Battle Eagle: A Dark Ages Scottish Romance (The Warrior Brothers of Skye Book 3) by Jayne Castel

Author:Jayne Castel [Castel, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Winter Mist Press
Published: 2018-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Donnel returned to the hut in the early evening. Night fell late this time of year, so dusk was still a way off. He was in a dark mood. Unlike the day before, this hunting trip had yielded little—just two scrawny water fowl. None of his other arrows had found their mark.

He strode down the hill toward the small dwelling, his expression darkening further when he spied the smoking embers in the fire pit outside. Eithni had let the fire go out.

Dumping his bow, quiver of arrows, and catch upon a rock near the fire, Donnel glanced around. “Eithni?”

No feminine lilt answered him, and Donnel realized he had already started to get used to having a woman’s company again.

Where is she?

Donnel’s mouth thinned. He had told her not to stray far from the hut. Surely she had not wandered off and gotten herself lost?

“Eithni,” he called once more, but his voice merely echoed back at him.

Donnel took a deep draft from his water skin. He was bone-weary and had been looking forward to stretching out next to the fire. However, he would not be able to rest, not knowing where Eithni was. If the fire had gone out it meant she had been away for a while.

He found her tracks just west of the hut, in the soft earth beside the banks of the creek, and followed them. It was a glorious evening; the sun still had warmth in it. Sunlight gilded the forest, releasing the scents of pine and moss.

Donnel followed the waterway, his concern deepening when he caught no sign of Eithni. There were still footprints on the banks, and so he pressed on.

Some time later, the land fell away steeply, and he stood at the top of a small waterfall with a pool beneath.

There at the bottom, lying on her side upon a velvet-green bank, was a slender female with long brown hair.

Panic flared in Donnel at the sight of her lying so still. “Eithni!”

The sound of his voice roused her, and when he saw her move his fear subsided.

Donnel climbed down the steep bank to where Eithni was pushing herself up into a sitting position. Her face was pale and pinched with pain.

“What happened?” he greeted her.

“I was collecting reeds,” she replied with a wince. For the first time Donnel noticed the reeds that lay around her. “I was climbing up the bank afterward when I fell.” She looked embarrassed then. “I saw a boar and took fright.”

Donnel tensed. Boar were dangerous creatures. She had been lucky it had not charged her. His gaze slid down over her body, checking for signs of injury. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my right ankle. It twisted under me as I fell. I tried walking, but it hurt too much.”

Donnel huffed out a breath. “You weren’t supposed to stray far from the hut.”

She gave him a penitent look. “I know, but I wanted to make a basket—I needed reeds.”

“You could have broken your neck.” He knew his voice was harsh, but he was tired and this was the last thing he needed.

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