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Given to the Savage(25)

By:Natasha Knight


How much could Silas tell them? When Commander Norrin had first come for him, it had been after seven days without electrical power, without running water. The settlements depended on the colonies for those things and so much more, even as the colonies depended on them for much of their food and other items. When Silas had seen Commander Norrin that day he had come, he had known immediately what the power outage was: a show of their dependence on the colony. Proof of the colony’s unquestionable power over their survival.

When he had left with the commander, he had told the elders that a new deal would be struck in order to obtain their resources and much-needed medicines. He hadn’t mentioned anything else the commander had told him then—he hadn’t known how and he’d not had time to process that news himself.

“She is called Rowan and is under my protection. She has been lent to us by the colony.”

Alistair’s brow furrowed. “Lent? Why?” he asked.

These men were wise and he would explain things, he just hadn’t planned on doing it tonight. He took in a deep breath. It had been a long day but his night was about to get longer.

“Let me get her settled and I will come to the hall to explain.”

Alistair and Jonah looked from Rowan to Silas, then nodded. With a hand at Rowan’s back, he urged her toward his home, the last one at the edge of the settlement. Rowan remained silent, her body still trembling.

Once at his home, he opened the door and gestured for her to enter. She did and stood just a few paces inside, waiting for him.

Silas moved around and lit several lamps, illuminating the small space. He lived alone and now, looking around, he saw how sparse his home was. “It’s not much,” he said, “this is the living space and we will sleep there.” He pointed to the farthest wall where he had stacked a large mattress he had acquired from trade on top of planks of wood he had fashioned into a bed frame. It was the only piece of furniture in his home that spoke of his taste. The headboard was intricately carved wood he had taken half a year to perfect. Upon the bed lay a thick, colorful quilt. It had been a gift from the villagers when he had gotten married—a wedding present, and more, a show of acceptance. A part of him still wondered why he didn’t put the quilt away with the rest of the things. Why he tortured himself with that constant reminder of how much his actions had cost. He exhaled and turned back to Rowan.

“This is where you will cook,” he said, realizing that with her in his house, he would have a woman to cook for him again. “I will show you the garden tomorrow in the light. Dinner will be brought to you while I’m gone.” She remained staring at him. “Don’t be afraid, nothing will happen to you. You’re under my protection and I will ensure everyone knows it. The villagers mean you no harm, they’re not violent by nature. They’re cautious, that is all.”

A knock came at the door then and Rowan jumped with a gasp.

“Come in,” Silas said. Their doors didn’t contain locks.

“Sir.” Two teenage boys stood in the door and Silas could see the shadow of several others behind them all trying to have a look at Rowan.

“Yes, Jonathan?” Silas said, stepping in front of her, wanting to shield her even from these boys.

“The wagon, sir. We’ve brought it. Would you like us to carry the bags inside?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Thank you.” With that, he moved to the door and closed it, then turned back to Rowan.

“I need to meet with the council and explain things. Tomorrow, I will introduce you to the villagers. It will just take some time for you to settle in, but you’ll be safe.”

“Can I come with you now?” she asked, obviously nervous to remain alone.

“I’m afraid not,” he said. The door opened then with a quiet knock and they both turned to find Charlie standing there. “Charlie, what are you doing here?”

“Shh,” he said, slipping inside. “I’m here to stand guard over Rowan while you meet with the elders.”

Rowan had to smile at that and at Charlie’s shy attempts to have a look at her, in particular, her strange eyes.

“Does your mother know you’re here?” Silas asked, walking toward the boy.

“She doesn’t need to know,” Charlie said, straightening.

Silas smiled and patted the boy’s back. “Good thinking. I hope not to be too long,” he said, then turned to Rowan. “You’ll be safe with Charlie outside. He won’t let anyone in. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ok,” Rowan said.

Silas and Charlie walked out and Silas headed to the hall.