The travelers continued their journey under the somber sky. The heavens seemed to be hiding some dark unending secret. Neither spoke, simply rode on in the quiet company of close friends. Fat drops of rain began to fall to the earth.

"Lovely weather," Catlin smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

Conor looked over at her, his eyes searching hers for something. What, she couldn't place.

"Are you alright?" she finally asked.

"Just a bit tired," was his response.

"Conor... last night... what did you dream about?" she said in a soft voice.

He looked straight on the trail ahead and avoided her questioning face. He shut his eyes for a moment and swallowed. Visions of that terrible nightmare crept back into his thoughts. He wanted so much to be able to tell her. To unburden himself. But he couldn't. Not when the dreams foretold of her own death. Summoning strength he opened his eyes, smiled and laughed half-heartedly.

"It was nothing. Probably just something I ate."

Catlin knew it was a lie, but she played along anyway.

"That's why I never eat Fergus' cooking."

The subject was dropped, for the moment and they settled into comfortable banter.

By midday, the clouds had begun to lift. Their spirits were buoyed as well. How many moments, during the day's ride had Conor looked for a way to slip in that conversation he started yesterday? Was that only yesterday? More time had seemed to pass since then. With dusk the fall air turned colder. The chirps of crickets filled the darkness. Again, the dream returned sharply. The sounds of crickets, the sounds of Catlin's dying scream. Conor shivered and tried to push the bloody images from his mind.

"Conor!" Catlin's voice was impatient.

"What?" he answered hazily.

"I've been calling your name... are you sure you're alright?" Catlin said, stopping her mare.

She jumped off the horse without waiting for Conor's answer. He searched the spot. There was a small stream running along the thick mass of trees to the right. Tying her horse to a tree Catlin grabbed her bow and quiver and headed into the thicket.

"Make a fire," she yelled back to him, "I'll be right back."

As she disappeared into woods the pale grip of fear caught him again. Conor jumped off his horse and headed into the woods after her.

"Catlin, wait!" he yelled.

Catlin ran through the woods, tracking her prey. She came to a clearing and saw the small rabbit streak across the meadow. Raising her bow she took aim. A split second before she let the arrow fly, Conor came crashing through the brush. Startled, her arm moved slightly and the arrow missed its mark.

"Cat!" he yelled running over to her.

"What is it?"

She was annoyed by the fact that they were now without supper, but the look on Conor's face... Placing his hands on her arms he started to pull her back towards the woods.

"What is it!" she said breaking free of his grasp.

"I just... I..." he shook his head.

The clearing was exactly the same as in the dream. How could this be? He half expected to see Longinus appear out of thin air.

"Conor, would you please tell me what's going on?" she implored.

Gently she placed her hands on his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"Please tell me... please."

In that split second, he actually considered telling her.

"I don't think you should go off by yourself... it's not safe," he said, pulling her hands away from his face and holding them in his.

A slightly miffed expression played across her cheeks and her jaw set stubbornly. How dare he? Didn't he realize how important his life was? He was the symbol of the Confederation. She was merely a foot soldier.

"Conor," she said the words distinctly, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself... If anyone should be careful- it's you."

"What?" Now he was the one who was getting mad.

"You are the leader - you need to be more careful. Your life is more important than-"

"You're right about one thing," he said forcefully, "I am the leader... and right now I'm giving an order that you shouldn't go off alone."

Staring at him in disbelief, she was far past the point of annoyance. She was angry. Quickly, she ran the short distance and collected her wayward arrow. Walking back towards the woods she ignored him completely.

"Where are you going?"

Venomously, she spun back to face him.

"Back to the horses. That is, if that's alright with you, my Lord," she said sarcastically, bowing low.


When he reached her, she was already sitting by a small fire. Orange light lit the tiny camp. Obviously, Catlin was still angry. Her eyes didn't meet his as she spoke to him.

"You made me miss my mark, so there's no meat."

"I'm sorry."

The apology caught her slightly off guard. Her head raised to meet his gaze. Lost in his brown eyes, she softly spoke.

"Apology accepted."

"Cat, I only - "she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"I'm tired, Conor... Let's just not get into this right now." She poked at the fire with a long stick.

"I'll take the first watch," he said walking over to a slight rise where a broad oak stood, sheltering their spot.

Leaning up against the tree he watched as she silently unwrapped her sleeping pack. Thick blankets spread out on the grassy floor. Catlin burrowed herself in their folds. For a brief moment she gazed at him from across the fire studying his eyes, his face, she let herself smile.

"Goodnight."

He flashed her a lopsided grin.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" he sat up, looking over the fire.

"It means 'goodnight,'" she said as she lay back on her camp bed.