“What other food have you?”
He walked to the door and sat, bracing his back against it. He rested his head back and took a deep breath, as if his ordeal had suddenly tired him and he needed to reclaim his strength.
When he lifted his head and saw her staring he went rigid and snapped, “Be quick about it.”
Dawn scrambled to gather the food items. For a moment, a sheer moment, she thought she caught sight of the fatigue that had surely claimed him and yet it took a mere instant for him to regain his strength.
She had brought plenty of food recalling how Colum had told her to keep the prisoner well fed, much like an animal fattened before slaughter. She intended to leave all she had brought setting it on a cloth beside him along with a flask of ale.
She turned intending to sit by her basket and once again prayed she could soon take her leave.
“Eat with me,” he said.
She looked at him oddly. No women dared eat until the warriors finished their food. And besides she had no stomach to partake of any sustenance.
He shoved a piece of bread at her and fearing the consequences should she not obey, she took it. She did however pretend that she nibbled at it. If she even dared take a bite she would surely choke, her mouth was so dry.
Silence followed and she wondered if he waited for a response from her. She dreaded the moment he found out she had no voice. How would he feel that Colum chose a dumb one to tend him? Would he be angry and lash out at her? She was surprised it had gone this long without him questioning her lack of response, though she supposed he believed fear held her tongue.
“Colum sends me a quiet one. One who listens rather than speaks.”
She made no move to explain. Better he thinks what he wishes to think and save her from explaining.
“No doubt there is a reason he chose you in particular to tend me.”
On that point he was surely right.
“Shy, quiet, not one to gossip, but one who allows others to speak, while she listens.”
True she was shy, not able to gossip, though she doubted she would if she could, having seen the hurt and damage it could cause. Naturally, she had no choice but to listen.
“When one truly listens, one truly hears.”
That he understood that surprised her. Being immersed in silence forced her to listen, truly listen as he had said. And she heard, heard far more than others were aware of, but no one with a voice would understand that. Yet this savage did.
“Your name.”
Dread descended over her. The moment she feared was upon her.
“Stop being cowardly and tell me your name.”
A name was so easy for a person to recite, to make an introduction. She had never had that opportunity and with the discovery of her affliction people shied away or were rude.
“Have you no tongue,” Cree snapped.
Thankfully she did have that and she stuck out the tip to prove it.
“So you do have some courage.”
His grinning laugh surprised her and made him appear all the more handsome, but at the moment that did not matter to her. What did matter was that he had found her response amusing and it would be wise to take advantage of his levity and make him aware of the truth.
Dawn pressed her fingers to her throat and shook her head.
“You cannot speak?”
She nodded and waited apprehensively for his response.
“How long before you can?”
He did not understand. He assumed her ill.
She shook her head, trepidation mounting.
He looked with puzzling eyes on her and leaned forward away from the door and closer to her, his face so close to hers that his warm breath brushed her cheek. “Are you telling me that you cannot speak at all?”
She answered with one quick bob of her head.
“Not a grunt or groan?”
She shook her head and waited.
“How long have you suffered this —” he shook his head— “I am asking you questions you cannot answer.”
She was about to gesture that she could speak with him in her own way, but recalled Colum telling her that she was to report everything Cree said to her. If he knew that she could communicate then he might be averse to saying anything to her. Colum would certainly punish her if she had no information to give him. So she chose not to let Cree know.
“Colum was wise for sending me a dumb one.”
Dawn was aware that anyone without a voice was referred to as dumb, but along with it came the assumption that the person was also ignorant. Her mother had made certain she was anything but that. Though she could not speak, she could understand French, Latin and various Gaelics, her mother having taught her. And her mother had encouraged her drawing, insisting that Dawn had been given such a generous talent as a distinct way of communicating.