Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set by Kathryn Loch

Author:Kathryn Loch [Loch, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Medieval Scottish Romance
Publisher: Dragonbourne Publishing
Published: 2014-11-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

As long as Kenna didn’t move too much, the knights-errant seemed content to ignore her. Only the leader, Hurstal, would cast an occasional glance in her direction, and what she saw in his gaze chilled her heart.

She was deep enough in the cave that she couldn’t see the opening, nor could she see if it was night or day outside. Only a few guttering torches shoved into crevices in the walls cast any light, and it was difficult to judge the passage of time.

The storm that passed through a bit ago was a different matter entirely. At its peak, lightning seemed to consistently brighten the cave, and even sheltered underground, Kenna had felt the thunder shaking the earth. It grew in such intensity that the bandits brought their horses into the cave, keeping them near the opening but far enough in that the thunder and lightning wouldn’t spook them. The storm raged around them, but the cave protected them reasonably well. A few times a terrible blast of cold air swept through, extinguishing torches, and once, even the fire the knights-errant sat around.

But the chill growing in strength in the pit of her belly had not been caused by the storm. Kenna noticed Hurstal glancing at her more and more often, and she feared her time was running short. She huddled under her blanket, but it was poor defense against the cold. She kept her eyes open, watching and praying for an opportunity to escape. None presented itself, and despite her terror of what Hurstal would do to her, she had to admit she was more terrified of trying to escape, for if they caught her, no amount of coin would save her from her fate.

“Bloody hell!” one man barked as he returned from the mouth of the cave. He stomped his feet and slapped his arms, trying to warm himself, his breath pluming in the air. “The sun is out, but it is still freezing out there.”

“Snow?” another man asked.

“It doesn’t cover the ground completely, but there are patches. It’s mostly ice from the freezing rain. It hangs from the trees and the rocks despite the bright sun.”

“Probably the last hard freeze before spring,” Hurstal muttered. “But if the day is clear, it is time to collect our money. The wench’s father and betrothed have had plenty of time to gather it.” He paused and speared two men in his gaze. “Longspee and Merke, fetch your horses and ride to the village. See if you spot a messenger with either man’s heraldry.”

“And if we do not?” one man asked as he rose.

“Give them a few hours, but so help me, if either of you get drunk, I’ll remove your heads and piss down your necks.”

“Aye,” the two men chorused and hurried to their horses.

Time seemed to drag itself like a half-dead carcass. Kenna kept seeking greater warmth from the blanket but could not find it. Her shaking grew worse, and she jumped at every little noise. While she still did not know the hour, her terror levered upward as Hurstal rose and began to pace.

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