Highlander Unchained(6)

She stood in the kitchen not even realizing she had entered it.

Flanna snagged a basket from the floor, shoved it at her and pushing her out the door shouted, “You forgot the thyme.”

Once outside Dawn stood bewildered, a light rain falling on her, still unable to comprehend what had just passed. Flanna joined her only a moment later and hurried her away from the door.

“You are deathly pale. What is wrong?” Flanna asked anxiously.

Dawn shook her head not believing what she had just been told.

Flanna grabbed her hands. “Tell me.”

Dawn raised her hands and started to explain, outlining someone large and then locking her wrists together, Flanna understood instantly.

“The prisoner Cree.”

Dawn nodded and went on to tap her chest and gestured tending his wounds and feeding him and then she suddenly stopped and stared wide-eyed at Flanna. Reluctantly, and with heat rushing her cheeks red, she bent her fingers just enough for the tips to touch her palm and with one finger from the other hand shoved it repeatedly in and out of the hole.

Flanna gasped. “Good lord, no. He cannot expect you to rut with the savage.”

Suddenly there was a shout from the open door and they both turned to see Goddard, Colum’s most trusted warrior. He was broad and tall, though nowhere near the prisoner’s size and his face and arms scarred, no doubt from endless battles, though the women seemed to favor him, Dawn having seen him talking with many, though mostly with Dorrie.

“Here! Now!” he shouted and they both hurried to enter the kitchen after him.

Flanna went to speak but Goddard raised his hand and silenced her.

“The dumb one will be seeing to the care of the prisoner. She is to take what food or items she wants and answers to no one but Lord Colum. Is that understood?”

Flanna gave a quick nod.

Goddard turned to Dawn. “Be quick and see to your new duties.” He snickered and raised his voice. “Understand?”

Dawn bobbed her head, knowing that he reminded what was expected of her.

Goddard left the room and there was silence. No one moved. No one spoke. They stood and stared at her.

“To work,” Flanna ordered the others and turned to Dawn. “Take all that you need.” More quietly she whispered, “May God help you.”





Chapter Three


Dawn approached the hut with reluctant steps. It was a confined shed used to house those Colum felt needed punishing. A slit no more than three fingers wide had been placed near the top of the door. It allowed the only light to enter and the guard to have a look.

Usually only one warrior stood watch. Two now stood outside in front and two others stepped from around back, snickered when they spotted her and returned to their posts.

She gripped the one basket and the bucket of water she carried and stopped a couple of feet from the warriors.

One stepped forward, equal in height to her though heavy in weight, and if she recalled correctly his name was John and the other warrior who had not moved she believed was Angus. Spending all her time in the kitchen and not permitted to serve in the Great Hall, she had little contact with the warriors and was not familiar with them all. And she preferred it that way.

John gave a quick look in the basket, nodded, and stepped back to open the door.

It was Angus, pale of skin and bright red hair who snorted and said, “We were told you were to take your time. So you will be leaving none too soon.”

With that John gave her a shove and as she stumbled through the open door, fighting to remain standing, she heard the wooden latch lowered firmly in place.

Trapped with a savage.

Her heart beat madly in her chest and her breathing turned labored. If she could speak she knew she would scream with fear. With the hut so small she had hit the far wall, only a few steps from the door leaving her to assume that the prisoner was on the other side and barely a few feet from her.

The gray skies and light rain allowed for little light to enter through the slot and so the confined space was mostly dark with a sprinkle of shadows. A slight stench stung the nose and she knew it would grow worse for the hut was only cleaned out after someone served their time.

She heard the rustle then and moved along the wall to the door, hoping what little light was available would reach into the shadows if she looked from a different angle. There was another movement, another rustle, and fear prickled her skin.

It took a moment to make sense of what she saw and when she finally did, she shivered. To her left in the corner a huge shadow loomed. It moved slightly and she pressed herself back in the corner by the door, her only means of escape yet by no means accessible.

“I can smell your fear.”

His voice was deep and tinged with menace and her legs went limp. She struggled to keep from collapsing and tried to calm her trembling hands. But he was right, her fear was potent, her courage slim.