The Shadow Companion - Laura Anne Gilman [15]
“Never mind,” she said. “It’s gone now. It was probably just a haunt, nothing that would bother a mighty warrior like him, who doesn’t have to worry about things not of the mortal, ordinary world.”
“Ailis…”
She just looked at him, daring him to push the matter. He sighed, letting it drop.
“Hoy!”
Two of the other squires rode up alongside them, waving to Callum. With a sideways glance at Newt, the younger squire peeled away from their group, clearly pleased to be leaving the sudden tension to rejoin his old companions.
“Horse-boy!” one of them called. “You, too!”
Newt didn’t hesitate turning his horse off the path to join the three waiting for him. He didn’t particularly want to spend time with the rougher-edged squires, whose idea of fun was uncomfortably close to that of the dogs he used to tend. But anything was better than sitting between Gerard and Ailis when they were upset with each other, as seemed to be the case too often these days.
“Ailis…” Gerard tried again. “I’m sorry. Sir Matthias is so…” he floundered, looking for a word. “Old-fashioned,” he said, finally. “He doesn’t believe…”
“No, he doesn’t,” she said shortly. “And neither do you, apparently.” She would have ridden off, but unlike Newt and Callum she had nowhere else to go. Instead, she settled for watching the tall, dark-columned trees that lined the narrow road, noting with great intensity the colors of the leaves, the texture of the bark, and where it had been eaten away by deer and other grazers. And all the while the sense of something just out of sight, something following them, persisted. That and the eerie feeling she’d had during the monk’s prophecy…
“Don’t bring attention to yourself,” Merlin had said. “Stay quiet and out of sight.” If she brought her suspicions to Sir Matthias’s attention, she would have to explain why and how she knew what she knew—and that would involve mentioning Morgain. And Ailis wasn’t certain, after all…so she said nothing.
Newt was dizzy. The whirlwind of the past several days swam through his mind. His feet were slightly uncertain as he walked under the trees back to his bedroll.
There was no room to erect the pavilions of the previous camp, but tarps had been raised, and some semblance of comfort established. Many of the squires had decided to sleep under their masters’ roofs while they were in the Shadows, but Newt preferred the fresh air, even if he couldn’t see the sky through the thick branches overhead. The trees between him and the main camp gave him the illusion of privacy, something he had missed since leaving his horse-charges back at Camelot.
“Chhhhheeereeeee.”
So far tonight, he had heard three different calls, none of which he had encountered before. Some might claim the howls and whoops were the voices of unrestful souls, but Newt knew they were merely night-birds, flitting and hunting low overhead.
He came to the open space in the center of four great tree trunks where his bedroll had been placed. Callum had left a small fire burning in the fire pit, and Newt held back a sigh of exasperation. The boy should have known enough to bank the flames before he fell asleep, especially in such a densely wooded area.
Newt stepped over Callum’s blanket-covered form and went to rearrange the wood so that the flames would die down again, leaving only smoldering coals that could be restarted come morning.
As he bent over the flames, he heard another noise, this one more of a yelping sound—the sort a fox kit might make when excited or alarmed. Only it was too narrow and thready to be a fox’s call. Newt looked over his shoulder into the night-dark surroundings, but saw no telltale glow of eyes, and heard no rustle of leaves that might indicate the passing of such a creature. Callum slept through it all, not even shifting at the disturbance.
Foxes, no matter how odd-sounding, were neither interesting enough nor worrisome enough to keep Newt from his bed any longer—not after a long day of riding. So without further hesitation, he slid off his boots and jerkin, put them within reach,