“Are you all right, Dawn?” he asked lifting her chin with one finger.
She had not realized that she had lowered her head, but then it had been weighted with too many thoughts and no doubt had sunk on its own. Though she was not sure how she felt, she nodded.
“I want the truth, not what you think I want to hear,” he chided.
So he wanted the truth? She threw her hands up in frustration. Was that a smile? It had been brief but she thought she caught a smile tempt the corners of his mouth.
“You need a washing, clean garments, food, and rest.”
And time to herself, she added silently.
Cree was suddenly issuing orders and some of the warriors that circled them formed a line on either side of them. Another order had the circle parting and forming a line facing the woods while Cree and her kept pace with the warriors shielding them.
It wasn’t lost to Dawn that Cree kept her tucked close against him with his arm around her waist. He held her with the ease of familiarity. And why? Simple. They had become more than familiar with each other while in that hut, and it hadn’t stopped.
Dawn was never so relieved to walk into her new home, though she stopped abruptly once inside the door. The table was laden with food and her stomach gurgled with joy. Then she saw that the table was arranged for two people and her heart sank. She had hoped to be alone, have a chance to think, to make a modicum of sense of all that had happened to her in such a short time.
Cree gently nudged her forward so that he could shut the door. He slipped off her cloak and went and hung it on the peg. He then eased her down in one of the chairs at the table.
“I was going to join you but first I must see to this incident.”
How could she feel relieved and disappointed at the same time? She wanted time alone and here she was sorry that he was leaving.
“I will return later.”
A tingle of anticipation settled between her legs and she scolded herself for her body’s wicked reaction.
Cree stopped beside her at the table and leaned over her. He raised his hand, though stopped in mid-air, as if he questioned his actions and then as if resigned to the inevitable he stroked her bruised jaw with the back of his fingers.
“I will find who did this to you and I will see him punished.”
The resolve in his voice sent a small tremor through her but it was his kiss that made her shiver and tingle. It was so unexpected and so very tender that it made her feel cherished like never before.
“Until later,” he whispered and brushed his lips lightly across hers, then walked out the door.
Dawn gasped, though no sound was heard, when she realized that she had been holding her breath.
Later.
He would return and what then would he expect of her? Her thoughts were quickly diverted when she eyed the meat on a platter. She stared in awe at it. She could not recall the last time she ate meat, though she did recall the delicious taste of it.
She stared a few minutes more not believing that she could actually reach out and take a piece and not just one but many. She smiled and snatched a slice. It was more delicious than she remembered. She grew bolder and tasted from the other platters and bowls amazed at the tastiness of the food. Though she hated to admit it, Turbett was a far better cook than Flanna.
A crack of thunder caused her to jump and soon after that the rain started growing heavier by the minute. Dawn sighed inwardly feeling lucky that she was in a warm place with plenty of food.
She sprung up in her chair, struck by an unexpected thought. Dorrie. Good lord, she could not be left out in this rain all night. She would catch her death and Dawn could never live with that. Dorrie might not be a friend to her, but illness and death was too much of a punishment to suffer for her foolishness. She hurried to the door not bothering to collect her cloak. The rain would soak it quickly enough, and then it would prove more hindrance than help.
As soon as she opened the door one of Cree’s warriors blocked her from leaving.
“You are to stay here,” he said. “Cree’s orders.”
She shut the door and stood in thought. Then she remembered the window and hurried into the other room. She pushed the flat-top trunk beneath the window, yanked open the heavy shutters and hoisted herself up and partially out the window. Once her waist cleared it, her weight took her down the rest of the way. The mud eased her fall, though didn’t help with her appearance.
It didn’t matter though, her priority was Dorrie. The woman may have treated her badly at times but leaving her locked in stocks in a rainstorm was beyond horrific. It was inhuman.
She crept along the edge of the woods, steeling herself against the fright that ran through her when it stormed, until she was far enough away so that the warrior standing guard could not see her, and then she ran. The heavy rain had turned the ground quickly to mud and with dusk giving way to night and clouds covering what little moonlight there was, and it raining buckets, it would soon be difficult to see where one was going.
Dawn hurried through the empty village, everyone having retreated to their homes. She stopped briefly when she spied Dorrie. Her head hung down as if there was no life left in her and Dawn rushed to her side.
When she laid her hand on Dorrie’s shoulder, the woman barely raised her head, though she did managed to say, “I’m sorry.”
Dawn didn’t wait. She grabbed hold of the metal spike that locked the stock and pulled. It was wet and difficult to keep hold of and it took much effort to pry it out. Her arms ached from the task and once done with the one, she worked on the other. The top part of the stock was heavy and she feared for a moment that she would not be able to lift it without hurting Dorrie but after a struggle she got it off without harm to the woman.
Dorrie had trouble raising her neck and lifting her wrists so Dawn helped her and once free of the stock, she collapsed against Dawn.
“Bless you, bless you,” Dorrie said over and over.
Dawn nodded and slipped Dorrie’s arm over her shoulder and forced her to walk along with her. The rain was so bad Dawn could barely see in front of her and supporting Dorrie’s weight didn’t help the situation. But Dawn did not give up. She had to get Dorrie to the cottage and get a hot brew into her and some food and get her into dry garments.
Dorrie was near to collapsing when they reached the cottage. Dawn didn’t even think of returning through the window. She marched Dorrie right to the front door.
The warrior rushed to her, his mouth dropped open in shock that she was standing there and was not in the cottage. And when he caught sight of Dorrie...
“She belongs in the stock until Cree orders otherwise.” He reached out to grab Dorrie from her.
Dawn swerved to avoid him while her other hand shot out and gave him a shove he hadn’t expected. He went down hard giving her enough time to get Dorrie inside the cottage and latch the door.
“He will punish you for helping me.” Dorrie barely got the words out she was so weak.
Dawn didn’t bother to respond. She would face that problem when the time came. Now she needed to help Dorrie. She set the pitcher of cider near the hearth to heat while she hurried to the other room and snatched a fine wool skirt, wool stockings and linen blouse from the trunk.
“So much food,” Dorrie said. “Surely I am dreaming or,” —tears ran down her eyes— “I have died and gone to heaven.”
Dawn took a piece of meat and handed it to Dorrie.
Dorrie looked skeptical and glanced around, as if expecting someone to appear and punish her for even thinking of taking the meat.
Dawn shoved the meat into her hand and retrieved the pitcher of cider from the hearth and filled a tankard.
Once Dorrie took a bite of the delicious meat she couldn’t stop, she reached for more and she followed it with several gulps of cider. Her shivers grew worse as she continued to eat. Dawn hurried to collect the rain water and set it to heat by the hearth. The she prodded Dorrie and yanked at her w
et garments. When she finally got Dorrie’s full attention she held up the dry clothes and pointed to her wet ones.
“For me?” Dorrie asked incredulously.
Dawn nodded.
Tears rimmed Dorrie’s eyes. “Why? I have treated you so badly and yet you help me.”
Dawn patted her chest, shook her head and pointed at her.
Dorrie scrunched her brow and then as if understanding dawned on her she said, “It doesn’t matter what I’ve done,” —tears trickled down her cheeks— “you cannot see me suffer.”
Dawn nodded.
“I’m sorry, so very sorry,” Dorrie cried, her body shivering.
Dawn shook her head and urged her to drink more cider. Then she brought the bucket of heated rain water to rest beside Dorrie’s chair and once she put the tankard down, Dawn tugged at her blouse.
“I am soaked to the bone,” Dorrie said hurrying to strip off her clothes.
Dawn and Dorrie worked together washing the mud off Dorrie while the woman cried. Dawn wasn’t sure what to do. So when they finally finished and Dorrie was dressed in clean garments, Dawn ran and got a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around Dorrie hugging her, hoping to stop her shivers.
Dawn was shocked when Dorrie slipped her arms out of the blanket and hugged her tightly.
“I will not forget what you have done for me.”
Dawn smiled and handed her another piece of meat. Dorrie took it, smiled, and reached for a piece of meat handing it to Dawn.
~~~
Cree was ready to kill someone. “How did the culprit manage to elude my best tracker and warriors?”
Sloan rubbed his chin. “I don’t know.”
Cree glared at him. “Not an acceptable answer.”
“I agree, but it is the only answer that I presently have for you, my lord. The rainstorm has hampered attempts to continue tracking. We will try again in the morning whether it continues to rain or not. But I do not hold any hope.”
“You feel he has gotten away?”
Sloan nodded. “I do, though I wonder if he waits for another chance to get Dawn, not wanting to return to Colum having failed his mission.”
“Dawn will have a guard with her at all times. She is to go nowhere without one.” Cree poured himself another tankard of ale. “And make certain that the men are aware that she cannot scream out to them for help. They must keep an eye on her at all times.”
“I cannot imagine the terror she must have felt when she was attacked and could not scream out for help.”
Cree gripped his tankard so hard that his knuckles turned white and his expression murderous. That very thought had haunted him from when he had first laid eyes on Dawn’s bruises. She could not scream out in rage or fear, though no doubt she had wanted to. Her voice was forever trapped inside her, leaving her much too vulnerable.
He did not like the thought of her being vulnerable to anyone but him. Perhaps a few lessons in how to defend herself would prove helpful.
“I must say I admire her bravery. She did not surrender or give into the thug. She fought, even though he pummeled her face. And what amazes me even more is that she sought no help afterwards. She saw to her own wounds.” Sloan shook his head, as if he didn’t believe it.
Cree slammed his fist on the table causing Sloan to jump. “She did not seek help because she assumed no one would care what had happened to her. This land and these people belong to me and I want them all, every one of them, to know that they are now under my protection and that I will let no harm come to them. Dawn has been harmed and I want them to see with their own eyes what I do to those who attempt to harm what is mine.”
“I believe that you have made yourself clear by putting Dorrie in the stocks. Tongues have been wagging incessantly about it, though no one has dared speak against it.”
“They will learn to follow my decrees or suffer the consequences. Speak with Dorrie tomorrow and see what she can tell you about this Seth that she claims is the one who delivered Old Mary’s message. And have you spoken to Old Mary?”
“I have and she was quite upset that someone had used her to hurt Dawn.”
“Move Old Mary to Dawn’s cottage,” Cree ordered. “She is too old to be living removed from the village, besides her eyes and ears will better serve me here.”
“She is old and set in her ways, she may protest—”
“Did I say it was a request? And are you implying that the old woman intimidates you?”
Sloan leaned closer and lowered his voice. “The men believe that she is a witch, sometimes knowing things before they happen.”
“She is an old woman, no doubt wise for her years and she watches and listens. That is how she is able to predict what will happen. And she is friend to Dawn unlike the villagers who ignore her. Dawn treats her well and sees that she has food when no one else cares.”
“How is Dawn?” Sloan asked.
“You care?” Cree asked with a quirk of his brow.
“She intrigues me for one who has no voice.”
“Do not let her intrigue you too much,” Cree warned.
“Jealous?” Sloan grinned.
“I keep warning you about your tongue.”
“And yet it is still whole in my mouth.”
A commotion at the entrance to the Great Hall kept Cree from responding and when both men saw who had entered they jumped out of their seats.
“Elwin, are you not supposed to be guarding Dawn?” Sloan demanded hurrying around the table to stand in front of the warrior who stood dripping rainwater on the wood floor.
“Tannin is standing guard—”
“What has happened?” Cree snapped with anger.
Elwin took a step back and bowed his head. “The silent one got out of the cottage and went and freed Dorrie, then brought her back to the cottage. They are both there now.”
Cree looked ready to choke the man. “How does a woman escape a man of your size and girth and why didn’t you return Dorrie to the stocks?”
“I stopped her when she opened the door. I told her that she could not leave, your orders.” He hesitated reluctant to continue, though knew he had no choice. “I can only assume that she got out through the window in the other room. And as for Dorrie,” —he took a breath— “I tried but the silent one tricked me and got into the cottage and latched the door before I could stop her.”
“I’m admiring this woman more and more,” Sloan said though refrained from grinning.
Cree turned on him and Sloan was quick to raise his hands. “You must admit that it takes mettle and a generous heart to help someone who has wronged you.”
“Or foolishness,” Cree said. “Of which I intend to put an end to. Sloan, go get Lila I have no doubt I’ll have need of her. Elwin, you follow me. Dorrie will be returned to the stocks and Dawn... shall learn the consequences of disobeying me.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Dorrie sat at the table, in fresh garments, her hands wrapped around a tankard of hot cider while Dawn hung the wet towels by the fire to dry. Dorrie’s garments were another matter. They would need washing and so Dawn placed them in basket for her to take home.
“I should be doing that,” Dorrie said. “You have done more than enough for me already. And I cannot thank you enough.”
Dawn shook her head and pointed to Dorrie’s tankard, then her mouth and then she smiled and rubbed her stomach and hugged herself.
Dorrie nodded and Dawn was glad to see her smile. “The cider does warm me, though I thought nothing would take the dreaded chill from my bones. It is amazing how when I watch you speak with your hands that I can truly understand what you’re saying.”
Dawn rolled her finger over and over in front of her mouth.
Dorrie giggled. “You talk a lot. That’s funny.”
Dawn lifted the bucket of water now dark from the mud she had washed off Dorrie and went to the door to empty it.
“Let me do that,” Dorrie said but Dawn shook her head before the woman cou
ld move.
Dawn tugged at her wet garments.
“Oh, I suppose you’re right. You’re still wet while I’m finally dry and warm. You must fill the bucket again so that I can help you wash up and slip into dry, warm garments.”
Dawn nodded, unlatched the door and lightning struck just as she swung it open. It pierced the distant ground and electrified the sky outlining the dark figure bearing down on her cottage while another figure followed behind him.
She dropped the bucket outside and hurried back into the cottage leaving the door open not doubting in the least that if she didn’t, Cree would break it down. She rushed Dorrie out of the chair and brazenly took a protective stance in front of her.
“Oh my God, he’s here isn’t he?” Dorrie said her voice trembling. And she reached out and grasped Dawn’s hand tightly, as if by holding onto her she could save her from Cree’s wrath.
Dawn kept her eyes on the open door. She did not rescue Dorrie only to see her returned to the stocks. How she would prevent it, she did not know. She only knew that she would stand her ground against Cree, for she did not believe Cree would do her harm.
Dawn heard Dorrie gasp behind her when Cree bowed his head to enter the cottage, the door not tall enough to accommodate his height and his shoulders so wide that they scraped the door frame. His leather tunic dripped rainwater as did his wet hair that appeared as black-as-night and his face wore such a threatening scowl that it had Dorrie inching closer to Dawn.
Dawn raised her chin determined to see Dorrie kept safe and then Elwin entered the cottage and Dawn’s resolve suffered a blow. He was here to take Dorrie to the stocks and how could she, one voiceless woman, stop the large warrior from doing so?
“I do not know what you think you are doing,” Cree said in a tone so cold that a chill circled the room. “But she,”— he pointed to Dorrie— “goes back to the stocks now. And you will answer to me for your insolence.”
Dawn did not know what made her do it, perhaps it was all she had suffered through lately, or perhaps she was simply tired of constant threats and no longer cared what happened to her. Whatever the reason it didn’t matter, her hands were moving before she could stop them.
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