Audrey shifted from her nearby perch, and Brielle lookedover at her. The woman’s eyes spoke very clearly the reprimand that would soon leave her lips if Brielle didn’t allow this man to rest. She glared at her friend, then used their native French tongue so their prisoner didn’t understand. “I must seek out his purpose for invading our village.”
Audrey rolled her eyes, then responded in the same language. “You said he wandered too near the entrance of the circle. He’s likely a hapless stranger who knew nothing of us before you pierced him with your arrow. Let the man rest and recover, then we’ll send him on his way.”
A surge of anger washed through Brielle. She’d be drawn and quartered before she released an Englishman, not until they knew full well he meant the village no harm. The last time they’d trusted such, her mother and five others had paid the price with their lives. Never again.
The man had been following the exchange with his eyes, as though trying to pick out words he knew. Maybe he understood French. Perhaps she and Audrey should switch to Italian. All of the villagers were trained in the three languages from their infancy, but mayhap this man also spoke all three tongues. Best not to discuss such things in front of him at all.
She rose and stalked to her position against the far wall. Then she turned to face Audrey and Philip. “You may both go. I’ll take the first watch.”
Philip straightened and turned to the door, then they both filed out. Over her shoulder, Audrey threw her a final warning look. “I’ll keep my door cracked in case you whistle.” Bywhistle, her friend meant the bird call they used when either one of them needed the other. A low twitter traveled perfectly down the stone corridor that linked each family’s apartment.
As the door closed behind her friends, Brielle’s heart begged to follow them. She much preferred to be out roaming the mountains instead of caged in these caves. If only she could have finished the hunting excursion she’d begun when she spotted this man. Yet her work was here just now. AsLe Commandant, leader of the guards and hunters for the village of Laurent, her people depended upon her diligence.
This stranger would not go free until they uncovered his secrets.
Evan jolted from the murky depths of sleep and blinked to focus his eyes in the dim room. Had he been snoring? Hopefully not. Sophia had never liked his snoring and always prodded him awake. That too-familiar wave of remorse settled in his chest. If only snoring had been the worst of his errors where she had been concerned.
A rustle sounded across the room, and he looked over to see Brielle sitting propped against the wall. Watching him. Had she seen a man sleep before? Surely a warrior such as her would have spent time around men. In fact ... might she be married?
The thought planted a sour taste in his gut. Or perhaps that was the pain still lingering from her arrow wound. Maybe the man with the hatchet earlier had been her husband.
He swallowed the cobwebs in his mouth so he could ask, but a knock at the door sounded first.
“Enter.” Brielle stood as the door opened, and a familiar sweet smile poked in.
“I have stew for our guest, and for you.” Audrey spoke to Brielle but smiled at Evan, as though apologizing for whatever he’d had to suffer in her absence.
Brielle took the tray from her as Audrey entered and closed the door, then came to kneel beside him. “How are you feeling? Did my friend allow you rest?” Her smile reminded him of a peaceful, sunny day, lying on his back beside a creek and guessing shapes from the clouds. If he’d had a sister, he’d want her to have a pleasant smile like Audrey’s.
“She did.” He cleared his throat to smooth away the gravel, then worked to sit up so he could eat. He could stand a bite or two.
“Don’t move.” The smile cleared from her expression. “You’ll reopen your wound.”
He froze, but only because she looked so stricken. He eased back down. “It’ll be hard to eat like this.” And though the wound ached, it didn’t feel like his insides would burst. The arrow must not have gone deep enough to damage anything important.
“I’ll feed you.” Audrey scooped a spoonful from the bowl.
All brotherly affection fled his mind at the thought, and he glared at her. “I’ll feed myself.” Letting her handle the task would make him appear weak, a status he couldn’t stand for since they were holding him prisoner.
The woman glanced at Brielle, as though summoning support for her cause.
The lady warrior turned those piercing eyes on him. “I care not whether you live or die, but you will not cause trouble for my friend, nor any of our people. If she wishes to feed you, you will consent.”
She looked so fierce in that moment, like a mother beardefending her cubs, he couldn’t help but soften his response. “As you wish.” Maybe staying on her good side would benefit him most in his escape.
He settled in, then Audrey raised a scoop of stew to his lips.Lord, don’t let it be poison. He was at their mercy, which was not a position he preferred. Perhaps they would at least untie his hands. He’d ask after the meal.
A second trencher of stew rested on the tray, yet Brielle didn’t eat while he did. Just knelt nearby, watching his every move.
He turned his attention to Audrey as he swallowed a bite. She might be more open to casual conversation. “Your friend said this is a village, and I thought I heard children before I succumbed to her sleeping potion.” He allowed his mouth to tip into a smile, although he was still a tad bitter about that trick. “Are there many people in this area?” He opened his mouth to accept the next bite she ladled in.
“Our numbers have grown through the years, but we are a small group. Each member is like family.” Her eyes shone.
“How long have you lived here?” He still couldn’t quite fathom that an entire community resided in the heart of these icy mountains, so far from civilization. And he was getting the feeling they were quite content keeping to themselves.
“For many generations.”
“No more questions.” Brielle’s sharp tone broke through the relaxed conversation, drawing both their gazes. She had her mouth pursed, and her eyes sparked enough to light a campfire. Yet something about the look made her seem vulnerable, like she was barely more than a girl. Which might, in fact, be close to the truth. She couldn’t be more than two or three and twenty.
