Aethelwold waved away his concerns and stopped arguing with him, finding amusement in something someone else said.
“Just get on with it,” he finally shouted, waking Hild. “I am hungry!”
“I will take care of her while you serve,” young Alric offered. He was at least fifteen, so old enough to watch a four-year-old girl. Besides, if he was old enough to cook, he was old enough to babysit.
“Her name is Hild,” she told him, accepting his offer. But she wanted to make Hild a real person to him, in the hopes that he wouldn’t hurt her or let anyone else do so. “The Danes killed her father, and a bear recently killed her mother. I intend to protect her.”
She watched him hurry to Hild and sit beside her. He didn’t push his comfort or affection on her, but simply sat there.
Though she felt numb more than anything else, she thought young Alric quite adorable. He was slender, dressed in what looked to be sewn together rags and thin shoes. His wind-burned cheeks were round and red beneath eyes that shone like coffee under the bright lights of Starbucks. She nearly sighed.
Alric looked at her now through a spray of dark curls, then lifted his hand in a pouring gesture.
She snapped to attention, remembering to pour water into the pot. She took hold of a ladle and dipped it into another pot of water. The water seared hitting the stew pot. She knew enough to pour more in.
She finally got it under control and poured whatever else Alric left for her into the pot. There were chopped up leaves. She dumped them in as well. She wished she knew what upset Aethelwold’s stomach. She’d put in a double helping.
He’d hit her hard. Her head still hurt, so did her jaw. Piece of garbage. She’d like to poison him. She looked to where he’d been sitting. He was no longer there.
Before she had time to turn, he grabbed a fistful of her hair from behind and yanked her head back.
“I do not like something about the look of you,” he growled into her ear, making her cringe and want to scream. “You look down your haughty nose at us.”
“A flea would have to look down its nose to see you.”
He snaked his arm around her waist and yanked her in. He kissed her neck and cupped her breast with his hand and then squeezed.
“Stop it!” she commanded. Her terrified gaze found Hild’s just before young Alric thankfully pulled her away so she could not see.
Aethelwold chuckled at her throat. He was still behind her. “I like your saucy mouth. I’m going to tame you so that you—”
He released his hold on her! Just like that? She was free! She reached for the handle of the pot to fling at him and turned to see Wolf holding him pressed against a tree. Wolf!
Rage burned like heated metal in his eyes as they stared into Aethelwold’s.
“My brother is going to hunt you down and kill you all,” Aethelwold promised as Wolf drew his knife and without taking his eyes off the man, cut Aethelwold’s throat in one quick slash.
Camelee was so glad to see Wolf that she put the blood and violence behind her. This was how these men lived. Aethelwold knew that when he attacked Wolf’s camp. She went to him and flung her arms around his neck and held on.
He did nothing to break free. She was gl—Hild!
“Hild! We have to get her,” she clutched his cloak. “She’s with Alric. Don’t hurt him!”
He looked confused but nodded. “Find the girl!” he ordered into the air. Or so Camelee had thought but in another instant the forest around them came alive with fearsome Danes. They were the men Wolf had taken with him today. They appeared out of everywhere, swords and spears held up and ready to swing.
“Kill every one of them,” he growled and eyed the bruise on her jaw. “Find the little girl and bring the Saxon who is with her to me. Alive! They are the only two who shall live!”
Camelee’s blood ran cold. This was why Wolf was respected as chief. Because he could do the necessary thing when the situation called for it, as it did in this century.
“How is Genevra?” she asked him when he pulled her away from the fighting.
“Genevra?”
“One of them hit her and…” her voice drifted off at his lost expression. “You haven’t been back to the camp.”
“They took you from camp?” he asked her, his eyes moving over her. He lifted his fingers to her jaw but did not touch her. “How badly are you hurt?”
“Not bad.” She smiled to convince him. “How did you find me?”
