No it was not possible. She couldn’t be falling in love with the devil. Cree was no devil. He provided well for his people whether it was shelter, sustenance or a healer to tend their ills. He had a celebration feast after claiming the village and provided the people with food, drink and… hope. That is what he had been giving them, hope.
She stood and removed her cloak and after hanging it on the peg, she picked the twigs and leaves off it. Hope filled everyone’s heart in the village, everyone except hers. She had to keep reminding herself that this was her lot and she would need to accept it.
How did she do that if she was falling in love with Cree? How did she remain his mistress always wondering when he would discard her in favor of another? How would it be when he took a wife and had children… and what if she bore him children?
Dawn shook her head, the thoughts too heavy to linger on. Her day had been troubling enough. She didn’t need to add more angst to it. She would keep herself busy.
Idle hands, she heard her mother’s warning strong in her head and held her hands out in front of her. They were dirty, one worse than the other and it reminded her of how she must look from her scuffle in the woods.
She frowned. Why did someone want her dead? It made no sense. She grabbed the rope handle of the bucket near the hearth and went to the door. She startled when she opened the door. Neil stood in front of it, his arms braced across his chest.
“You’ll not be going anywhere,” he said bluntly.
She held up the bucket to him and he snatched it out of her hand.
“Close the door,” he barked and stood there waiting until she did.
If she thought that had been even a small possibility of getting passed him, she quickly discarded it. She wished Elwin was still her guard. He was pleasant, perhaps if she requested him.
A rough knock at the door had her jumping. She opened the door and Neil shoved the full bucket at her.
She nodded her thanks and shut the door, her thoughts drifting back to why Neil was stationed there in the first place. She was unimportant, one among many peasants. It was truly a puzzle why anyone would want her dead. She was so insignificant.
Her troubled thoughts soon vanished as she began to wash herself replaced by thoughts of Cree’s return and her body began to tingle all over again.
~~~
Cree stood in front of the two men tied to posts in a pen. He tapped his fisted hand against his mouth staring at the two. The younger one was scared to death, already having wet himself. The older, and obviously more seasoned warrior, stood defiant. Cree didn’t trust either one of them.
He unfurled his fist and rested his arms across his chest. “I do not repeat myself so when I ask you a question, I will ask it only once. Answer it and you’ll spare yourself suffering. Don’t and I promise you that you’ll pray for death?”
The younger one started babbling immediately. “I don’t know anything. I was instructed to lead you on a chase until you chased no more. I don’t even carry a weapon. And I never met this man.” He gave a nod to the prisoner next to him.
“Then how was it that you knew exactly where and when we would give pursuit?”
The young man paled.
“The truth or suffer the consequences,” Cree threatened.
It was the seasoned warrior who spoke up. “Either way we’re dead men.”
“True, but it is how you wish to die that is your choice; agonizing pain or quickly.”
The young man babbled once again. “We were each hired by different people and sent to meet at a designated spot.”
“How many?” Cree asked.
“Four of us. One issued the instructions, though never gave us any reason why the woman was to die.”
Cree’s hand fisted and his stomach clenched.
“We would have been done with our mission and on our way if you hadn’t shown up,” the older warrior said with a bitter sneer. “Between Colum watching over her and you rutting with her so—”
The warrior’s head snapped back from the fierce blow Cree landed on his jaw. The second one came just as fast and sent his head lolling to one side where it stayed.
Cree turned away from the man, his eyes going to Sloan. “Revive him.”
Sloan took a bucket of water and threw it in the man’s face, then grabbed him by the hair and slapped his face until he opened his eyes.
“Who sent you?” Cree demanded coming to stand in front of the man again.
“Go to hell,” the warrior spat.
“Wrong answer.” Cree hit him again, only this time much harder. He split his bottom lip wide open and blood poured out. He stepped away from him for a moment and when he turned around he held a dirk in his hand.