Tavia thought to speak up and inform Lord Torin that her limp was not an injury but a permanent affliction. A thought rushed in her head that had her holding her tongue. Lord Torin would send word to her husband, and he could very well decide to dissolve their union. Where would that leave her clan?
Tavia spoke up. “My da is right, Lord Torin. Worry not, I am fine.”
Torin appeared doubtful but he let it be. Bhric would see to it when he arrived, though he wondered what he would think of the petite woman that was now his wife. His friend favored a strong, tall woman, one he did not have to coddle but possessed her own strength. Tavia would barely reach Bhric’s chin, and her pronounced limp made her appear weak.
Newlin was quick to direct the conversation away from his daughter once they were all seated at the table. “Do you really believe this young lass could be a key to the missing people?” he asked, looking to Cree.
“There were no signs of anyone being taken by force. No one heard screams of protest. Your people simply disappeared as if they walked off on their own. A wee lass beckoning to them for help would certainly have them going willingly to her aid,” Cree said.
“I was thinking over this last night,” Torin joined in. “What if the demon takes the shape of a lass?”
His suggestion had Newlin looking to Cree for confirmation. “Have you ever heard of a demon capable of doing that?”
“Demons possess the devil’s power. They can do anything,” Torin said.
“Not true,” came the soft, whispery voice behind him.
Torin turned and was struck by the beauty of the woman standing behind him. Her long dark hair lay in waves around her shoulders and her wide dark eyes trimmed with long lashes added to her beauty. But it was the softness of her voice that caught his full attention—soft on the ears.
Flora walked around the table to sit next to Dawn.
“Lord Torin, may I introduce my niece, Flora,” Newlin said and kept his smirk to himself, hoping that an idea that had come to him had a good chance of seeing fruition.
“A pleasure to meet you, Flora, but why do you disagree with my remark?” he asked, wanting to hear her speak to make sure her voice was as gentle as he had heard.
Cree watched not only the exchange with interest but Newlin as well. The death of his wife may have changed the man, but there was still a sharpness to his mind. And one thing Newlin was always good at was taking advantage of an unexpected situation. Cree had an idea of what Newlin was thinking and with how talkative Flora was, he had a feeling she would fall right into Newlin’s trap. But Newlin’s family matters were not his concern.
Flora kept in mind the bargain she made with her uncle. She should have known it would not be easy to do—hold her tongue. The words had slipped right out of her mouth when she had heard the warlord say what he did. He obviously was not a learned man, and she could not help but correct him. She had to keep her response brief and after that offer no more to the conversation.
“The devil is selfish,” Flora said softly and reached for a piece of bread. If she kept her mouth full, she would not speak.
Torin smiled, pleased by her whispery voice. “I see what you mean. The devil would not share his power.”
Flora nodded and chewed the bread slowly to keep her mouth occupied.
Tavia spoke up seeing that Flora was fighting to hold her tongue and received a small, but grateful nod from Flora. “The devil is not only selfish, but greedy. He certainly would not want his demons as strong as him. And they would not need to be since what little power he bestows on them far surpasses our own.”
“So, is it a lass or a demon in the woods?” Torin asked.
“We will find out,” Cree said without a bit of doubt. “But for now, Newlin, see that word spreads that no one is to approach a young lass who beckons to them for help. They are to alert the nearest sentinel.”
Torin focused on Flora, a thought poking at him. “It is a shame your visit here is marred by this incident. Hopefully, it will not shorten your stay.”
“Flora does not visit. This is her home since her parents died a few months back,” Newlin explained.
Flora wished her uncle had kept that to himself. She hated having to depend on him. She would much rather be on her own, no man dictating her life, a conversation she and her mother had shared frequently.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Torin said. “I lost my parents one after the other a couple of years ago.”