~~~
After they were only a few feet into the woods Dawn stumbled on purpose and the warrior released her, letting her fall.
“Here is as good a place as any,” the man said and reached for his sword.
She dug her hand into the dirt, grabbed a handful and threw it in his face as she jumped to her feet, and then she ran. She hiked up her skirt and cloak as she went so they wouldn’t impede her speed and kept running, knowing that she ran for her life. The woods were familiar to her and she had managed to skirt past the warrior, as he choked and wiped away the dirt in his eyes, and head back toward the village. She didn’t have much time before he followed, and she prayed that once she broke past the woods someone would see her and help.
Dawn’s stomach roiled when she heard heavy footfalls until she realized that they weren’t coming from behind her. Were there more warriors after her? She was about to change direction when she stopped and first caught sight of Sloan, and then other warriors came into view behind him.
She wanted to drop to the ground in relief but she didn’t dare. She ran straight for Sloan, stopping in front of him breathing heavily and pointing behind her.
“How many?”
She held up one finger.
“Get him,” Sloan ordered. He wasn’t about to leave her safety to anyone else. He intended to keep her by his side until Cree returned.
He watched as she paced back and forth fighting to slow her breathing. She pressed her hand to her side and he wondered if she had suffered a blow there.
“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
She nodded.
“Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“How did you get away?”
Dawn pretended to scoop up some dirt and throw it at Sloan.
He smiled and nodded. “Wise move.”
Dawn took a heavy breath and returned his smile. She pointed to herself and then toward the village.
“You want to go home?
She nodded vigorously, though home wasn’t exactly what she would call her new cottage. She turned as did Sloan when they heard the warriors returning and in the middle of the group was the man who had abducted her. His nose and mouth were bleeding and his hands were tied behind his back. He tried to walk but the warriors took turns shoving him and he stumbled more than walked.
Sloan wanted to roar with relief. Dawn was safe and the culprit was caught, though that wouldn’t completely appease Cree, it would help. He would still be furious that she had been taken from under their very noses.
Sloan went to help Dawn but she was already several feet ahead of him and he ran to catch up with her. The woman certainly had courage. He had expected her to collapse at his feet crying when he saw her running toward him. That she had immediately let him know what had happened had surprised him and he admired her tenacity.
Once out of the woods they headed for the village. Clouds had blotted out the sun and looked as if they were there to stay. The once beautiful day was no more and Dawn suddenly felt the weight of the day upon her. Her pace slowed and her shoulders slumped and she wished she didn’t have to take another step. And she didn’t.
Everyone had stopped suddenly, and she followed suit looking to see what had halted them in their tracks.
Cree.
He had come over the rise, his men following behind him, though not able to keep pace with him. His beast of a stallion was fast and he rode hard. And Dawn wondered over his anxious return.
No one moved; they waited as their fearless leader approached with lightning speed. Sloan stepped forward as Cree brought the large animal to a halt in front of them. The black beast pawed the ground and snorted, as if annoyed that he’d been stopped.
“We caught the culprit,” Sloan said and two warriors pushed the man forward and down on his knees, then grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back to look up at Cree.
“Take him to the stable area, secure him and post extra guards. The rest of you return to your duties,” Cree ordered and turned to Sloan. “Why is Dawn here and why does she have twigs and leaves all over her?”
Dawn had grown accustomed to people talking about her in front of her as if she wasn’t there, as if she could not hear them, as if she was incapable of participating in the conversation. This time, however, it annoyed her. Why had he not acknowledged her? Was this what she was to expect from him being his mistress? Would he only be courteous to her when they were alone and ignore her other times? And would he forever scowl at her?