Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 104340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“Thank you, but Dawn and I will be attending the celebration at the keep and we should be getting ready for it.” Elsa walked over to Dawn and slipped Thomas out of her arms and into Lila’s arms.
Lila looked with worried eyes to her friend as she took her son.
Dawn did not want her friend to worry over her and so she smiled and gestured how excited she was to attend the celebration. Lilia appeared relieved and with a hug and a kiss to Lila and a nod to Paul, Dawn followed Elsa out the door.
“I will see you at the celebration,” Elsa said and hurried off.
Dawn could not help but think that she was being reminded that her presence was not a request. She was expected to attend, though an order had never been directly issued, it had certainly been implied. She entered her cottage only a short distance from Lila’s and immediately stoked the fire that had burned down to almost nothing but embers.
Her cottage had gotten a chill to it with the fire dying down and she rubbed her arms. She realized then how she must look. Her one sleeve was completely gone and smudges of dirt marred her naked arm. Her skirt was ripped and she realized that she did not have another one to replace it. And the one other blouse she had was worn beyond repair. And her gray shift wasn’t much better.
How could she go to the celebration tonight when she had nothing proper to wear? Besides who would bother with her? She would stand alone, ignored as usual. There would be no joy in it for her.
Dawn decided there and then not to attend. She reasoned that although it seemed she had been instructed to attend, no one had explicitly ordered her to do so. With her decision came a sense of relief. She would set something to cook, wash up, change into her night dress, a garment well past its prime, and spend the evening repairing her clothes as best she could.
She chopped what kale and wild onion she had left, added water, and set it to stew in a crock. Then she filled a bucket with water from the rain barrel outside her door and bathed herself with the chilled water. She slipped into her worn nightdress with a silent sigh, plaited her long brown hair and gathered her sewing basket. She moved the lone chair closer to the hearth and set to work on her repairing her skirt.
It wasn’t long before her eyes grew weary and she sought her pallet thinking a brief nap would be good before supper and surrendered to sleep.
She did not know how long she had been sleeping when a loud sound startled her out of
her peaceful slumber. She jumped up off her pallet, her eyes quickly turning wide when she saw Cree standing in the open doorway.
Chapter Fourteen
Cree didn’t know if he wanted to strangle her or hug her so relieved was he that Dawn was safe in her cottage. With the villagers pouring in and out of the Great Hall and his warriors remaining on guard for any disturbances, it had taken time to search though the many faces to find her. When he had finally concluded that she was not present, dread rose in him.
Had something happened to her? Had she been harmed? She would not be able to scream out for help and the thought had fired his blood. He would kill anyone who raised a hand against her.
It had been Sloan who had suggested that perhaps the woman he searched for had decided not to attend the festivities.
Cree had not even given that thought and the idea fueled his anger even more. He had ordered Sloan to find out where her cottage was located and then had taken off to find out if Sloan had been right.
His anger had mounted with each step he had taken so that by the time he reached her door he hadn’t bothered to knock, he gave it a shove sending it swinging open.
His heaving chest slowed as his anger dissipated and he shut the door behind him wanting no one to disturb them. Not that anyone would. They feared him too much to offer the silent one protection and they were wise in doing so.
She stood next to her sleeping pallet, which annoyed him even more to think that she had no decent bed to sleep on. Her eyes were wide and her body tense. She obviously was frightened and she need not be, though giving it second thought... perhaps she should be.
He took only two steps and stopped, casting a glance around the small room. It was neat and orderly, though threadbare. Her table size could serve only one and one chair sat near the hearth. A lone crock sat in the hearth and no doubt was the reason for the pleasant scent. A worn wool cloak hung on a peg near the door and the only other garments he spied were the bundle on the chair. Her pallet barely held room for her and her wool blanket had been patched in more places than he thought possible.