Highlander Unchained (Highlander Trilogy 1)

“Finally light,” he grumbled and quickly set to lighting them.

He took a hunk of bread and scooped out the middle and inserted a candle creating a holder for it. He lit three more and did the same placing them around the blanket. He then turned his dark eyes on Dawn.

His murderous glare sent a chill racing through her clear down to her bones. He appeared ready to kill and she had no doubt that his look alone could send a man to his knees and have him begging for mercy.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded.

It was a harsh whisper that warned of retribution if not answered and Dawn reacted instinctively. She scrambled to her feet and backed away from him hoping the shadows would swallow her and protect her.

He was on his feet before the first shadow wrapped around her.

Chapter Eight

Cree grabbed her arm and her face pinched in pain. He cursed releasing her and scooped her up to carry her back to the blanket. He sat her close to the candles and gently pushed up the sleeve of her blouse.

His temper soared once again upon seeing the handprint that had left a large purple bruise, bound to grow worse by morning, around her upper arm. On closer examination he thought he saw two different prints and it fired his temper even more that two men had laid hands on her.

He then wondered if she had been hurt elsewhere or worse… “Has someone forced himself on you?”

She shook her head.

“Where else have you been hurt and don’t bother to lie to me or I’ll strip you bare and see for myself.”

She had no doubt that he would and so she lifted her skirt to show him her right leg.

He winced at the skin that had been rubbed raw from her knee down along her shin with a substantial bruise forming just beneath her knee. He didn’t hesitate; he reached for the bucket of water and placed it beside him. He then took the cloth that had covered one of the baskets, soaked and rinsed it in the bucket and began to clean her leg.

Her leg jumped from the pain.

“It needs cleaning and I do not have a light touch,” he said unapologetically and continued cleaning it. “This wound appears as if you were dragged. Who did this?”

It was not a request and while she did not wish to answer him, she knew she had little choice. And she knew this was only the start of his questions. But why should he care what happened to her? Then she recalled him telling her that he protected what belonged to him. And for some unfathomable reason he believed that she belonged to him.

She did what she had to do; she answered him. She pointed to the door.

“The one called John?” Cree asked understanding her.

She nodded.

“It looks as if two men left their prints on your arm. Who?”

She pointed again to the door.

“John and who else?”

She held her left hand up to a short height and placed her right hand next to it at a higher height.

Again he easily understood her. “Colum’s right hand man Goddard?”

She was not surprised that he understood her gesture but she was surprised that he knew the man’s name, though he probably had learned about Goddard when he had been captured.

She confirmed with another nod.

Cree looked up at her now and again as he worked on her leg, watching to see if he was causing her too much pain. But she appeared to bear his brute tending with patient courage. Her shin looked much better once he cleaned it, though the bruise had darkened and would no doubt pain her until healed as would her arm.

Once he deposited the cloth in the bucket he rested a gentle finger to her bruised cheek. “Did Colum do this?”

She nodded.

“How many times did he hit you?”

She held up two fingers.

“Why did he hit you?” He saw the hesitation in her eyes. “You’ll not keep it from me; I’ll have my answer.”

Somehow she thought that he always got his answer and with whatever means possible, though she had never expected that he would tend her. And she never expected that he would care that she’d been hurt… though as he had told her… she belonged to him.

She answered, pointing to him and then to herself, then she held up her hands and gave a shove in the air.

Cree had already surmised that he had been the cause but to hear it, he almost laughed at the absurdity of hearing a mute and yet he had heard her and much too clearly. He did not like the idea that she had suffered because of his own foolishness.

“I sent you away so Colum punished you,” he said to confirm what he had suspected.

She nodded, though much too slowly for Cree.