Dorian surveyed the men around him and me being restrained by Baron. “I think I’ll take my chances, lassie. You may be a witch, but there are plenty of us and only one of you. I think I like those odds.” He took another step toward me, and a truly evil look overtook his features.
Baron pulled me back more and stepped in front of me. “All right now, that’s enough!” he thundered, sounded commanding and authoritative.
“Ah, come off it, Baron. We just want to have a little fun,” one man wheedled.
“You’ve had your fun,” Baron said firmly. “I’m in charge of this prisoner, and I won’t allow any harm to come to her. I haveenough to do playing nanny and don’t want to be a nursemaid, as well.”
“I won’t harm her,” Dorian said slyly. “Much.” The men continued to move closer, trying to edge around Baron to get nearer to me.
“Are you men or swine?” Baron bellowed. “Clear out before I run you out!” He took a threatening step toward the group and swung one of his huge hands, narrowly avoiding striking their faces.
The other men seemed cowed as Baron towered over them. They began to scuttle off, but Dorian stayed put. He glared at me. “Best watch your back, little lassie. I wouldn’t close my eyes tonight, if I were you.” He finally turned and stomped off.
Baron watched them go, arms folded. “You should’ve let him try,” I said. My hands shook, and I was still full of adrenaline, ready to confront Dorian had he not slunk away like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Baron shook his head at me. “You’re impossible.”
I felt indebted to him. Without Baron, that scene would have turned out very differently. “Thank you.” Had they been conveyed with my usual snark, it would have sounded like a sarcastic response to his remark. But I was serious, for once.
Baron sat back down, calm once more. “No problem.”
I watched the men in camp get ready for the night. At dusk, a limping figure caught my eye. There was Dorian, shuffling back toward our campsite, his arms laden with a jumble of fabric and poles. He paused a short distance away and began setting up the tent.
“What are you doing, Dorian?” Baron called out loudly.
“Just setting up my spot. You two have such a cozy little campsite, I decided to join you. And besides, Baron, the sheriff said you might need an extra guard or two at night to help youwith the girl. I’m more than happy to volunteer my services.” Dorian stared at me and smiled nastily.
He had been right, there was no way I would ever close my eyes that night. For the first time, I was glad that Baron was my guard. If I had to be held prisoner by someone, he was now the obvious choice of who I would pick. I didn’t like him much, but he seemed just as eager as I was to keep our distance from each other, and that arrangement suited me fine. Now that Dorian was so close to me, I felt the inexplicable urge to draw nearer to Baron for protection. It was ridiculous to think so. I had overpowered Dorian twice before—I could probably do so again. Though I didn’t want Dorian to think I felt threatened, the longer he stared at me, the harder it was to resist the urge to shrink at least a little.
On the pretext of adjusting my position on the log, I managed to inch marginally closer to Baron. I thought I had done a good job of being unobtrusive, but Baron half-glanced at me, then stood to retrieve his water skin. When he returned to our makeshift bench a few seconds later, he seated himself directly at my side. We were so close that our legs and arms touched.
“I appreciate the offer, Dorian, but I have it handled. It seems like it’s only on my watch that she doesn’t escape. I wouldn’t want you to haveanotherscar.” Baron sounded casual, but I caught the warning in his voice.
Dorian curled his lip into a snarl. The rope burns across his throat seemed to stand out, and he rubbed his leg where my knife had sunk in. “I won’t let her go again.”
“Nor will I.”
They glared at each other until Dorian dropped his gaze. All the rest of the darkening evening, Dorian sat on the opposite side of our fire and stared at me. It made me physically nauseated to have him so close.
After what seemed like the longest evening of my life, everyone seemed to be bedding down for the night. Dorian vanished into his tent. Baron waited a long time after watching Dorian enter his tent before he seemed willing to leave the fire.
We stood up and Baron ducked into the tent first. During the single unattended second I had before the chain went taut, I checked to make sure the coast was clear, then used the toe of my boot to swiftly kick a burning stick from our fire towards Dorian’s tent. It landed right on target, at the base of his fabric tent, and continued to burn.Sleep tight, Dorian!I thought.
I feigned exhaustion and lay down. Through the tent flap, I could just make out a dim glowing light growing larger and larger. Then came the clamoring cries of, “Fire! FIRE!”
Baron got up. “Whatnow?” he growled, obviously exasperated.
We poked our heads out. Men ran to and fro. Several carried buckets of water and were trying to douse Dorian’s tent, which was ablaze. Dorian was standing to the side, pulling at his pointed beard and wringing his hands in distress.
The sheriff was there as well, demanding to know what had happened. We were close enough that I could hear what they were saying.
“The tent, it just caught fire!” Dorian said.
“Did you pitch it too close to the fire pit? Bilius did that a week ago,” asked the sheriff.
Dorian glared at the sheriff, offended by the question. “I know better than that, Sheriff! It was as if someone set—” He stopped short and swiveled to fix his attention on me peering out of the tent. “It was HER! That witch tried to burn me alive!” he screamed dramatically.
Both Dorian and the sheriff crossed to us in a few strides and Baron and I emerged fully from the tent.
