Protected by the Warrior. Barbara Phinney
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work out their plan. They’d done it before, having slipped away from unwanted people. She’d already hidden a bundle of things she would need in the forest behind the village.
She peered over her shoulder. Kenneth had returned to the nearby bench to collect his things in sober silence.
Clara stood to toss more weeds into the coop and abruptly felt Kenneth’s gaze upon her, heavy as a winter cloak. Like Brindi, she wanted badly to check on Rowena. For the woman to have come by last night, it must have been urgent. Mayhap the babe was sick?
But with Kenneth here, waiting for her to reveal the location, there would be no open trips to Rowena.
Brindi stood also. Now? she mouthed.
Nodding, Clara walked past Kenneth to retrieve the rake she’d left at the front of the hut. He watched her walk by. She grabbed the handle and turned to capture his stare with a mild one of her own, something suggesting complete innocence, she hoped.
She then shot her gaze from him to where Brindi had been standing. Immediately, Kenneth spun, catching a glimpse of the child as she slipped into the woods behind the hut.
In the next heartbeat, he raced after her.
* * *
Kenneth plunged into the thick undergrowth, his eyes capturing Brindi’s darting movement as she tore through the forest. Her cyrtel had just enough color to stand out in the light green foliage. She wasn’t going to be hard to follow.
Ahead, she let out a cry as she lost her footing and plunged forward. He raced toward her, crashing through the trees.
“Brindi!” he cried, stopping at the last minute to prevent himself from toppling on top of her as she lay in a shallow hollow. She lifted her head. Her eyes were as wide as they had been last night, her gaze cautious as she scanned their surroundings.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
In a tiny voice, she answered, “I cannot tell. I’m too scared to move.”
He scanned her frame, seeing her cyrtel was merely mussed. Her feet wiggled as she tried to sit up, and he could see she was quite unharmed. Children being children, they often imagined ailments for attention.
Still, he checked her for broken bones. “You’ll be fine,” he said soothingly. “Just a tumble. See, the hollow here has only leaves, and they cushioned your fall.”
She nodded and sniffed.
But, he noted, there were no tears, just that cautious look again.
“Why did you race off? Were you going to Rowena?” He tried to keep his voice even and smooth, but wasn’t completely successful.
She sniffed again. “Nay. I just wanted to play in the woods.”
And as with all children, small lies came far too easily to their lips. He bristled, hating that he’d seen through it so quickly. “’Tis a sin to lie, girl. You know there is too little time to play, and just moments ago, you were quite content to pull weeds with your sister. Why did you run away? The truth this time!”
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