Spark (Clan of Dragons Book 1) by Badger Nancy Lee

Author:Badger, Nancy Lee [Badger, Nancy Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nancy Lee Badger
Published: 2016-08-04T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Orin glanced at both sides of the trail, worried that Vika and Evan were nearby, and in need of help. He came across sets of tracks, but the groans coming from the nearly incoherent Maeve pushed him to guide Old Gray toward town. “A healer be what you need, lass.”

When she didn’t answer, he used the whip and snapped the air. After seeing the wounds on Spark’s thigh, he could not bring himself to touch Old Gray’s rump. The snap of the whip did the job, and the pony trotted as fast as it could, considering the weight of the filled cart.

Heading home was not an option. Without Vika, it was unseemly to take a young unwed lass to their cottage. Besides, she was hurt, and the only healer he knew of was the wife of the tavern owner. Mistress MacFingan would know what to do.

Would the elders accept the cart filled with meat without Vika’s presence? The more he thought about her sudden disappearance, the more he feared Toal, or one of his men, had grabbed her. Toal had a competitive streak, and if he was bent on cheating in order to win, what would he do when he learned that the man he’d sent to steal their meat was probably dead?

Orin worried that if Toal had grabbed Vika, he hoped he did not try to bed her against her will. He surmised she would never go willingly. She had shared her thoughts about the man on several occasions. His sister wanted to wed, eventually, which was another reason why he wanted to leave, and find his fortune. If she no longer felt obligated to care for him, she would find a way to create her own family, and find happiness.

“Not with Toal.”

“Toal? Who be…”

Glancing over at Maeve in the dark, he sensed that her eyes were still closed. Beneath the heavy mantle of leaves, it was too dark to see much of anything, but Old Gray knew the way to the village. He felt her raise her head, then lean it against his shoulder. A cold breeze ruffled her hair, draping it around his neck like a silk scarf. She shivered, and he hoped they were close to town. When he spied lit torches near the fence that surrounded Vika’s village, he relaxed and headed for the gate.

“We be almost there, Maeve. Stay strong.”

When she whimpered, he grabbed both reins in one hand, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She was cold, and he felt the blood from her wound seeping into his side. He prayed they were not too late.

“Hold! Who goes there!”

Orin pulled Old Gray to a stop. A warrior, dressed in a leather jerkin over his wool plaide, raised a sword in one hand and a torch in the other, blocking their path.

“I be Orin MacKinnon, with a lass in need of the healer. Make haste, man!”

The warrior glanced from him to the slumped woman beneath his arm. The torch’s bright flame and intense heat made her cry out.

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