask, “What have you heard of the king’s search for a healer?”
He was quiet for a few more steps. “Enough to know it isn’t gossip. The Hunters ride with royal warrant. They take those healers they think might be the one the king searches for… and none return.”
Elara’s brow furrowed. “What happens to them?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was low, roughened by what she didn’t know. “No one does.”
The words lingered heavily between them.
Elara glanced at him, searching for more, but his gaze stayed on the terrain ahead. Whatever he knew—or feared—he had no intention of sharing.
Elara pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “You speak as if you’ve seen much.”
“More than I wanted,” he admitted.
“And yet you still walk toward it.”
He gave a small, humorless laugh. “It is a wanderer’s lot in life.”
She looked away, uneasy, and suddenly stopped abruptly.
Dar halted as well, scanning the trees, his hand dropping instinctively toward the dagger at his belt. “What is it?”
Elara turned slowly, eyes narrowing as she listened. The forest held its breath, the rustle of leaves stilled, even the birds fell silent.
“Did you hear that?” she asked.
He frowned. “Hear what?”
“An odd sound, one that does not belong to the forest.”
He listened, the muscles in his jaw tightening. But after a moment, he shook his head. “I hear nothing.”
Elara wanted to believe him, but the echo still thrummed faintly in her ears—low, rhythmic, distant.
Drums.
A chill swept through her. She forced her expression to remain steady and started walking again.
“It’s nothing,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
Dar watched her for a moment longer before following.
Elara didn’t look back. The sound had already faded, but she knew what it meant.
They would reach Thornleigh too late. She was certain of it.
Chapter Four
Thornleigh
A Village in Leighfeld
* * *
Something was wrong, Elara could feel it. She went to rush forward, to break through the tree line, but she was suddenly yanked to a rough stop and drawn back against something solid. Disoriented, it took her a moment to realize her back was planted firmly against Dar’s chest, his arm secure around her waist.
An odd thought struck her. His muscled body spoke more of a warrior than a wanderer. Had something happened to him that had made him take to the road, live his life without direction?
He planted his cheek next to hers, its warmth melting his icy one as he whispered, “Do not be so foolish as to run into trouble, easy steps will get you there just as fast and more than likely avoid the trouble that waits.”