The smell of frying pork had her mouth watering before she'd rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The sky was just lightening with predawn and the air was already warming with the coming of morning.
Cuchulainn's back was to her as he bent over the fire, stirring the sizzling meat. She got up, shook herself, and stretched. As she joined him she noticed the gelding was already saddled, and that, except for the few cooking utensils, everything was packed and ready to go.
"Good morning," he said without looking at her.
"Good morning. I can't believe I slept through you packing up and making breakfast."
He glanced up at her and gave her a little half smile, which held only the shadow of his usual warmth. His tone was carefully neutral. "You didn't move. I hope you slept as well as it seemed you did."
She looked into his eyes, remembering the erotic dream and what had prefaced it.
"I slept well," was all she said.
"Good," he said briskly. Cu turned back to the fire and forked the pork between two slabs of bread and cheese, which he handed to her. "Do you mind eating as we travel? I think we should move from dawn to dusk today. We really didn't get a full day in yesterday."
"I agree," she said.
"Good," he repeated. Setting his sandwich on the one saddlebag he'd left unpacked, he put out the campfire.
"Cuchulainn?"
He gave her a quick look over his shoulder.
"Is it going to be this awkward between us all day?" she asked.
His lips twitched. "Looks like it might be."
"Is there anything I can do to change that right now?"
"Probably not," he said, and turned back to the fire.
She sighed. It wasn't even full light and it already felt like it had been a long day. And that feeling held through the endless hours of the morning and then midday. At least the grueling pace she forced herself to set left little opportunity for conversation, though she would have welcomed the respite of talking with him. It was usually so easy between them - ironic that now they were mated everything felt so complicated.
The silence between them did give her time to think. The dream stayed with her, so that her thoughts of Cuchulainn were tinged with an erotic quality, which she knew was silly and unrealistic. Then she'd remember how his hard body had felt against her and the explosion of sensation that had flooded her dream...
"We'll stop here and I'll switch mounts. The gelding is played out." Cuchulainn's deep voice carried above the pound of hooves.
She blinked, rousing herself from the trancelike state induced by endless travel. The sun was just beginning its descent toward the ocean, and the little village they were approaching looked cheerful and welcoming in the bright afternoon light.
"Do you know where we are?" she asked.
"A little over half a day's hard ride from McNamara Castle."
"Which means if we keep up this pace we'll be at the edge of the Blue Tors tomorrow night."
"Can you keep up this pace?"
She saw his eyes flick down her body and was sure he was noting the sheen of sweat that had begun to darken the blond of her flanks. She raised her brow and gave his gelding a pointed look. The horse's coat was drenched and flecks of white foam spotted his chest and flanks.
"I think you better worry about your mount. I'm fine."
Cu grunted. "That's why I'm changing to the bay. This old boy's had it." He smiled at her then, and the wry humor even touched his eyes. "You know you could probably run any horse into the ground."
"Of course I could," she said, giving him a slow, knowing look. "Centaur Huntresses are known for their power and stamina as well as their beauty and passion." Purposefully, her lips curved into a sensuous smile and she watched, amused, as his eyes widened in surprise at her flirtation.There, she thought,let's see what he makes of that.
"I can see there's no need to worry about you if you have enough energy to be sarcastic," he said.
Again, she sent him that slow, dreamy smile. "I wasn't being sarcastic."
Before he could answer Brighid broke her gait and slowed so they could enter the village at a more sedate pace. For such a small settlement, Brighid was surprised by the number of people crowding the streets around the open air market. The village was neat and prosperous, and she didn't remember it at all from her blind rush from the Centaur Plains. She did notice that there were no other centaurs visible, and that several of the people stared openly at her.
"If I remember correctly there should be an inn just around this corner." He pointed ahead of them and to the left. "We can each get a quick bowl of hot stew, I'll change mounts, and we can be off."
She nodded, preoccupied with the looks she was drawing. She knew she was a beautiful Huntress. It was a fact and had nothing to do with vanity or ego. She was used to being stared at - especially by males. But these looks felt different. They weren't appreciative or inviting. They were speculative, narrowed, distrustful. By the time they halted in front of the crowded little inn, Brighid's skin was jumpy.
She had to force herself to keep her hand from the bow that was always strapped to her back.
Cuchulainn dismounted with a grunt and stretched.
"I'll take care of the gelding and switch your saddle to the bay while you go in and get us the stew." At his questioning look, she added, "It'll save time."
He shrugged his shoulders and nodded, walking into the inn with an easy, confident grace. As she loosened the gelding's sweaty girth, she could hear a delighted female voice crying Cu's name, which was soon followed by other greetings.
"Like they're welcoming home a damned hero," she muttered to the gelding, who was still blowing hard.
She sighed and pulled off the saddle, leading the exhausted horse to the watering trough, where he sank his muzzle and drank deeply of the cold, clear water. Under normal circumstances she would have joined him, splashing some of the water on herself, but she could feel watching eyes and instinctively she decided against making any move that could be mistaken for bestial.
She was a centaur Huntress, not a mindless equine.
She was just lifting the saddle onto the new mount when Cu came back through the door. She glanced up, frowning at the spryness of his step and the annoying gleam in his eyes.
What was it Elphame used to call him? An incorrigible rake.
"Here, let me do that." He took the saddle from her hands and put it on the bay's broad back. "The stew will be right out. Or we could go in and eat."
She gave the narrow door a dismissive look. "It's not centaur-size."
"There's plenty of room inside," he said.
"I prefer a more open space," she said. Ignoring the question in his look she set about securing the saddlebags on the buckskin gelding, double-checking the horse's breathing...anything to keep from meeting Cuchulainn's eyes.
Was she being overly sensitive? Was she imagining the tension around her? Before she could decide, a plump, attractive blonde rushed from the inn. She was carrying a wooden tray laden with two bowls of steaming stew, bread and fruit, as well as goblets brimming with what smelled like mulled cider. Giggling coquettishly she wiggled up to Cuchulainn. Brighid wondered at the balancing act she managed - with all that wiggling and giggling, she didn't spill one drop of food or drink. The girl was truly talented.
"When you didn't come back in I thought you might like it if I brought your meal to you, my Lord Cuchulainn." She batted her eyes ridiculously.
Brighid felt her jaw setting.
"That was kind of you." Cu smiled absently at the woman as he gave the girth one last pull. "I think we're going to eat - "
"Right out here," Brighid interrupted, pointing to the little porch. "You can just leave the tray there.
We're in a hurry to get back on the road."
The blonde's eyes slid to the Huntress and Brighid saw her acknowledge and then quickly discount her.
She did set the tray down, though, being sure that she afforded Cuchulainn a deep view of her ample bosom. Brighid narrowed her eyes at her husband, who was obviously pleased at the additional scenery.
The Huntress was contemplating how satisfying it would be to kick the blonde on her very round behind when a couple of men emerged from the doorway, pewter mugs of ale in their hands.
"Cuchulainn! It's always a pleasure to see you," the taller of the two said.
Cu nodded pleasantly before he took a bowl of stew from the platter and passed it to Brighid.
"Will you not come in and join us?" the shorter, more florid man asked. Then his eyes flicked to Brighid and stayed. He licked his liver-colored lips. "We could make room."
Brighid took some pleasure in the fact that Cu's voice flattened at the man's obvious interest in her.
"Afraid we don't have time."
"Little wonder you're in a hurry. I hear there's some trouble in the Centaur Plains," the short man said.
He couldn't seem to keep his eyes from Brighid. She frowned at him, but realized that her dark look did no good. The man wasn't staring at her face.
"It's those Goddess-be-damned Dhianna centaurs. That herd never could act right, not since the Fomorian War," the first man grumbled. "Like they were the only ones to suffer losses? Maybe you can teach them a thing or two about respect, Cuchulainn."
Brighid felt her gut tighten as her initial reaction was to come to the defense of her herd. But she clamped her jaws closed. She couldn't defend them. They didn't deserve it. But that didn't mean it was any easier for her to hear this man's slander. She lifted her eyes to Cu's and knew he could read the turmoil and hurt there. She heard his voice again, echoing from the night before...We are bonded, the two of us.
Because somehow, miraculously, Epona fashioned your soul to match mine.
And she knew it was true. No matter what else might come between them, their souls completed one another.
Cuchulainn turned away from her and faced the men again, this time he was not smiling. "Funny that you would mention the Dhianna Herd. I was just about to introduce you to my traveling companion, Brighid Dhianna."
Brighid enjoyed how the men and the plump blonde suddenly looked decidedly uncomfortable. She tilted her head in quick acknowledgment of Cu's introduction.
"It's charming to meet you," she said, keeping most of the sarcasm from her voice.
"Of course she's not just my traveling companion. She's also MacCallan Castle's Huntress." He paused and took a purposeful step closer to her. When his gaze shifted to her his expression changed and lost its dangerous edge, turning warm with open affection. "And as of yesterday, she is my wife."
The blonde burst into a gale of breathy giggles. "Oh, Lord Cuchulainn! You do so love to jest."
Brighid leveled her gaze on the woman. "He's not jesting."
"But that's impossible!" sputtered the short man, who had finally managed to pull his eyes from the Huntress's breasts.
"Do you mean to insult me by doubting my word?" Cuchulainn's voice was low and dangerous.
"No!"
"Of course not!"
"I - I should get back to the rest of our patrons," the blonde said, throwing nervous looks over her shoulder at Brighid as she scampered, amidst much jiggling of flesh, back up the stairs, and disappeared into the inn.
"Well then," the tall man said, not looking directly at the warrior or the Huntress. "Good luck with your journey."
"Yes." The florid man wiped the sweat from his upper lip. "Luck be with you."
Both men retreated hastily into the inn, whereby the easy sounds of conversation died and soon Brighid saw several pairs of wide, shocked eyes peering through the single window.
She wanted to forget the rest of her food and bolt from the village, but when she glanced at Cuchulainn he had moved to lean against the edge of the porch and was leisurely wiping the bottom of his bowl with a thick piece of the bread.
If he wasn't going to let the stares and the shocked whispers bother him, she damned well wasn't going to, either. They ate the rest of their meal slowly, and only after they had finished every drop of the cider and eaten every speck of the fruit, did Cuchulainn toss a few coins onto the tray and then mount the bay.
Side by side they trotted from the inn.
"I think that went well," Cuchulainn said pleasantly.
"Oh, definitely. I don't know why I ever thought people would be shocked at the news of our marriage,"
she said in the same nonchalant tone.
Cuchulainn turned his head and looked at her - and they both laughed.