Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Quint watched his wife and seeing that she was sticking to one area, he began to talk with Nug while keeping an eye on her.
Shade knelt amid a tangle of wild ferns and heather, her fingers deftly plucking leaves and roots from the underbrush. She had braided her hair and wrapped the braid on her head, pinning it with combs so it wouldn’t get in her way and was glad she did, for her head hung low enough for her braid, if loose, to brush the ground. A chilly breeze kissed her slightly flushed cheeks cooling them, and she smiled. She missed the woods since leaving home. There wasn’t a day that went by when she didn’t spend time in the woods. It offered so much wisdom and peace that she couldn’t resist it.
Her smile grew when she spotted a cluster of yarrow plants, and she hurried to the white yarrow blossoms and carefully snapped the stems to place in the basket she had brought with her. They worked well on wounds and with fever. She continued harvesting the yarrow taking her deeper into the woods lolled by the lovely autumn breeze and the melody of the twittering birds. It was like she was home in the safety of her woods, but then no forest in the Highlands was truly safe from animal or man and one always had to remain alert. She was reminded of that when she heard the distinct snap of a twig.
She quickly stood and glanced around. She didn’t see anything, but she did see that she had drifted deeper into the woods than she intended, and that Quint was so engrossed in talk with Nug that he wasn’t looking her way.
She bent to grab her basket to get herself closer to the edge of the woods where she had promised her husband she would stay when she heard the snap of another twig. That could not be a coincidence, and gooseflesh sent the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. That was when she realized the forest had turned silent. No birds chatted.
She heard it then, a shout for help. She cried out to her husband, “Quint!” Then she took off running, abandoning her half-filled basket and giving no thought to her husband’s repeated warnings to think before she reacted.
Again, she didn’t think when she came upon Brother Peter being held at bay with the tip of a sword while Dru was getting tossed around by a large, laughing man only to get up and try to stop him from grabbing her and tossing her around again as if she was nothing more than an amusing plaything. Shade’s only thought was to help Dru. So, without hesitation, she ran straight at the man who dangled Dru in the air effortlessly.
“Let her go!” Shade shouted as she ran toward them.
The man laughed while Dru squirmed in a useless attempt to free herself, his hold on the back of her shirt too tight.
“Release her,” Shade demanded again, and the man laughed even harder as he continued to shake Dru like a rattle.
Shade picked up speed and when she almost reached him, he raised his meaty hand to swat her away, but she dropped her head and rammed into his substantial belly. Dru fell to the ground, his two hands going to grab his belly as he stumbled. He righted himself quickly enough and his face turned red with rage, and he looked ready to lunge at Shade.
“Strike my wife, Witley, and you’re a dead man and, Monty, drop that sword!” Quint commanded with a powerful shout as he hurried toward them all.
To Shade’s astonishment, the man her husband called Monty dropped his sword and the large man—Witley—his face drained of all color.
“I didn’t know she was your wife, Monk. I would never harm what’s yours,” Witley said, a nervous tremor in his voice.
The Monk went to Shade, his hand capturing her chin to give it a light squeeze. “Are you all right? Witley’s belly is too big to be soft from all that fat.”
“I am good,” she assured him, his comment bringing a tender smile to her face.
He lowered his head until his brow almost touched hers. “Your penchant for rushing into situations will worry me to death.”
“I will try to do better,” she said softly.
“I will hunt you down and beat you senseless, Monty, if you try to sneak away,” The Monk called out as he raised his head and released his wife’s chin.
“Aye. Aye. I’m not going anywhere I was just going to sit on that stump over there,” Monty said, his face paling.
“Then sit!” The Monk ordered and Monty hurried to obey.
“I should see to Dru,” Shade said. “I spotted blood and bruising on her face.”
“Aye, go help her,” he said and stepped aside to let his wife hurry to Dru while he turned his attention on Witley. “You say you would not knowingly harm what is mine, yet you torment, Dru, and you know I protect her. Was it you who left her bloody and bruised?”