Read Online Spirited by Nancy Holder - Free Book Online

for Isabella to be taken inside. The two women who held her arms started speaking in higher, more excited voices.
    “Papa!” She strained to reach him, pushing the hand of the pretty woman away as she worked her arm free. She lurched forward, crying, “Please, he is a physician! Do any among you have wounds? Diseases? He can heal you!”
    A little boy trotted up beside her and swatted her on the thigh with a stick. Despite the layers of mud-caked petticoats that served as protective layersbetween her flesh and his weapon, the blow still hurt. When she yelped, he giggled at her and scampered away
    “We came in peace,” she said brokenly. “Will no one listen to me? I am … I am …”
    And then she heard the voice inside her head, the one that had carried on the wind.
    His voice, saying
“Mahwah”
    She said it aloud.
“Mahwah”
    The pretty woman beside her jerked her head toward her. Isabella’s eyes widened with hope that she had at last distracted her from her single-minded cruelty.
    “Mahwah,”
Isabella repeated.
    “Mahwah,”
the woman echoed, looking mildly shocked. Then she spoke to the other woman, who was rather plain and quite plump, and the two looked back at Isabella.
    “Mahwah,”
Isabella said again.
    The plain woman spoke to the pretty woman, and they both laughed. Then the pretty one yanked hard on Isabella’s rose-shaped earbob. It would have ripped through her earlobe except that the hanger broke in the woman’s grasp.
    “Ow!” Isabella cried.
    The woman danged it in front of Isabella’s face.
“Mahwah,”
she said, and placed the earbob into a small leather pouch back at her waist.
    “Please, take the other one as well,” Isabella urged,unfastening it from her ear. She held it out to the woman, who snatched it from her and tossed it lazily to her companion. Then she sneered at Isabella and flicked her forefinger against Isabella’s cheek, as if to say, I
may do whatever I wish to you.
    Then her father’s convoy reached the front of the hut; the flap was raised and they tossed him inside as if he were a cord of wood. The pretty woman glared at her with a look of triumph. Then she half-led, half-dragged Isabella toward the flap, which was still being held up by a very old woman who had no teeth. Isabella could see nothing beyond it; the interior of the hut was pitch dark.
    The pretty woman sneered at her and said,
“Mahwah!”
Then she drove Isabella into the hut, pushing her with all her strength.
    Isabella stumbled in the darkness and nearly fell over her father, who was lying on the floor.
    The flap dropped unceremoniously back into place.
    “Papa,” Isabella said, feeling for him. “Papa!” She was touching his face, her fingers running across his forehead. It was sticky and wet.
    “I’m … I’m all right, poppet,” he said hoarsely.
    “What is happening? What are they doing?”
    “I’m not certain.” His voice was strained. He coughed hard.
    “You’re lying to me,” she accused him. “Please, Papa, tell me what is to become of us.”
    “I …” He sighed. “My impression is that theymean to …” He cleared his throat. “You are very young and beautiful. It may be that one of the men will … marry you.”
    “Marry
me?” Her words were shrill. “That’s not what you really mean, is it, Papa?”
    “They are not Christians,” he reminded her. “They do not follow Christian practices.”
    “They do not marry, then.”
    “Not as we do, no.”
    “They do not marry. And they cut the hair off living men.” She choked back her sobs. “They murder men savagely. They butchered our escort and dispatched our wounded. Why have we been spared thus far?”
    “I cannot say, girl. Perhaps they realized that I was an officer.” He groaned. “Isabella, my hands are bound. Please see if you can untie them.”
    “Oh! I’m sorry,” she blurted, fumbling to find his wrists. He was lying on them; she eased him gently onto his side and started feeling the thick