Kilderrick, Scotland—Samhain, 1375
Kilderrick, Scotland—Samhain, 1375“Why Kilderrick?” Rafael asked, drawing his destrier alongside Maximilian’s. “Surely there are other better places than this?”
They rode from the English border on a road so narrow that only two horses could walk abreast. The night was dark beyond all expectation. They should have set up camp, but they were close enough to Kilderrick that Maximilian wanted to reach their destination first. He did not like that the company straggled in a long line, even though the men rode as closely together as they could.
Their company was alone, but it did not seem that way. The forest on one side of the road rustled and stirred as if the very trees would pursue the small party. The wind snatched at their cloaks in gusts and the hors
