Highlander Unchained (Highlander Trilogy 1)

Chapter Three

Dawn approached the hut with reluctant steps. It was a confined shed used to house those Colum felt needed punishing. A slit no more than three fingers wide had been placed near the top of the door. It allowed the only light to enter and the guard to have a look.

Usually only one warrior stood watch. Two now stood outside in front and two others stepped from around back, snickered when they spotted her and returned to their posts.

She gripped the one basket and the bucket of water she carried and stopped a couple of feet from the warriors.

One stepped forward, equal in height to her though heavy in weight, and if she recalled correctly his name was John and the other warrior who had not moved she believed was Angus. Spending all her time in the kitchen and not permitted to serve in the Great Hall, she had little contact with the warriors and was not familiar with them all. And she preferred it that way.

John gave a quick look in the basket, nodded, and stepped back to open the door.

It was Angus, pale of skin and bright red hair who snorted and said, “We were told you were to take your time. So you will be leaving none too soon.”

With that John gave her a shove and as she stumbled through the open door, fighting to remain standing, she heard the wooden latch lowered firmly in place.

Trapped with a savage.

Her heart beat madly in her chest and her breathing turned labored. If she could speak she knew she would scream with fear. With the hut so small she had hit the far wall, only a few steps from the door leaving her to assume that the prisoner was on the other side and barely a few feet from her.

The gray skies and light rain allowed for little light to enter through the slot and so the confined space was mostly dark with a sprinkle of shadows. A slight stench stung the nose and she knew it would grow worse for the hut was only cleaned out after someone served their time.

She heard the rustle then and moved along the wall to the door, hoping what little light was available would reach into the shadows if she looked from a different angle. There was another movement, another rustle, and fear prickled her skin.

It took a moment to make sense of what she saw and when she finally did, she shivered. To her left in the corner a huge shadow loomed. It moved slightly and she pressed herself back in the corner by the door, her only means of escape yet by no means accessible.

“I can smell your fear.”

His voice was deep and tinged with menace and her legs went limp. She struggled to keep from collapsing and tried to calm her trembling hands. But he was right, her fear was potent, her courage slim.

Cree stepped out of the shadows and her breath stalled. He was so very large, more so at this short distance than seeing him from afar. And so sinfully handsome, even in dismal light, one would never think him a savage. But evil was a cohort of deception and she would do well to remember that.

“Colum sends me a plain one.”

For once Dawn was relieved to be thought plain, perhaps then he would not find her to his liking. At least she prayed he would not.

“Come over here.”

Though his voice low, it was no less a command. One that Dawn had no choice but to obey. It was seeing that his wrists were no longer bound that caused her to hesitate.

“I give an order only once.”

The threat in his tone left no doubt that she should pay quick heed to his warning. With limbs that refused to stop trembling, she stepped forward. Three small steps and she stood in front of him, her head lowered, daring not to glance in his eyes.

“Look at me,” he snapped so sharply that her head shot up.

If she could have gasped she would have, though in a sense her eyes did for they spread wide. His dark eyes intoxicated and as before she felt a tingling warmth take hold of her flesh.

“You will tend me.”

Not a question, but another command. She nodded and placed the burden of the basket and bucket on the ground. Reaching in the basket, she snatched a hunk of cheese to hand him.

He took it and as he broke off pieces to eat, he walked slowly around her, at times so close that his bare arms brushed against her. Even through her linen shift she felt his rock-hard muscles and knew his strength must be unfathomable.

He stopped in front of her. “You will need to stop trembling to see to my wounds.”

That he saw she quivered and smelled her fear, left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She often felt that way without a voice to defend herself. But what good would a voice do her now. Even if she screamed the guards would not come to her aid.