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)
Flora watched as extra warriors were posted around the camp that night. Even the cleric seemed on edge as if expecting something to jump out of the dark, the way he nervously glanced at the dark woods. And where had her husband been? She had not seen him until they made camp and even then, he had not approached her. Only now after the camp was settled did he walk toward her.
“Is there reason to worry of another attack?” Flora asked when he lowered himself down beside her in front of the campfire. He had cleansed his head wound, a small cut the only reminder of it.
“Nay, no worries,” he assured her.
“Then why do you double the guards and why does the cleric stare with fear into the dark woods?”
“Those are questions you need not trouble yourself with,” Torin said.
The firmness in his voice warned her to let it be, but she ignored it. “But they do trouble me. Is there reason to expect another attack?”
He looked at her oddly and she knew his thoughts. He wondered why she was not as quiet and curious when he had first met her at Clan Strathearn.
“It is an extra precaution that is all,” Torin said, surprised by her questions. He had seen only a hint of curiosity from her at Clan Strathearn and little talk. But it could be fear from the attack that had her questioning him. “I keep safe what is mine. There is nothing to fear.”
What is mine.
Was she simply chattel to him? A possession to do with as he pleased. It was one of the reasons she did not wish to wed. She did not want to be owned. Her parents had wed for love, but that was not the way of it for most couples. Marriages were arranged, couples wed, strangers to each other as she was now.
Trapped. That was what she was… trapped.
Torin stood. “I have things I must see to. Sleep. We leave at dawn and ride until we reach home.”
She watched him join two warriors who talked, then without a glance back disappeared into the woods with them. He never joined her before she slept but morning found him beside her. She was beginning to realize he was a husband who would keep secrets from his wife. They would not be partners and share all as her mum and da had done. She would be nothing more than a possession to him and that did not set well with her.
Flora learned to appear disinterested when talk went on around her so that her da’s friends and acquaintances would carry on conversations in front of her, thinking she paid them no heed. She had learned much having acquired such a skill and she intended to make use of it now.
She stood and walked slowly around the camp, glancing around, stretching her shoulders back, pushing at the snow on the ground with her foot as if she discovered something interesting, all the while listening.
“You think he will find him?”
“He will find him.”
“If he is alive.”
“God help whoever may have hurt him.”
“Or worse killed him.”
“Lord Torin will tear him apart piece by piece.”
“He will find Kinnell have no doubt.”
Flora settled herself back down on the blanket by the campfire. She surmised what she could from what she had heard. Kinnell had arrived with Torin at Clan Strathearn. She had learned he was not only Torin’s tracker but a longtime friend. She had not seen him much while on their journey. Giving it thought, he must have been off seeing if there were tracks of any kind that might prove a threat to them. That they had been attacked without warning meant that something must have prevented Kinnell from warning them. And with only having seen her husband for a short time after they had camped, she concluded that he had been searching for his friend the whole time and now continued to do so.”
Her glance went to the cleric, still staring off into the dark woods, and she decided to see if he knew anything.
She walked over to him, studying him as she went. He was short and had a disheveled look about him and the odor that drifted off him was proof that his brown robe and body both needed a good washing.
“I do not mean to disturb you, Cleric,” she said softly, “but I could use your guidance.”
“Of course, my child, sit,” he offered and patted the spot beside him.
Flora sat glad for the strong scent of the burning wood that helped mask the cleric’s odor. “I was hoping you could give me some guidance on how to best serve my husband.”
She had to clear her throat since she felt as if she choked on her false words.
“Submit, my child,” the cleric said, “submit to your husband’s wisdom.”