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It didn’t take her long to slip her stockings on and to wrap her hands with strips of cloth. She then wrapped her shawl around her head so that it would cover her nose and mouth and slipped on her wool cloak and placed her fur-lined cloak over that. She took a wool blanket and wrapped it around her. She was not only set to tackle the storm but to keep Mary warm once she found her.

She hoped that she was right as to where Old Mary had gone. If Dawn was lucky she would find her there and they could both wait out the storm at the old woman’s cottage. If not then she hoped she would at least find Old Mary somewhere along the way. Whatever the case, she intended to find her friend and see her safe.

As soon as she stepped into the harsh swirling snow she knew her task would be far more difficult than she had imagined but that only spurred her on. Time was of the essence if she was to find Old Mary and so with her head down and her determination strong, she pressed forward battling the raging snow and howling wind.

~~~

Cree was not comfortable with the decision to suspend the search for Old Mary but he had little choice. Visibility was so poor that his men could go in circles for hours and not realize it. Whatever possessed the old woman to go off on her own when the weather had obviously bore signs of a snowstorm puzzled him. Her careless decision could not have come at a worse time.

With the arrival of the McClusky troop he was needed at the keep and so were several of his warriors. The McCluskys were known as fierce fighters, had strong opinions, and known to brawl for little reason or perhaps that had to do with their steadfast opinions. They were also honorable warriors and true to those they called friend and being their land bordered Cree’s he intended for them to be friends.

He had heard tales of Kirk McClusky’s son, Torr and his fighting abilities. Gossip had it that ten men could not take him down and his prowess with a sword was legendary. So Cree could not help but wonder who had scarred the mighty warrior and if the culprit still lived. It would be rude to ask him and being the man was not one to speak about his exploits and silenced others—who dared to try—with a threatening look, Cree would not know the tale.

The scarred warrior sat at the dais with them, though was not at all present. He did little but grunt when a question was directed at him until finally no one bothered him and he was left alone, talk and laughter going on around him as if he did not exist.

Cree politely excused himself for a moment when Elwin entered the Great Hall and went to speak with the man.

“My lord,” Elwin said with a brief nod. “The snowstorm has turned brutal and we had no luck in finding Old Mary. Sloan is seeing to a warrior who was injured in a fall during the search. He will be here shortly. I told Dawn she was to remain in her cottage with the door latched and to answer it to no one but me, Sloan, or you. She conceded without protest and latched the door behind me.”

“You are to check on her from time to time until I join her later,” Cree ordered. “Now go and get yourself warm and eat.”

With a bob of his head, Elwin went off to join some of his fellow warriors at a table closest to the hearth while Cree returned to the dais. He would have preferred to go and see for himself that Dawn was safe but he could not spare the time at the moment.

Cree no sooner got involved in an interesting conversation with Kirk McClusky regarding their adjoining land when he saw Lucerne’s servant Bree meekly approach the dais.

She was a petite lass with bright curly red hair and a pretty face. More often than not she appeared skittish like an animal that had been whipped too many times and Cree was fairly certain that Lucerne took a heavy hand to the lass. It was an issue he would have to address soon.

She stood silent before the dais waiting for him to acknowledge her but Sloan caught Cree’s attention as he entered the room and hurried to the table.

“The storm rages like an angry woman,” Sloan said and everyone at the table, except Torr, laughed. He was about to make another remark when he caught sight of the servant, her head bent, waiting. “I interrupted the lovely lass. Please forgive my rudeness.”

Bree’s cheeks turned red and she shook her head. “Forgive the intrusion, but Lady Lucerne has requested the healer.”


Tags: Donna Fletcher Highlander Trilogy Romance