Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Stay down,” he ordered and got to his feet in a flash, yanked his sword from the sheath on his back, and swung at the man descending on him with a vicious scream and raised sword.
Fear froze Flora. She had listened to her da and his friends when battles had been discussed but they paled in comparison when amid a live battle. The fierce roars that pierced the air were worse than mighty thunder. The continuous clank of metal as swords clashed deafening, the anguished cries of pain from the wounded and dying terrifying, the sight of bodies falling one after the other a nightmare, the spray of blood staining the pure white snow horrifying, and the dreadful odor that wretched her stomach that she prayed she would never smell again, kept her too fearful to move.
She remained huddled on the ground as her husband fought in front of her taking down anyone who dared to challenge him.
The Highlands hold great beauty and great danger.
She had been told that by her uncle and reminded again by Lord Cree. He had advised her to learn how to survive the Highlands. How did one learn to survive such savagery?
To her, the battle seemed to go on forever as she watched warrior after warrior fall while she prayed and prayed for it to end.
“Flora. Flora,” Torin said and gave his wife a shake as he pulled her to her feet. “Are you all right?”
Flora gazed at him, not quite sure of anything, though her eyes went wide when she spotted the blood dripping along the side of his face. “You are bleeding.”
“It is nothing. You were not harmed?” he asked.
When she did not respond immediately, her husband’s hand slipped beneath her cloak and roamed over her chest and along her waist.
“Nay! Nay!” she said quickly, his intimate touch having shocked her. “Is it over?”
“Aye, a small band of mercenaries who unwisely attacked skilled warriors,” Torin explained, his hand remaining at her slim waist.
“Why attack?” she asked.
“To rob us no doubt,” Torin said.
Flora thought she caught a note of question in his voice as if he was not quite certain. Normally, she would linger on it, try to discover more, but her mind was far too focused on his hand at her waist. Never having been touched with such familiarity by a man, she found herself curious that it did not feel unpleasant.
Her eyes soon caught sight of several bodies lying on the ground lifeless and quickly asked, “Your warriors?”
“A few minor wounds, nothing more.” He eased her against him. “You tremble.”
“My first battle,” she said, and surprisingly her body relaxed, as if instinctively, against him and she rested her hand, more like a grip, on his arm as if needing to shackle herself to him.
“You did well, wife,” he praised and meant it. She was pale and obviously frightened, yet she did not shed a tear.
“I cowered,” she said as if ashamed.
“Nay, you did as I ordered and that pleases me. If you had allowed fear to take root and had run, then that most definitely would have proven disastrous.”
“The thought never entered my head,” she admitted, annoyed that she had given no thought to what she might do to help. She had allowed fear to control her and that disturbed her.
“Good. That means you trust me and that also pleases me,” Torin said, thinking he had been wise in choosing to take her as his wife but then he never made foolish decisions. He had been taught better than that.
“We will keep going. I want to reach home by tomorrow morning,” he said, keeping his arm around her waist as he walked her to her horse.
“What of the dead?” she asked, casting a glance around to see the cleric praying over them.
“The forest animals will see to them,” he said. “You still tremble. You need to rest?”
“I need no rest,” she said and hurried her hand off him. She lowered her voice. “I will not show weakness in front of your men.”
“You do me proud, wife,” he said, surprised she had even given thought not to embarrass him and lifted her onto her horse.
It was not so much pride as it was stubbornness, but she would not tell him that. Besides, she would do better riding alone, allowing herself time to calm her trembles and her churning stomach.
“We will talk later,” Torin said after mounting his horse.
“Your wound needs cleansing,” she reminded.
“I will see to it,” he said and rode off, issuing orders to the cleric as he passed by him. “Waste no time on them, Cleric. They deserve no prayers.”
A deep chill shivered Flora. She was just beginning to see the unexpected danger that lurked in the Highlands, and she wondered if she would have the strength or skill to survive it.