Chapter 5 #2
The girl wearing a red coat emerged from the lush growth of a bush and stood staring at Horland.
“Greetings.” He bowed. “I am Sir Horland, and who might you be?”
The girl curtsied and gazed at Horland’s boots.
The woman’s eyes brightened as she smiled at the child then frowned at Horland. “I don’t think she can talk. She hasn’t said a word since we met, and that was two, maybe three days ago now.”
Horland pierced Bree with his gaze. She would have heard him introduce himself to the girl, she would have heard him say he was a knight, yet she didn’t show him the respect he was due. Why didn’t she curtsy and tell him her name?
“What?” She wiped her cheeks. “Have I got something on my face?”
“I am Sir Horland.”
“Yeah, I heard you. I’m Briana but my friends call me Bree. If you expect me to call you Sir Horland all the time, that’s not going to happen. You happy with that, huh, Horland?”
Horland stiffened. She spoke like no other and her eyes twinkled as she spoke, as if she were laughing at him.
She slapped him on his arm. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a stuffed shirt, okay?”
He tightened his lips then grated, “I am a knight of the kingdom of Pradwick. You should show your respect.”
“And we’re out in the middle of nowhere so I don’t think we need to adhere to the formalities of your kingdom. Although, I’m not completely stupid, I will act like I’m supposed to when we get to Frother, okay?”
“You should at least thank me for saving you.”
She screwed up her nose. “You didn’t save me, I saved myself.” She glanced at the child. “And her.”
Horland’s jaw tightened. “If I hadn’t come upon you and the brigands who captured you, you would never have gotten free.”
“I would have too. I had a plan.”
“That toothpick? And once you opened the cage, I expect you think they would have just let you walk off into the night.”
She clicked her tongue. “I’m not dumb. I would have waited until they were asleep.”
“And they were not that stupid, they would have taken turns to guard the campsite.”
“Oh baloney. They were that stupid, believe me.”
Something about her had Horland’s senses on alert.
She seemed familiar yet wholly unknown. He noted her eyes weren’t entirely green—specks of amber glinted within them.
Despite his annoyance at her disrespect, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Her face was speckled with freckles and he guessed she had spent much time out of doors, mayhap a farmgirl—no, her clothes suggested something higher born. He looked harder at her apparel.
Her fine cloak and dress appeared to be not long out of the seamstress’s hands, and both were tailored perfectly to her body.
He hadn’t seen a more beautiful woman, not since the day he met Patricia.
Now that the woman his friend had married came to mind, Horland was convinced the woman before him could be some relation but no, Patricia had told Horland her twin sister, Dianne, was her only family.
He shook his head. It was just a coincidence.
He studied her. Except for the color of her hair, Patricia, Dianne, and the woman before him could have been triplets.
“Do you have any food?”
Horland narrowed his eyes. She was far too forthright for his taste.
“Not for me, for the little girl. She’ll need her strength to keep up with us.”
He knelt and put his bag on the ground. He shoved his hand in his bag, but his injury made itself known once more and he groaned.
“You’ve been hurt,” Briana said, touching her fingers gently to his shoulder.
“It is nothing.”
“Oh, it’s something all right.” She grabbed the cut material and quickly ripped it apart.
Horland stared at his bloody arm. “What are you doing?”
She shrugged. “It was already ripped.” She peered closely at the wound. “It’s not bad, but you could still get an infection.” She grinned. “Have you got any roots or plants or something that we could use, like, for medicine?”
He frowned. “No.”
“You must know of some though, right?”
Horland felt stupid then. He didn’t know of any. Any injuries he or his men sustained were always looked after by the closest town’s wise woman or a priest. His shoulders fell and he shook his head. “No.”
“Well that’s just silly. I would have expected King Pradwick to train his men in on-the-fly doctoring.”
She was talking nonsense. “There is someone at my destination who can help. As you said, it is not life threatening. Just leave it for now.”
He resumed searching his bag.
“No, not life threatening... yet.”
He ignored her.
After rummaging through the contents, he smiled at the girl and handed her a chunk of bread. She took it, dipped into a curtsy, and broke the bread in half, handing some to Briana.
She shook her head. “Thanks, sweetie, but I’m fine. You eat it, okay?”
The girl looked at Horland and he understood she wanted Briana to have something.
He unwrapped a slab of cheese, broke two pieces off and handed one to the girl and the other to Briana.
He’d only packed enough to keep one man alive for a few days, or if he were careful, a week.
Mayhap he could buy more provisions from the traders who used the road to Frother.
He pulled more bread off the loaf and handed it to Briana.
She smiled shyly and casting her gaze down, she dipped into a curtsy and took it. “Thank you.”
But the half smile that alighted her lips when she looked back up told him she was laughing at him again. The sooner he rid himself of the woman, the better. He packed the bag once more and hanging it over his shoulder, he stood up. “Can you walk and eat?”
Briana sniffed the cheese and nodded.
Taking the lead, Horland made his way to the road. Not three moments later, Briana came to his side and kept pace with him. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “How far is it to Frother?”
He looked at her empty hands then glanced over his shoulder at the girl. She had hardly started eating her portion of food. “Where is the bread and cheese?”
She grinned and patted her stomach. “In here. Thanks, it was scrummy.”
He frowned. Patricia and Dianne used foreign words all the time. If he remembered correctly, they would have said something was yummy if they enjoyed eating it. “Scrummy?”
“Ah, it was nice.”
“I am glad. From where do you come?”
“Ah, over the sea.”
“France?”
“No, across another big sea to the east of England.”
“I have no knowledge of any land across any other seas.”
She smiled and Horland was sure he sensed relief in her posture.
“It’s called America.”
Horland repeated the strange word slowly. “America.”
“Well, North America to be exact.”
“How is it that you are in Pradwick?”
“I’ve come to see my father.”
“How is it that your father is in Pradwick?”
She held her hand up to him, palm out. “Uh-uh, my turn to ask a question. How long before we get to Frother?”
“I am not going to Frother. I will see you to the road and you and the child can continue your journey there.”