Fires Of Winter by Johanna Lindsey

Author:Johanna Lindsey
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

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BRENNA entered the stable and quickly closed the large door to keep out the cold. She was tightly wrapped in the heavy bearskin cape that Garrick had tossed at her one day when the last hints of summer had vanished. All of the slaves here had their own capes or jackets made of old furs stitched together and considered worthless for trading.

Brenna was certainly not happy with hers. Although the fur was clean, the skin was rough and terribly heavy. She was sure Garrick had given her the heaviest cape he could find, just for spite. But it was all she would have unless she raided the locked storehouse where clothing, provisions and Garrick's treasures were kept. This she was determined to do one day with Erin's help. For her escape, she would also need the weapons kept there.

The stable was warm, and the pungent odors of horse and dung filled her with nostalgia for home. As a Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

child, she had spent most of her time in her father's stable—whenever she was not practicing with her weapons or tagging along behind Angus.

Erin was nowhere in sight. He was probably sleeping in the back, but Brenna was not eager to wake him, not yet. She could hardly contain her excitement as she scanned the stable for Willow. When she saw the silver-flanked mare, Brenna ran to it, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Oh, Willow, my sweet Willow. I thought to never see you again!" Brenna cried.

In truth, she had begun to doubt she would ever see anything from her home again, including her aunt and stepsister. She had asked Garrick once to take her to see them, but he had refused without explanation, and she was too proud to ask again.

Brenna hugged Willow's neck tightly; the horse snorted and shook its head in return. "I am so glad to see you," Brenna said softly, "that I will even forgive you for throwing me the last time I rode you. It has been hell here, but you will make it bearable."

"Who is there?" Erin called from the back of the stable, then came forward. "Oh, 'tis you, lass. What brings you here?"

Brenna chewed her lower lip nervously. She hated to fool Erin, but she couldn't trust her secret to anyone, not even this old man she considered her friend.

"Anselm came to the house yesterday," Brenna finally said. "He talked long, but I did not understand anything he said. I came to ask you what he wanted." Brenna turned to Willow again, and the joy that entered her voice was genuine. "I found my horse, Erin! What is she doing here?"

Erin chuckled, unaware of Brenna's deception. "The filly is yours again, lass, given by Anselm himself."

"Did he say why?"

"Nay, only that I was to be sure Garrick understood that the horse was yours, not his."

Brenna could not suppress her laughter. "Do you think Garrick will be angry?"

"Of course he will, just as he has been angry about everything of late.

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