Chapter 3 #2
Her eyes widened when she saw the size of the pouch in his hands.
The heavy metal within clinked as the coins jostled together.
This man is no monk! Charlotte thought in fear.
What would he do to her if he found her lying beneath the bushes, listening to their private conversation?
More than that, he was already looking for people.
What did he do with these people when he happened to find them?
Her mind raced with all the thoughts of danger and possible scenarios if he were to find where she was.
The hooded figure weighed the pouch in his hands.
"Ye can count the coins if ye like, but have I ever short-changed ye?
" The monk seemed equally annoyed by the man's reluctance to trust him.
A fact that seemed ironic to Charlotte at present.
Here he was in the middle of the forest, hiring a man to do his dirty work, yet he was annoyed at not gaining any trust. The nerve of some men…
Placing the pouch in his pocket, the hooded figure shook his head. "You yourself said that you can never trust anyone."
"Fair point," the monk conceded. "Will ye carry on with the search and report back in one month's time?"
He hesitated for a second before replying. "How is it that a monk can afford to dole out so much money?"
That's exactly what I want to know. Charlotte thought from beneath the bushes as she scathed her knee. The man was clearly a person with corrupt morals. She wouldn't put it past him to steal from a religious order.
"I am not comfortable stealing money from a monastery," he said accusingly. "I would prefer to take my services elsewhere if this money is being acquired with dishonest means. A man must draw the line somewhere in life."
"Dinnae worry about that, the money is me own. And there is plenty more where that came from. What kind of man do ye think I am, stealing from the monastery… Besides, naebody will be able to trace it back to ye in any case."
A plan suddenly began to form in her head as she listened to the men speak.
Like the hooded figure, Charlotte didn't agree with taking from any kind of religious order or stealing from innocent people in general.
But this man was obviously no monk. God will forgive me for anything I need to do to survive.
Especially since the man in question was clearly up to no good.
His companion hesitated for a second before nodding. "Very well, I'll continue the search and report back to you again, but I have to ask at this point. Why is it so important to you that this girl be found? Did she break your heart or something?"
"Or something…" The monk clenched his jaw as his dark eyes grew even darker.
"In one month then," he agreed with a nod, not asking any more questions.
"Let's meet by the lake then. I dinnae want tae risk meeting in the same place all the time."
"As you wish. Godspeed, my friend," the hooded figure greeted before disappearing into the darkness.
Charlotte could feel her blood pulsing in her veins as she reached down her itching thigh and grasped at the blade she had strapped to it.
Her heart pounded. She had a plan. The monk was taking a moment to watch his companion leave, allowing her the luxury to push herself up to her feet. She needed to act swiftly.
He was at least a head taller than her when she stood, and his shoulders were broad and thick.
Even through his robes, she could see that he was a well-built man.
Crouching low, she snuck up behind him through the nettles, ignoring the intense itching that burned her skin like a plague.
She paused suddenly and held her breath when he lifted his arms and placed his hands on his hips.
She waited a few seconds before she was sure he was deep in thought. Creeping up from behind, she suddenly jumped and placed her arms around his neck, dragging him down with the blade against his throat. "Don't move," she hissed in his ear.
The monk stiffened briefly, but then he seemed to relax when he heard her voice, perhaps thinking it couldn't be that bad because she was a woman.
"Good," she hissed again. "It's better for you if you don't resist," she tried to sound as dangerous as she could, standing on the tips of her toes to reach his neck.
"I'm just a monk," he said calmly. "How can ye rob a monk? I dinnae have anything tae offer."
Charlotte tightened her grip. "I saw how deep your pockets are, you're no monk," she accused him.
He lifted his hands in surrender but still didn't seem as though he was overly concerned about being robbed.
A fact that annoyed Charlotte as she held the blade to his throat.
The itching began to grow again as she rubbed her legs on the back of his knees, using the firm muscles of his calves as an itching board.
"What are ye doing?" he asked in confusion.
"Never mind," she growled, pulling him down slightly.
"All right, all right," he tried to calm her down. "I dinnae have any money for ye lass," he said with his hands in the air.
"I saw you give that man the bag of coins!
Someone that pays that kind of money to have people found obviously has more where that came from!
" Charlotte gritted her teeth, trying her best to ignore the stinging patches on her skin.
Tiny red welts were begging to appear in droves atop her hands and arms.
"Ye can search me pockets if ye like, but I can assure ye that ye will find naething there," he shook his head.
He seemed surprised when Charlotte suddenly spun him around and began to rifle through the pockets in his robes, holding the blade to his face with her free hand.
"There's naething there, lass!" he laughed at her when she stuck her hand inside his robe, tickling his ribs with the tips of her fingers.
Her anger grew at the way he laughed at her, and she tried her best to shake off the feeling of his rock-hard muscles beneath his robes.
The man was toned. She'd give him that. "Don't you dare laugh at me!
" she yelled, suddenly shoved him back against the tree.
"I will cut your throat!" Charlotte tried to sound as fierce as she could as she held the blade to his throat again.
She felt terrible, however. Trying to rob a person, good or bad, was not something she wished to do.
But what choice do I have to survive?
His eyes were dark and intense as he stared into hers with a thinly veiled look of amusement on his face.
"Don't try anything funny…" she warned as a breeze picked up and blew the short strands of her hair through her eyes.