Dark Warrior (Warrior 2) - Page 5

She fell into a troubled slumber, Michael’s protective presence a haven from her fears.

Daylight was fading when she woke to find herself alone. She grew anxious over Michael’s absence, then realized how foolish her thought. He would not abandon her; he had entered into an agreement with Magnus to see to her safety. She could rely on him at least for now. Eventually she would have only herself to rely on and she would survive. She could not allow Decimus victory over her, not after all this time and all the heartache he had caused her.

She noticed an old bucket near the pallet that had not been there the night before.

Fresh water.

She scooped up the cool liquid and drank. The chilled water eased the pain in her throat and she sighed with relief. She thought to wash her face, she must certainly look frightful, but if this was their only drinking water she did not wish to waste it. Her face would just have to remain dirty.

“Drink your fill.”

She jumped, startled by Michael’s voice, not having heard him enter.

She nodded her thanks and again took a handful to quench her seemingly relentless thirst. Perhaps it was the awareness that it might be some time before water would again be available.

Michael sat beside her and unfolded a part of his robe that he had bunched together and used like a sack. Berries and edible roots spilled out.

She smiled and patted her stomach.

“I thought you might be hungry.”

Mary nodded and reached for some berries.

“I cannot chance a fire or we would have feasted on meat.”

She scooped up a fat root and grinned wide. This meal is fine. She detected a laugh but was not certain of it. She thought under all that darkness must lie a hint of light.

She pointed to the food and then to him.

“I must confess I ate while I gathered.”

She finished the root and all of the berries, sighed her contentment.

“Your throat,” he said, raising his gloved hand slowly, careful not to frighten her. “Does it continue to pain you?” He gently stroked the bruised area with a lone finger.

She sat very still, hiding her fear of his faint touch, but her startled, wide eyes alerted him to her discomfort.

His removed his hand slowly; they sat quietly for several minutes until he ended the awkward silence.

“We will leave tomorrow night.”

She nodded.

“You should rest. We have much land to cover.”

She wished to know their destination. She pointed to him then herself, then walked her fingers across her palm and shrugged.

“Northwest, to a small village where I have friends who will shelter us,” he answered.

Another matter that needed attention was a quick walk in the woods. She would prefer to go alone but with night having fallen, no voice to cry out for help, and unreliable legs, she knew his company was necessary.

She pointed to the door and once again she walked her fingers across her palm and pointed to herself.

He understood and helped her to stand. “Your legs will hold you?”

She shrugged and nodded simultaneously, indicating she was uncertain but without choice.

They walked a short distance into the dense woods, his firm arm around her waist. He released her gently and made certain she remained steady on her feet before bending down to snatch something off the ground. He handed her two stones.

“I will leave you to your privacy and be only a short distance away. If you should need me, throw the one stone and I will come to you. When you are finished toss one stone then the other and I will come to you.”

She acknowledged with a nod then saw to her needs. Her legs pained under her full weight. When she finished she did as he had said, she tossed the first stone then the second. He appeared before her like a phantom materializing out of the night, giving her a start.

His arm quickly circled her waist. “I startled you; I am sorry.”

She shook her head and, with hand motions she hoped made sense, attempted to let him know that in time she would adjust to his strange manner.

He spoke as they walked. “You will grow accustomed to me.”

She nodded vigorously, pleased he understood.

“I think it wise if you carry a few stones with you. They may prove helpful if we are ever separated and you need me.”

Need him.

She did not want to need him. Need brought dependency and possible harm to the person she needed. The couple who had taken her in, and cared for her like their only child, would have been in jeopardy had she not taken flight as soon as she had discovered that men who hunted her were nearby. She could not cause another harm; it was a belief she had been taught and one she intended to live by.

She took a few steps and stopped abruptly in front of the doorway. Mary stuck her chin up and, with rapid hand motions, did her best to convey her confidence in taking care of herself.

Tags: Donna Fletcher Warrior Romance
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