Let me be who I am.
That was what she had told him she expected from him and he was just beginning to understand the depth of her request.
Iver suddenly slowed and so did Raven and the others. When Iver stopped and dropped down to examine the ground, Raven went to him, though remained silent. Iver would speak when he was ready.
After a few moments, Iver stood and kept his voice low. “Toke grows tired. He no longer carries the lad. I don’t think he’s far from us. We go slow from here.”
Raven signaled the men and they proceeded with cautious steps.
Iver held his hand out to her and she scrunched her face annoyed, understanding what he expected of her, and she reluctantly surrendered the bow and cache of arrows to him.
“You’re a skilled archer,” he said, slinging the cache of arrows over his chest. “But your arm has yet to heal.”
“I was carrying them for you,” she said with a grin. “And we both know I’ll never be as talented as you.”
“You’ve come close,” he said with a pride in his student that was easy to see.
Raven followed alongside him grateful for all that Iver had taught her.
It wasn’t long before they spotted Toke, his breathing laborious and with a grip on the back of the little lad’s garment. The lad was crying and shivering. He must have run out of the cottage with intentions of returning quickly when he’d been scooped up since he wore no cloak or wrappings over his regular garments.
It angered Raven beyond measure and within a matter of seconds she determined the best action. She didn’t wait, she drew her dagger and hurried into the small copse of pines where Toke had taken shelter.
Wolf had slowed his warriors’ pace when his tracker had discovered what Iver had and he came upon his wife and her men just in time to see her advance on Toke.
Toke drew his dagger and turned it on the lad.
Raven didn’t hesitate. She threw her dagger, catching Toke in the shoulder with such force that he stumbled back, releasing the lad.
Fyn had followed behind her and ran straight to Tait and the little lad flung himself into Fyn’s arms, sobbing. Fyn held him tight and hurried him safely away.
Toke steadied himself fast and went to throw the dagger he still held, but Raven had already drawn the other dagger she carried. She was far too fast and skilled for the man. Her dagger landed in his throat and his eyes turned wide with shock as he gagged and dropped to the ground.
Wolf stared, amazed at his wife’s skill. His warriors’ whispers told him they thought the same. He went to her, annoyed yet proud.
“Spare me a tongue-lashing,” she said when he stepped alongside her.
“At least you are wise enough to know that your arm isn’t healed enough for you to use a bow and arrow.”
Raven caught Iver’s grin.
One thing Raven never did was to accept praise that didn’t belong to her. “That was Iver’s doing. Besides, he’s a better archer than me.”
“Then my thanks go to you, Iver, for being wise when my wife was foolish,” Wolf said with a nod to the man.
“Raven has her faults,” Iver admitted, “but foolishness isn’t one of them.”
Wolf tried to keep the command out of his tone, but he was eager for an answer. “Tell me one fault of hers.”
Iver answered without a glance to Raven and without hesitation. “Raven loves with all her heart and soul and would do or give anything to keep those she loves safe, even if it means she suffers.”
“But you already know that, don’t you?” Brod asked, with a touch of sarcasm, having stepped up behind Iver.
Wolf’s warriors circled the two men, but Wolf raised his hand and waved them off. “We all sacrifice in some way.”
“Some more than others,” Brod said and looked to Raven. “We’re going to follow Fyn and Tait home to make sure no one else lingers about.”
“Wait a moment and I’ll go with you,” Iver said and hurried to retrieve Raven’s daggers, wiping them on the dead man’s garments before returning them to her.
Wolf raised his hand and made a gesture that had a few of his warriors following after Raven’s men.
“Don’t trust them?” Raven asked.
“Extra hands to fight if needed.”
She had learned he could be as blunt as she often was, so she acknowledged his considerate gesture with a nod. “Appreciated.”
Wolf took hold of her arm and walked her away from the body that his men were wrapping to take back with them. “I won’t deliver a tongue-lashing, but I will have my say.”
“I’ll at least listen,” she agreed.
“I would advise that,” he cautioned.
“Is that a warning? A threat?” she asked, stepping closer, unafraid… mostly. The man could intimidate with a glance and there was his strength to consider. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe she could break free of his hold. His grip was like a shackle clamping around her arm and her waist at times. The crazy part was that most times his strength comforted her.