Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 98745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Her courage ran strong but so did her foolishness. She needed rest to heal, not have a confrontation with the man who almost killed her. He also didn’t want her to see what he intended to do to the man when he was done getting what information he wanted from him.
She could see that he was considering it and offered more reasoning as to why he should agree to her request. “It will not take long to see this done since you wish to be on our way soon and I will at least have found my footing by then and be aware of any limitations the wound might have caused me.”
She made sense, he couldn’t deny that. It would be a good way for him to judge if she was truly fit to travel.
“A short time only, then you will sit and rest until we are ready to leave,” he ordered.
It was better than a complete refusal, and she smiled softly. “Help me to my feet.”
“Please, husband, would sound nice.”
“To save time and future annoyance, know a please comes before anything I ask of you,” she informed him and eased herself up, with the help of his firm hand to her back to sit before she attempted to stand.
“I would prefer to hear you say please,” he said, holding her steady as she sat and seeing that she had paled some.
Her head spun more than she expected, and she feared she would not make it to her feet without losing her balance, so she remained as she was allowing the spinning feeling to pass.
“I don’t know anything, nothing at all,” a voice called out.
“Get me to my feet before he gets here,” Leora said, tugging on her husband’s arm.
“Please,” he reminded.
“Oh good, you said what you heard in your head. That works perfectly.”
Noble shook his head. Even a bit disoriented from a head wound and she still had a sharp wit about her. She was like no woman he had ever met and one he probably wouldn’t have wanted to meet, and yet… there was something about her that he favored.
Leora was relieved her husband kept a firm hold on her, his arm tight around her waist. Her head spun again but not as badly as when she had first tried to sit up.
“A few moments and that is all,” Noble reminded, though was surprised she had remained steady on her feet and color was beginning to return to her face.
A man medium in height and skinny stumbled out of the woods, a warrior having given him a hefty shove. He righted himself and walked with bravado toward Noble.
“Step too close and I will see you gutted,” Noble warned in a calm yet strong command.
The man stopped a distance from them.
“Who hired you?” Noble demanded.
The man stared at Leora, ignoring Noble. “I missed. I can’t believe I missed my mark. I never miss.”
Noble heard the words in his head before they left his wife’s mouth.”
“There is always a first time,” Leora said with a smile.
“At least I scarred you,” the man said with pride.
“Your name,” she ordered.
The man stuck out his chest. “Tavish.”
With a lift of her chin, Leora said, “I will wear the scar proudly and tell everyone how I was the only person that Tavish the marksman failed to kill.”
Noble’s men burst out laughing and Tavish’s face grew red with rage, and he went to lunge forward. Two sword blades were slammed flat against his chest stopping him.
“Who hired you,” Noble demanded, “and I will not ask you again.”
Tavish shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t tell you what I don’t know. The leader of a mercenary group offered coins to anyone who would kill the reddish blonde-haired daughters of the chieftain of Clan Murdock and more coins would be given with proof of their deaths. No one would take on the task once it was discovered that the Gallowglass was involved, so I was offered more than a generous amount of coins since I never fail at a task.”
“Until now,” Leora reminded.
Tavish scowled at her. “I may not get to finish the task, but someone will since someone badly wants you and your sister dead.”
“Who is the mercenary who offered this to you?” Noble asked.
Tavish spat on the ground before saying, “Why should I tell you? You are going to kill me anyway.”
“It is the difference between a quick, easy death or a brutally painful one,” Noble said.
Tavish laughed. “I choose my death, not you.”
It happened so fast that Leora stared, trying to comprehend that Tavish lay dead, blood pooling beneath him, his throat slit by his own hand. She turned her head away, her cheek brushing her husband’s chest and she rested her cheek against the thick muscle beneath his garment relieved to feel his strength.
He tightened his hold on her and lowered his head to rest his cheek to the side of her head and kept his voice low as he said, “You need to sit and rest until we are ready to leave.” He didn’t give her a choice. He walked her to the spruce tree, lowering her gently to sit beneath the wide branches. “Stay here until I come for you.”