Empire of Night (Age of Legends 2)

She leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped her, his hands on her shoulders. "You saved yourself, Moria. More than that, you saved me. I'd have died in the forest, with those fiend dogs."

"But you'd not have been there if you hadn't come for me."

"You still did it, and you truly did save me on that battlefield. If you had not called my name when the warlord struck--"

"I'd rather not think on that."

"Nor would I. But I just want to say . . ." He kissed her. ". . . that you. . ." Another kiss. ". . . are incredible . . ." A third. "And I . . ." A fourth. ". . . am incredibly lucky." He looked into her eyes. "I'll not forget that. Ever."

She leaned forward and kissed him, and the simple press of the lips became more, deliciously more, until Daigo's surprisingly gentle growl reminded them that they needed to be on their way again.

FIFTY-TWO

To their relief, Okami's men were where Tyrus had left them. While neither dared voice it, Moria knew they'd both feared Alvar's men would come or the fiend dogs would lure Okami's warriors into the forest.

All Okami's men needed to do now was give up a couple of warm cloaks. Of course Tyrus insisted he didn't require one; of course Moria made him take it, threatening at blade-point when needed, which greatly amused Okami's warriors.

After Moria and Tyrus found a private spot, removed their wet overgarments, and fastened on the warm cloaks, there was a checking and cataloging of injuries. Each reassured the other that his or her own injuries were not so bad as they might have seemed in the forest. Certainly not so bad as they'd seemed before the plunge into deep water cleaned away the blood. Moria's arm required a cloth binding. Tyrus's injuries were more numerous, but none severe, though Moria examined each bite and scratch before agreeing further care could wait.

They returned to Okami's men, hung the wet garments from their saddles, and set out. Tyrus had not asked why she'd been wearing only under-dresses. Moria suspected he'd mistaken the layers for a simple gown. Her footwear was covered with enough mud and darkness that it wouldn't be obvious they were finely made sandals. She did not wish to explain the party and the fake betrothal. Even more, though, she did not wish to mention the dungeon cell. Tyrus had been correct to head for the city after the battle, but his guilt over that was heavy enough. Let him think Gavril had been a serviceable host.

They rode through the night and into dawn, heading toward the mountains, with Okami's compound at their base. The party took rutted forest paths whenever possible. At dawn, they reached a roadside public house--not an inn, but someone's home, the owners offering food and beds to the rare traveler who came that way. While Tyrus and Moria stayed with Daigo and a blazing fire, Okami's men commandeered the place, turning out a group of fellow travelers and taking their breakfast for themselves. They were on the edges of Lord Okami's land now, and his men could expect such service.

Their host brought out food and drink, a veritable feast after Moria's captivity, and she dove in like a ravenous beast, to the others' amusement--and encouragement. They were rough men, these warriors of the Gray Wolf, as Goro Okami was known. Not the sort of warriors she was accustomed to, but the sort that seemed more accustomed to women like her--men who found it not the least bit odd that a girl knew how to use a dagger and how to pack away a man's breakfast, a girl who was treated as equal by a prince.

As for Tyrus, they did not treat him as a prince either, yet there was no disrespect in their easy talk and teasing. They were clearly fond of him and comfortable in his company, which settled any fears on the situation. Tyrus had said earlier that his father truly reflected his clan totem, and Moria suspected that this was often true of the men who bore them. Alvar Kitsune was as crafty and duplicitous as the nine-tailed fox. Jorojumo was a sneaky web spinner, like the spider. And Goro Okami seemed, like his wolf totem, independent yet loyal to his friends.

The land here was as wild as the men, and while one might think Moria had had enough of forests to last a lifetime, the one they rode through that morning was different. Lush and green, it shimmered and crackled with life, and she found herself regretting each time they had to leave for a stretch on the road.

It was nearly midday when Daigo informed her they were being followed. He started by casting looks to his side, repeatedly, as if spotting something. Then he slowed to sniff the air, his ears rotating.

"Would Lord Okami send other men to escort us?" she whispered to Tyrus. "Men who'd keep to the shadows?"

"Lord Okami does not keep to shadows very well," Tyrus said with a slight smile. "Nor do his men, as you may have noticed. If you see someone, it's likely local bandits."

When she tensed, he let out a soft laugh. "You've little to fear. Lord Okami's relationship with the bandits is . . . atypical. They'd sooner die by their own swords than attack his men. If they follow, it's curiosity." He sobered. "Which may be more dangerous than robbery, under the circumstances. They can be trusted not to waylay us, but I'm not as certain they can be trusted to keep our presence a secret if the bounty is high enough. You saw someone?"

"Daigo has. He and I will

fall back and look."

"I'll join you."

She shook her head. "That will be too obvious. Let the girl lag behind with her wildcat. If you get too far ahead, you can circle back, as if checking on me."

He agreed, and Moria stopped, ostensibly to examine Daigo's paw, as if he'd stepped on something sharp. They both scanned the forest as she fussed with his forepaw.

Daigo's ears swiveled west a moment before she caught a crackle in the forest. She snuck a look that way just in time to see a slight figure slipping through the trees.

"I see only one," she whispered. "If it's a bandit, I don't think he's very old. He's not much bigger than me."

Daigo grunted, as if confirming. The figure snuck closer. His cloak was a mottled brown that blended with his surroundings, and his footsteps made no sound after that one unfortunate crackle.

"Will you take him down for me?" she whispered to Daigo.

The wildcat charged before she could finish. The boy saw Daigo and yanked a sling from under his cloak. Moria loosed her dagger. It caught the boy's cloak just as he let his stone fly, and the missile launched harmlessly to the side as Daigo leaped on him. Moria ran over.

"Well," said a lilting, high voice. "Aren't you the prettiest kitten ever. Those fangs are truly impressive, though I'd prefer they weren't quite so close to my throat."