want to be the cause
of anyone’s troubles. Besides, she couldn’t come up with a plan which afforded
her safety and that of the Champlains.
She wished she could recall memories
of her childhood. The past might be vital in knowing who to trust and who not
to. There didn’t seem to be a way to appease the MacHeth laird. He expected a
bride for someone within his clan.
A noise sounded like a shout outside
the tent. Then she heard the sound of metal clanking and men’s voices. Bree
scrambled to her feet when the tent flew away. There wasn’t a bit of wind to
whip it away. She didn’t scream, but stood shocked. Her bare feet were as still
as if she sunk in a deep bog. Towering around her were four very tall, very
strong looking warriors. Their glares were enough to frighten her to death.
“Gracious, Mary! They are huge,” she
muttered to herself. “Oh saints be praised, this was not a fair idea. Nay, nay,
this was a mistake. Oh, God. God, pray this is a dream.”
Bree had forgotten she’d removed her
overdress and stood sparsely clad in her shift. She was so shocked by the sight
of the men she hadn’t bothered to cover herself. If she only realized the image
she presented to the warriors, she might have screamed then and ran to hide in
the nearby woods.
None of the men spoke to her or to
the guard. The commander and his men threw their swords in a pile near the
fire. Fat lot of good they were. They should be protecting her, not giving up
before the fighting even began. What cowards.
She noticed Cait hunched beside a
tree, trying to hide. Bree didn’t know what to do. Usually Cait was the brave
one, at least she that’s what she had everyone believing. All those in the
group seemed incapable of finding out what the warriors wanted. It was up to
her. Somewhere from deep within her, she drew up the courage to speak to them.
“Good eve, sirs. Please do not harm
us. We are only traveling through. We do have food to offer.” She glanced at
the pot and saw it was empty. “Oh, God above. I am sorry but the pottage is
gone. I would be pleased to make more if you are hungry.”
The warriors looked aghast at the
suggestion. Either that there was no more pottage or she’d offered to make
more. She wasn’t sure what she’d said to offend them. Mayhap they didn’t speak
English and so she questioned them in God’s language.
It was a good thing she’d paid
attention during mass. In doing so, she’d learned the Latin spoken by the
clergy and some of the elders who still used the language. They didn’t respond
to the words when she asked them what they wanted.
The men didn’t seem inclined to
speak to her. Bree turned to her right to look at Bennett, but he looked more
fearful than she. His eyes widened with panic and his silver hair stuck out as
if he’d seen a ghost. They were definitely cowards. But she supposed if she was
faced with going against these men, she’d give up her sword too.
“Pray tell me what you want,” she
said again, now more direct and demanding.
Another warrior came through the
trees, and beyond him, another followed. The taller man approached and had that
‘I’m in charge’ look by the way he sauntered toward them. Bree stepped
backward, becoming alarmed. They certainly looked intimidating, brawny, and
lanky.
“What do they feed you? You’re all
as tall as the pines.” she said aloud, absently remarking on their height.
Though she was scared before, she
was now terrified. The taller man had long dark hair, making him appear
ruthless. His muscles looked hard and his chest wide—very formidable. Never had
she seen a man so well made nor so handsome. Yet his size scared her.
She took her time looking at his
face, taking notice of his dark eyebrows above the steely cold gray eyes—eyes
that pierced her with his gaze. He kept them on her making her self-conscious,
Bree wanted to disappear. He was the strongest looking warrior she’d ever seen.
Her legs started shaking and
of anyone’s troubles. Besides, she couldn’t come up with a plan which afforded
her safety and that of the Champlains.
She wished she could recall memories
of her childhood. The past might be vital in knowing who to trust and who not
to. There didn’t seem to be a way to appease the MacHeth laird. He expected a
bride for someone within his clan.
A noise sounded like a shout outside
the tent. Then she heard the sound of metal clanking and men’s voices. Bree
scrambled to her feet when the tent flew away. There wasn’t a bit of wind to
whip it away. She didn’t scream, but stood shocked. Her bare feet were as still
as if she sunk in a deep bog. Towering around her were four very tall, very
strong looking warriors. Their glares were enough to frighten her to death.
“Gracious, Mary! They are huge,” she
muttered to herself. “Oh saints be praised, this was not a fair idea. Nay, nay,
this was a mistake. Oh, God. God, pray this is a dream.”
Bree had forgotten she’d removed her
overdress and stood sparsely clad in her shift. She was so shocked by the sight
of the men she hadn’t bothered to cover herself. If she only realized the image
she presented to the warriors, she might have screamed then and ran to hide in
the nearby woods.
None of the men spoke to her or to
the guard. The commander and his men threw their swords in a pile near the
fire. Fat lot of good they were. They should be protecting her, not giving up
before the fighting even began. What cowards.
She noticed Cait hunched beside a
tree, trying to hide. Bree didn’t know what to do. Usually Cait was the brave
one, at least she that’s what she had everyone believing. All those in the
group seemed incapable of finding out what the warriors wanted. It was up to
her. Somewhere from deep within her, she drew up the courage to speak to them.
“Good eve, sirs. Please do not harm
us. We are only traveling through. We do have food to offer.” She glanced at
the pot and saw it was empty. “Oh, God above. I am sorry but the pottage is
gone. I would be pleased to make more if you are hungry.”
The warriors looked aghast at the
suggestion. Either that there was no more pottage or she’d offered to make
more. She wasn’t sure what she’d said to offend them. Mayhap they didn’t speak
English and so she questioned them in God’s language.
It was a good thing she’d paid
attention during mass. In doing so, she’d learned the Latin spoken by the
clergy and some of the elders who still used the language. They didn’t respond
to the words when she asked them what they wanted.
The men didn’t seem inclined to
speak to her. Bree turned to her right to look at Bennett, but he looked more
fearful than she. His eyes widened with panic and his silver hair stuck out as
if he’d seen a ghost. They were definitely cowards. But she supposed if she was
faced with going against these men, she’d give up her sword too.
“Pray tell me what you want,” she
said again, now more direct and demanding.
Another warrior came through the
trees, and beyond him, another followed. The taller man approached and had that
‘I’m in charge’ look by the way he sauntered toward them. Bree stepped
backward, becoming alarmed. They certainly looked intimidating, brawny, and
lanky.
“What do they feed you? You’re all
as tall as the pines.” she said aloud, absently remarking on their height.
Though she was scared before, she
was now terrified. The taller man had long dark hair, making him appear
ruthless. His muscles looked hard and his chest wide—very formidable. Never had
she seen a man so well made nor so handsome. Yet his size scared her.
She took her time looking at his
face, taking notice of his dark eyebrows above the steely cold gray eyes—eyes
that pierced her with his gaze. He kept them on her making her self-conscious,
Bree wanted to disappear. He was the strongest looking warrior she’d ever seen.
Her legs started shaking and
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