She closed hers and bowed her head. Nogetting out of it. Time to grit her teeth and bear it. She’d helpwho she could and if she couldn’t- well, that could be a matter fora later time.
He waited as she dismounted. For the firsttime since that first night, after her conscription into Fallon’sarmy, her legs were unsteady and unsure they wanted to hold her.She carefully laid her horse’s reins over its head before turningand trudging after Buck.
They passed several of the mud huts, Buckleading, Shea in the middle and Eamon bringing up the rear. It feltstrange not to be in front.
From the sounds coming from the huts, theTrateri were being thorough in their search and not at all gentle.There was a woman’s sharp cry and a triumphant shout. At least onehad found success in their hunt.
“Shane,” Buck said.
Shea pulled her attention away from thedirection of the shouts to find Buck standing in front of ahut.
“In here,” he said.
She nodded.
He drew the short sword from a sheath at hiswaist.
Ah, yes. Of course. Only made sense to takeprecautions. These people almost certainly regarded the Trateri andby extension, Shea, as enemies. They might act accordingly.
Shea fumbled for her own short sword. Acalloused hand stopped her before she could draw it.
“We’d prefer if you left that sheathed fornow,” Eamon told her with a wry smile.
Shea stared dumbly at him, not understanding.Then suddenly she got it.
She snorted and let go of the blade’s hilt.He had a point. She was still a new entity to the team, and thesewere her supposed people. A person might think her willingness tohelp in the field would undergo a drastic change when her fellowLowlanders’ lives were in danger.
Hell, they probably thought she was going toturn on them in a blaze of misguided fury.
She held up her hands to signal hercompliance. Eamon removed his hand and stepped back, giving her achin tilt of approval.
“So are we going to do this or just standaround outside all day,” Shea said, looking between the two ofthem. “I’m good either way.”
Eamon raised an eyebrow and looked at Buck.“The lad says he’s good.”
Buck smirked back. “Guess I’ll lead onthen.”
Shea didn’t know what she expected, but itwasn’t to see Buck turn to the door and give it a solid kick,sending it flying inwards.
“A little dramatic, but points for flair,”Shea muttered following after him.
The interior of the one room hut was dim.There were no windows to provide extra light. No doubt as adeterrent to beast attack. A window would have only providedanother avenue for entry into the small home. They probably alsolacked the skill to create openings in the walls without alsocreating severe weakness in the structure.
It was so stuffy and dark in the building.Shea didn’t know how they could bear to spend much time in it.She’d go crazy inside of a week. The walls already felt like theywere closing in on her,
“It stinks. How do they live like this?” Buckasked, covering his nose.
It did stink. The pungent smell of themorning’s meal still lingered in the air. It also smelled ofunwashed bodies, mold, and earth.
The floor was dirt and covered in deadgrass.
“No windows means no ventilation,” Sheacommented as she passed a small wooden table. “Smells gettrapped.”
Two bowls rested on it. One was half filledwith empty bean shells, the other with the unshelled beans. Thewoman was probably preparing for that night’s meal. Shea hoped shegot the chance to make it.
Buck shook his head in disgust and startedopening and shutting what few cupboards there were. Eamon lookedunder the only bed. There were no other places to search.
Shea was drawn to a baby’s crib in thecorner. What would the Trateri do with the children? Would theyface the same fate as their parents?
