Read Online The Archer's Daughter by Melissa MacKinnon - Free Book Online
Authors: Melissa MacKinnon
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to die anyway, aren’t you, Dinner?” She cooed, turning her attention to the horse. It snorted and shook its head, pulling against the bit.
“You are a little murderous bitch, aren’t you?” A heavy laugh erupted from Owen, and he smiled. “He is called Jack, and I am thankful he still lives.”
“Why, so you can hide my armor again, my lord? In the pack the entire time? I should wallop you.” She left the horse to graze and knelt beside Owen. “Let us take a look, shall we?” Cate tenderly peeled away the fabric from the wound on Owen’s thigh, gently touching the reddened skin around the gash, looking for bleeding or more punctures. Slipping both palms inside the tear in his breeches, Cate wrapped her fingers around each side of his thigh, sliding her palms down the sinewy flesh. The muscle grew taught beneath her touch, and Owen sucked in a sharp breath when the back of her hand grazed his groin. Her eyes met his.
“The goods are still there, darling, you need not worry.”
Cate felt her cheeks flush. Returning to her examination, she gauged the full length of the wound. It was long but not overly deep. “It doesn’t seem as though it will kill you, but if we don’t deliver you to a physician soon, I fear the imminent pus will. I will clean it the best I can, and in the morning, we will ride to my village.” Cate withdrew her hands, the sudden change in temperature sending chills up her arms. “I fear the hardest part will be getting you there.”
“I’ll be fine.” Owen nodded in the direction of her wound. “What of you? Your wound bleeds.”
A darkened wet spot seeped through her tunic, and she covered the stain with her palm. She hadn’t noticed the blood until he mentioned it. “Bugger,” she cursed, gathering the hem of the tunic. She tugged at it, exposing her soiled bandage. “It looks as though we will both be needing that physician.” Cate smiled, but a silent panic took root in her chest. This wasn’t the way she had pictured her death.
Somehow, she managed to tear off a sleeve from a tunic on a dead man. It was relatively clean and would make do for a bandage. When she finished securing it around Owen’s wound, Cate helped him to stand. “We need to leave this place. The others are sure to collect their dead soon, and it would be best if we weren’t here. Can you ride?”
“You should take the horse,” he replied.
“This is no time to play the gentleman. Get on the horse before I slaughter it right here.” The idle threat worked, for Owen helped her saddle Jack. Cate helped Owen mount the uneasy beast, taking great care with placing his foot in the stirrup as to not disturb the makeshift bandage on his thigh. Owen gathered up the reins, all the while arguing that Cate should be the one riding, despite her evil looks.
Cate inspected the sky, seeking the position of the sun. Taking the horse by the bridle, she pointed it homeward, to Hawkhurst. She walked alongside the horse with her found bow slung loosely over her shoulder. Were they to be attacked, she would be ready. She decided they would cut through the forest and remain clear of the roads, as they were more apt to run into resistance along the well traveled paths. She knew the forest well and was confident she would lead them true. Cate also wanted to avoid meeting up with any of the Royal Guard, who may be seeking out Owen. That would not fare well for her… not at all.
Dinner the horse grew tired before long, giving Cate a reason to make camp for the night. She wouldn’t admit that she, too, was near the point of exhaustion. The events over the last several days had tested her endurance as well as her spirit. Never before had she faced such dire measures. The romps through the wood seemed like child’s games compared to what she faced now. Her well-thought-out plan to rid Kent of money-hungry thieving nobles was now just a distant memory.
The pair settled in a cluster of low-lying pine, the fallen needles
“You are a little murderous bitch, aren’t you?” A heavy laugh erupted from Owen, and he smiled. “He is called Jack, and I am thankful he still lives.”
“Why, so you can hide my armor again, my lord? In the pack the entire time? I should wallop you.” She left the horse to graze and knelt beside Owen. “Let us take a look, shall we?” Cate tenderly peeled away the fabric from the wound on Owen’s thigh, gently touching the reddened skin around the gash, looking for bleeding or more punctures. Slipping both palms inside the tear in his breeches, Cate wrapped her fingers around each side of his thigh, sliding her palms down the sinewy flesh. The muscle grew taught beneath her touch, and Owen sucked in a sharp breath when the back of her hand grazed his groin. Her eyes met his.
“The goods are still there, darling, you need not worry.”
Cate felt her cheeks flush. Returning to her examination, she gauged the full length of the wound. It was long but not overly deep. “It doesn’t seem as though it will kill you, but if we don’t deliver you to a physician soon, I fear the imminent pus will. I will clean it the best I can, and in the morning, we will ride to my village.” Cate withdrew her hands, the sudden change in temperature sending chills up her arms. “I fear the hardest part will be getting you there.”
“I’ll be fine.” Owen nodded in the direction of her wound. “What of you? Your wound bleeds.”
A darkened wet spot seeped through her tunic, and she covered the stain with her palm. She hadn’t noticed the blood until he mentioned it. “Bugger,” she cursed, gathering the hem of the tunic. She tugged at it, exposing her soiled bandage. “It looks as though we will both be needing that physician.” Cate smiled, but a silent panic took root in her chest. This wasn’t the way she had pictured her death.
Somehow, she managed to tear off a sleeve from a tunic on a dead man. It was relatively clean and would make do for a bandage. When she finished securing it around Owen’s wound, Cate helped him to stand. “We need to leave this place. The others are sure to collect their dead soon, and it would be best if we weren’t here. Can you ride?”
“You should take the horse,” he replied.
“This is no time to play the gentleman. Get on the horse before I slaughter it right here.” The idle threat worked, for Owen helped her saddle Jack. Cate helped Owen mount the uneasy beast, taking great care with placing his foot in the stirrup as to not disturb the makeshift bandage on his thigh. Owen gathered up the reins, all the while arguing that Cate should be the one riding, despite her evil looks.
Cate inspected the sky, seeking the position of the sun. Taking the horse by the bridle, she pointed it homeward, to Hawkhurst. She walked alongside the horse with her found bow slung loosely over her shoulder. Were they to be attacked, she would be ready. She decided they would cut through the forest and remain clear of the roads, as they were more apt to run into resistance along the well traveled paths. She knew the forest well and was confident she would lead them true. Cate also wanted to avoid meeting up with any of the Royal Guard, who may be seeking out Owen. That would not fare well for her… not at all.
Dinner the horse grew tired before long, giving Cate a reason to make camp for the night. She wouldn’t admit that she, too, was near the point of exhaustion. The events over the last several days had tested her endurance as well as her spirit. Never before had she faced such dire measures. The romps through the wood seemed like child’s games compared to what she faced now. Her well-thought-out plan to rid Kent of money-hungry thieving nobles was now just a distant memory.
The pair settled in a cluster of low-lying pine, the fallen needles
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