“Stay by me until we can discover what is going on,” he reminded, and Dawn nodded vigorously, letting him know she planned to do just that.
People crossed themselves and others turned away when they entered the village. At one time, Cree was known as an infamous mercenary, killing brutally, which had not been true. He had killed his fair share of men, but out of necessity, not for pleasure. Still, tales are often spun on partial truths until the truth disappears entirely and only the tale is left.
Dawn was confident that once the people got to know Cree, they might still fear him, but they would respect him and be confident in his ability to keep them from harm. She also noticed that many of the village women had sprigs of dried mugwort tucked in their hair and the men had some sticking from their pockets. Mugwort was meant to ward off evil. Did they actually believe a demon was among them and he was there on behest of the devil to swallow people whole?
It worried Dawn when she spotted a few people pointing at Beast. Did they think her large dog evil? If so would any try to harm him? She was relieved that Cree spotted it as well.
“There will be no harm brought to Beast of that I will make certain,” he assured her in a command he would make certain to issue.
She supposed that at times it was good for people to fear her husband. She watched him as they came to a stop at the keep. His eyes were on the abundance of trees that appeared to hug the keep and she had no doubt he would order them cut down, starting tomorrow—snow or no snow.
Only three stairs led to the keep door and that was where Chieftain Newlin waited. He was a man of medium height, slim with a small pouch to his stomach. He had a mixture of gray and white hair that held more curls than most women. He had good features and a pleasant smile that grew as he walked down the few stairs to greet Cree after he dismounted.
Chieftain Newlin waited until Cree helped Dawn off her horse before rushing down the stairs to greet him. “Ah cannae tell you how relieved I am that you are here, Lord Cree. And although the villagers may be leery of your presence, they are also thankful for it since they are aware of how fearless you are, and we need someone fearless to face our foe.” He waved them up the steps. “But come, you must be thirsty and famished after your journey and, of course, your wife will want to rest.” He cast a cautious eye at the large dog.
“It is good to see you again, Newlin, but be aware Beast goes where my wife goes,” Cree commanded, leaving no doubt he would have it no other way.
“As you say, my lord. I will have food made ready for him and a sleeping pallet added to your bedchamber,” Chieftain Newlin said as they climbed the three steps.
Cree held firm to his wife, the stone steps slippery from the snow.
“As you can see the dais is all set and ready for you to partake of its abundance,” Newlin said proudly when they entered the Great Hall.
“That is most hospitable of you but move it to a table near the hearth where my wife can warm herself,” Cree said.
“Of course, how foolish of me… the snow has chilled you both,” Newlin said and with a quick command the servants moved all the food to a table close to the hearth. A wood bowl filled with scraps waited near the hearth for Beast and he quickly devoured it.
Dawn turned a lovely smile on Chieftain Newlin and nodded.
“My wife extends her appreciation,” Cree explained.
Newlin kept his voice low and leaned in a bit to Cree. “I heard your wife had no voice. I am sorry for her burden.”
Cree’s laughter startled the man.
“Believe me, Newlin, you will soon learn my wife makes herself heard in many ways,” Cree said with pride. “Now let us sit so you may tell me more about your problem.”
Newlin took his seat opposite Cree after he sat and with his arms on the table and his head bent toward Cree, he whispered, “It is the devil. He is here among us.”
Cree’s only belief was that life was cruel, so you damn well better have strength and courage to survive it. He tore off a large piece of the bread that filled the wood bowl in the center of the table, then tore it in two and handed one piece to his wife.
“What makes you think it is the devil?” Cree asked.
“You know as well as I do myths abound in the Highlands. Some have no truth to them while others do. The myth about how one of the devil’s demons steals away people as fodder for the devil was one that I paid no heed to, but now…” Newlin shook his head. “It is happening here. It must be true. There is no other explanation.” He shook his head again. “This morning the village woke to find Ruth gone. She is an old woman, a skilled stitcher, but she has grown slow with age. Who would want a useless old woman?”