Gabriel Hunt 04 Hunt Beyond the Frozen Fire by Gabriel Hunt (Christa Faust)

Author:Gabriel Hunt (Christa Faust) [Hunt, Gabriel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781428508293
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The women who entered the hut carried bowls of hot water and armfuls of fragrant flowers and leaves whose strong aroma cut through the stench of sickness in the room, making it almost bearable.

They set the bowls down on either side of the fire, then pulled stone knives from crude sheaths at their hips. One approached Gabriel, the other Millie. The first said something—something Gabriel couldn’t understand, of course, but he recognized the tone of warning in her voice. She raised the blade, brought it close to his chest. Out of a corner of his eye he saw the other woman doing the same to Millie.

“Count of three, boss?” Millie said under his breath.

“No,” Gabriel said. “They wouldn’t bring us here just to kill us.”

The woman before him grabbed a fistful of his sleeveless shirt in her other hand.

“You sure?” Millie said.

“You remember what I told Velda about being sure?”

“You say lots of things, man. Hey—!” This as the woman in front of Millie grabbed a handful of his shirt as well, and no small amount of chest hair with it.

The woman brought her knife down in a swift stroke. The taut fabric beneath her hand sliced open.

With a similar stroke, the woman in front of Gabriel cut through his shirt as well.

They went around to the other side of the two men and Gabriel felt the torn fabric of his shirt being pulled back, away from his skin. The sound of two more slashes came—and it wasn’t a shirt anymore, just strips of cloth that fell away to either side, leaving him still bound at the wrists but naked from the waist up.

The women came around again.

One of them spoke and gestured for them to stand.

“Now, look, sister, enough’s enough,” Millie said, but he stood as the sharp stone point came up under his chin, pricking not at all gently into his skin. Gabriel stood with him.

The stone knives made short work of the knee-length thermal underwear that was all they had left on other than their boots.

Without speaking another word, one of the women collected the other’s knife and went to hand them off to someone on the other side of the tiger skin, while the other woman bent and came up with a double handful of the strong-smelling leaves that had been soaking in the steaming water. She began scrubbing them roughly up and down along Millie’s torso, a look of intense application on her face.

The other woman returned, took a similar pile of leaves out of her bowl and slapped them wetly against Gabriel’s chest. This close, the smell was overwhelming. But the herb-laden concoction was effective—Gabriel felt layers of caked-on sweat and grime coming off him as she washed.

He heard a swift intake of breath from Millie. “Lady, you want to be gentle down there,” he muttered. “Ah, hell, what am I talking for? She can’t understand me.”

Gabriel stifled an exclamation himself as the woman washing him reached the same delicate spot on his body.

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