Chapter 8
The Bothy
Inside, the bothy wassmall and dry: a bed frame with a straw pallet, a folded plaid, a stool, a candle and tinderbox.In the corner, a small chest held what Drunstan's men had thought to provide – a washing cloth, a drying cloth, a cake of rough soap, and, to Una's considerable relief, a folded serviceable gown of plain dark wool.Simple, and clean.
Cormac studied the space and noted everything.Whoever the patron was, they had arranged clean accommodation for their captives.He pulled the door closed behind them.For a moment the only sound was the stream through the rear wall and the distant murmur of the camp settling in.
Then, from somewhere in the trees outside, came a bird call.Two short notes, one long, a pause, then two short again.
Una watched Cormac's expression change at the sound, some of his tension releasing.He stared toward the window, then turned from the door and crouched before her.
"Are ye hurt?"he asked.
"No," she said.
He held her gaze for a moment, and his expression softened.Then, quietly, he asked, "Why did ye run from me, Fenella?Ye ken I would never harm ye."
Una hated that name, especially said so gently.She wished for one mad moment that he knew who she really was, that it was her own name he spoke and her own eyes he gazed into – not Fenella's.
"I...I ken that now," she replied."But I had to take my chances.We had only just met, and ye're well known as a fearsome raider."
He was quiet for a moment, then his expression softened.He reached across her.
She went still.
His fingers were careful, almost tentative, as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.Then, so quickly she might have imagined it, the back of his hand brushed the smudged dirt on her cheek with a featherlight pass before he caught himself and stood abruptly, stepping away.
He cleared his throat.
"Come," he said."I'll take ye to the stream.Ye can wash and see to yer needs.I'll remain close but give ye privacy."
Cormac collected the washing cloths and soap from the chest and set them in her hands without ceremony.Then, as they moved toward the door, he said quietly, "I'll not let anyone harm ye.Ye have my word."
"Thank ye.Ye have already proven as much, and I trust ye, Cormac."
He gazed at her for a moment.Then he nodded, pushed the door open, clasped her hand firmly in his, and walked her past the two guards stationed outside."The lady needs privacy to refresh herself.It has been a harrowing day."
The guards nodded but kept a wary eye on them both.
Once outside, he positioned himself where he could keep watch and ensure no one came close.
***
UNA PUSHED THROUGHthe trees until she reached the bank, then sank to her knees with a sound that was half-sob, half-sigh.
Privacy.Fresh water.
She wanted to weep with relief.
Her bladder had been screaming at her for the past fifteen minutes.
She took care of her needs quickly behind a tree, then walked to the stream and splashed cold water on her face.It was heaven.Pure, blessed heaven.
She wet the cloth, worked it into a lather, and used it to wipe away the grime and road dust from her face, neck, and hands, even lifting her tattered garments to cool the skin beneath.Then she dried herself, sat back on her heels, and let herself breathe.Just breathe.The stream ran steadily over its stones and the trees were dark and quiet around her, and for a moment that was enough.
