Ghostwalker - Erik Scott De Bie [78]
Meris smiled. He wanted to be the one to cut that face off.
Distracted as he was, Meris failed to notice anything unusual about his two newest recruits-a thin weasel of a man and a hulking brute almost as large as Bilgren. They slouched in their cloaks, searching the misty ground for tracks. In fact, if Meris had paid any attention, he would have recognized the voices that traded soft repartee in the background.
"Did I ever tell you how I once walked to Mirabar from Everlund?" the small one asked. "It took three tendays of constant travel: no sleep, no water-"
"Shut up, mutton head, or my fist'll send you on another journey," the big one replied.
"Will you be there to keep me company on this new journey?"
"Of course not!" came the growling reply.
"Well, thank Tym-I mean, Beshaba." The short man sighed in relief. "I was worried I was cursed to spend eternity with the likes of you, Winebelly."
"And I with you, Leadthief."
Meris's lieutenant pushed back through the brush. "Silence, you two," Darthan snapped. "Haven't you heard of the word 'stealth?'"
"I've heard of it," the man called Winebelly replied.
"Then try it," Darthan growled. "And if it doesn't work, I'll be back, and it won't be a warning next time."
Winebelly glowered at Darthan's back as he went. Leadthief, on the other hand, laughed aloud and called after the ranger. "If Wine 'ere can sneak out of a maiden's bedroom afore her pa wakes up and gets the axe, he calls that 'stealth,' " the weasel man said.
"Leadthief, you ever heard of being knocked cold to the ground?"
"I've heard of it-"
Then a whisper cut them off. Forbidding light burst through the trees, dazzling the men. Blades fell from limp hands and the rangers threw themselves to the ground, shaking in terror. "What, by the Hells?" they asked.
Meris was the only one not bowing or cowering in terror. Meris stood tall and strong with his long sword and hand axe drawn. He spread his arms wide and bowed.
"Hail, Ghostly Lady."
* * * * *
It was not until her eyes opened that Arya realized she had nodded into a warm, dreamless sleep. The sun had just set. Though she wore only a light undertunic and breeches, she was not cold. She sat up and looked around expecting to see Walker sitting some distance away in his usual cross-legged, meditative pose, but the clearing was empty save for a small cookfire over which two small animals roasted. Her auburn brows furrowed, but then she felt a soft hand brush her cheek. Strong arms wrapped around her.
A smile spread across her face. "How long have I slept?" she asked.
"Through the sunset," came Walker's reply. His voice was low and melodic, even as it was fragmented. She shifted in his arms, and he held her tighter.
"Have you been watching over me this whole time?"
"No," said Walker. Startled at his answer, Arya turned her eyes to his partially hidden face. He had buttoned his collar halfway up but not donned his cloak again. He gestured toward the cookfire. "Hunting as well."
The knight smiled and laughed. Heedless of how her garments clung to her slim frame, she sprang up and crossed to the cookfire. There roasted two wild rabbits. They were slightly blackened, but when she prodded one with her knife, rich juices flowed out and sizzled in the fire.
Arya realized she was famished. She removed the spit and carried it back to Walker, but the ghostwalker waved the meat away. Obliging him, she sat and bit into one of the rabbits. It was plain, not flavored, but it was the most succulent thing she had tasted in a long time, due in no small part to her growling stomach.
"I am not hungry," said Walker when Arya pressed.
"But you need food, do you not?"
Walker did not reply, but held up the hand with the silver wolf ring.
Arya shook her head. "I might have guessed," she said with a smile.
Neither rabbit was small, but she wolfed down both in short order. She was too hungry to stand on ceremony, but when she felt Walker's eyes watching her, she became self-conscious. With an embarrassed laugh, she finished the second rabbit and wiped her fingers