Read Online Highlander's Promise by Donna Fletcher - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Donna Fletcher
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away, there is no telling what could happen. You need to be prepared for anything.”
“We are,” Sloan informed him.
“Then tell me where my warriors would be most helpful to you.”
“It was good of him to come and offer help,” Sloan said after Kellmara was given instructions and took his leave. “He did not only come to escape his daughter’s wrath once she discovered what was going on. He came because he looks upon you as a son.” Sloan did not expect a response and Cree did not give one. “I will see if the King’s troops draw near.”
Cree sat alone at the table, thinking of what Sloan had said. His mum, a widowed peasant had fallen in love with a titled man and surprisingly he had fallen in love with her. Cree had been astonished to learn that Kellmara had plans to wed his mum and to claim him as his son. But Kellmara’s father learned of it and sent him away on what he thought would be a brief journey. His father forcibly kept him away for years and by the time he was able to return home, the woman he loved was dead and her son gone, along with his sister, Kellmara’s daughter he had not known about. It had taken Kellmara years to finally find them both.
The village bell tolled, announcing the arrival of the King’s guard just as Dawn rushed into the Great Hall. It pleased her to see Cree’s eyes widen at the sight of her. Dorrie had come to her bedchamber offering to help her dress for the arriving dignitary. At one time, she would not have trusted the woman, but unexpected events had turned Dorrie into a friend and now she welcomed her help.
She was glad she did, seeing how pleased Cree was by her appearance. Dorrie had swept her hair up, fashioning it into an intricate knot. Since she refused to wear a tunic over the soft green, wool shift, Dorrie tied a strip of leather around her waist to rest on Dawn’s hips, Dorrie had also suggested that she wrap her shawl high up around her neck to hide the bandage, but Dawn would not have it. She was proud for what she had done to save her husband’s life and she would not hide it. The shawl went around her shoulders to protect her from the autumn chill.
“How is it that you became more beautiful in the short time I was gone?” Cree said and kissed her lips lightly.
Dawn beamed at the compliment.
Cree offered his arm to her. “We greet our visitors together.”
That Cree took pride in her, though she could not talk, made her grateful every day that he had come into her life. To him, she had a voice, and he helped her to let it be heard.
They waited on the top steps as the King’s guard approached. Two enclosed wagons trailed the first troop of about twenty men and twenty more men trailed behind the wagons. Several more troops remained in the distance.
Cree and Dawn walked down the steps when a guard walked to the first enclosed wagon and placed a set of steps in front of the door before opening it. Cree was not happy to see Mathias Obern descend the steps. He was one of the King’s most trusted advisors. He made sure that the King’s orders were followed precisely. He cared not for excuses or reason. The King’s word was the King’s word and all would obey it even if it proved wrong. That, and he never cared for Cree, since he had not always followed the King’s edict, made Obern a thorn in Cree’s side.
Dawn felt the muscles in her husband’s arm grow taut. He was not happy with the man who approached them. He did not appear formidable, not even reaching her height and with not enough weight on him to lift a Highland sword. His features were pinched, though haughty and one could see at first glance that he thought himself of great importance.
“Cree,” the man said, stopping in front of him.
It was not lost on those around them that the man did not address Cree respectfully.
“What message do you have for me from the King, Obern?” Cree said, dismissing him as unimportant.
“I warned the King that you could never be taught
“We are,” Sloan informed him.
“Then tell me where my warriors would be most helpful to you.”
“It was good of him to come and offer help,” Sloan said after Kellmara was given instructions and took his leave. “He did not only come to escape his daughter’s wrath once she discovered what was going on. He came because he looks upon you as a son.” Sloan did not expect a response and Cree did not give one. “I will see if the King’s troops draw near.”
Cree sat alone at the table, thinking of what Sloan had said. His mum, a widowed peasant had fallen in love with a titled man and surprisingly he had fallen in love with her. Cree had been astonished to learn that Kellmara had plans to wed his mum and to claim him as his son. But Kellmara’s father learned of it and sent him away on what he thought would be a brief journey. His father forcibly kept him away for years and by the time he was able to return home, the woman he loved was dead and her son gone, along with his sister, Kellmara’s daughter he had not known about. It had taken Kellmara years to finally find them both.
The village bell tolled, announcing the arrival of the King’s guard just as Dawn rushed into the Great Hall. It pleased her to see Cree’s eyes widen at the sight of her. Dorrie had come to her bedchamber offering to help her dress for the arriving dignitary. At one time, she would not have trusted the woman, but unexpected events had turned Dorrie into a friend and now she welcomed her help.
She was glad she did, seeing how pleased Cree was by her appearance. Dorrie had swept her hair up, fashioning it into an intricate knot. Since she refused to wear a tunic over the soft green, wool shift, Dorrie tied a strip of leather around her waist to rest on Dawn’s hips, Dorrie had also suggested that she wrap her shawl high up around her neck to hide the bandage, but Dawn would not have it. She was proud for what she had done to save her husband’s life and she would not hide it. The shawl went around her shoulders to protect her from the autumn chill.
“How is it that you became more beautiful in the short time I was gone?” Cree said and kissed her lips lightly.
Dawn beamed at the compliment.
Cree offered his arm to her. “We greet our visitors together.”
That Cree took pride in her, though she could not talk, made her grateful every day that he had come into her life. To him, she had a voice, and he helped her to let it be heard.
They waited on the top steps as the King’s guard approached. Two enclosed wagons trailed the first troop of about twenty men and twenty more men trailed behind the wagons. Several more troops remained in the distance.
Cree and Dawn walked down the steps when a guard walked to the first enclosed wagon and placed a set of steps in front of the door before opening it. Cree was not happy to see Mathias Obern descend the steps. He was one of the King’s most trusted advisors. He made sure that the King’s orders were followed precisely. He cared not for excuses or reason. The King’s word was the King’s word and all would obey it even if it proved wrong. That, and he never cared for Cree, since he had not always followed the King’s edict, made Obern a thorn in Cree’s side.
Dawn felt the muscles in her husband’s arm grow taut. He was not happy with the man who approached them. He did not appear formidable, not even reaching her height and with not enough weight on him to lift a Highland sword. His features were pinched, though haughty and one could see at first glance that he thought himself of great importance.
“Cree,” the man said, stopping in front of him.
It was not lost on those around them that the man did not address Cree respectfully.
“What message do you have for me from the King, Obern?” Cree said, dismissing him as unimportant.
“I warned the King that you could never be taught
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