“You…ehm…know the chief? The little girl’s mother was taken away by one of the men and the child needs her.”
“What?” Camelee sat up again. She wasn’t the child’s mother? “Someone took her?”
“Correct,” said the woman. “You know the chief. Please, help her.”
Camelee left her pallet. “Bring her.”
They followed her by the light of campfire until they came to Wolf’s side of the camp. He had his own fire close to his pallet. He was awake and staring into the flames when they stepped into the light.
He stood up when he saw them. “What is it?”
He appeared concerned and she was grateful once again to be in his care.
“Sir, the mother of this child has been taken by one of your men,” Camelee informed him, then waited for him to rise up and find the—
“How do you know she did not go of her own accord? I heard no screaming.”
No, she wouldn’t claw his beautiful eyes out in front of a little kid. “This woman says the child’s mother would never have left her.”
“Is that so?” he asked with a scowl as he turned to the woman. “And who are you?”
“Genevra, my lord.”
Camelee turned to her and saw her for the first time in the firelight. Her hair was blonde, a shade lighter than Camelee’s and piled atop her head with a few strands hanging down the sides of her beautiful face. Her eyes were silvery-blue and her skin, golden tan and beginning to show signs of her age. Early forties. Something about her looked too well-bred to be wearing tattered skirts.
“Where is your husband?”
“I have never taken a husband, my lord.”
He quirked his mouth at her and turned to the little girl holding Genevra’s hand. “And what are you called, Child?”
“Hild.”
“Hild, did you see the man with your mother?” When she nodded, he asked her to describe him. But the little girl was young, about four and didn’t know what he was asking.
“Hild,” Camelee bent to her. “Did he have hair like mine or like the chief’s?”
“Like you,” Hild told her, wiping her eyes.
That describes almost all the men here, Camelee thought miserably. She narrowed it down until they both realized she was describing Fin. Wolf bolted across the campfire. He reached an empty pallet and then stormed for his horse.
But as he was beginning to mount, Fin sauntered back into the camp.
Wolf went directly to him. “Where is the woman you took to your bed tonight?”
“I took no woman to my bed,” Fin told him, sounding insulted. “She refused and I obeyed your order not to force myself on her.”
“Well, then where is she?” Camelee demanded, stepping forward.
For an instant, Fin looked so angry that Camelee thought he would strike her. She was about to take a step back, but Wolf moved in front of her, blocking Fin’s view of her. “Let us go find the child’s mother,” he told his brother and waited for him to go get his horse.
“I will return as soon as I find her,” he told Camelee and Hild.
He shook his head, scowling at Camelee and muttered under his breath something about why was he doing things to please her. It made her heart sing when she thought about him doing things to make her happy. It made her want to smile at him, and even blush.
He was a big brute, who looked at killing as if it were a sport. His ideas were ancient and misogynistic. How could she entertain any kind of pleasant thoughts about him?
As soon as he was gone, and the reality that seemed to be happening to her returned, her thoughts switched to Fin. Fin didn’t seem like the kind of guy who respected a woman’s “no”. He was lying. If he’d been with Hild’s mother, he’d had sex with her, whether she wanted to or not. Maybe he’d hurt her after that, to keep from Wolf finding out what he’d done.
