[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]
They were getting close to the edge of the Hunt’s section of their budding village and Matt struggled to keep from showing the sudden attack of nerves that seized him. What the hell had he been thinking?
But he already knew what he’d been thinking—he’d been remembering Cíar’s connection to them and knowing that if he spoke to them, if he brought word of Orcus’s threat, they would listen. They might not heed, they might not act, but they would certainly listen. Perhaps some would help, if not all. He had to hope that much.
If Thom noticed his growing discomfort, his brother-in-law kept his mouth shut about it and didn’t let it show on his face. For that, Matt was silently grateful. It was one less thing he needed to worry about.
Gideon was of the Hunt to spot them, lifting a hand in greeting. A little bit of the tension that had stretched Matt’s shoulders taut started to ease. He waved, heading for the other man, whose smile didn’t shrink a bit despite the concern Matt knew was written all over his own face.
“You have the look of a man on a mission,” Gideon said. “What’s the matter?”
“I need to talk to you and Anselm and the other senior riders,” Matt said quietly. “Fast.”
Gideon’s smile faded and his brows knit. “What is it?”
“The camp the outriders spotted,” Matt said. “With the army building?”
Now Gideon frowned. “What of it?”
“I think what we all feared might have just been confirmed. We need to talk.”
“Yes,” Gideon said softly, almost distantly. “Yes, we do.”
“He was wrong on the distance,” Matt said. “Or they’ve moved, or are moving. Ten miles.”
“The army and the next enemy we’ll face,” Matt said. “Ten miles northwest and we have three days to stop them before they come marching to our door.”