Page 17 of Ensnaring the Dove
THEY WALKED SOUTH for a spell, through woodland that grew increasingly sparse, before Aedan turned left, and they trekked over rolling hills. Traveling a couple of yards behind the Brigante, Colombia struggled to keep up with his long stride. The day before, he’d towed her after him during their flight from the outlaws—and that run had left her muscles aching, her body stiff. She wasn’t used to journeying long distances, and her clothing and footwear weren’t suited to it either.
She wanted to ask him to slow his pace a little, yet every time she opened her mouth to do so, she recalled the leering face of the outlaw who’d tried to rape her, and the sight of her dead companions.
Those memories made Colombia grit her teeth and quicken her step. Pride also kept her going. Aedan already thought her a pampered, spoiled—and foolish—Roman noblewoman. She didn’t wish to give him more reasons to look down his nose at her.
Even so, her leather slippers were starting to chafe badly now.
Mid-morning, she could endure the burning pain in her feet no longer. She called out to Aedan to halt, while she lowered herself onto the grass and yanked off her footwear.
She was examining the bloody, weeping blisters that had burst on her toes and heels when a shadow fell over her.
Colombia glanced up to see Aedan standing there, his brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me your feet were paining you?”
Colombia frowned back at him. “I didn’t want to slow us down.”
He huffed a sigh before hunkering down to take a closer look. “Well … you’re not much good to us if you can’t walk.”
Colombia was about to shoot back a clipped retort when he reached out.
The feel of his fingers, strong and warm, yet gentle, wrapping around her ankle, made her catch her breath. His move was unexpected, yet he didn’t seem to notice her surprise. Instead, he raised her foot so he could examine the burst blisters on her heel.
His mouth compressed. “Those slippers are coming off,” he muttered. “They’ll cut your feet to ribbons if you continue wearing them.”
Colombia stiffened. “I’ll have to travel barefoot?”
He nodded, gently setting her foot back down and releasing her ankle.
A frisson of disappointment arrowed through Colombia—a discomforting reaction indeed—at the severed touch. She should have been indignant that he’d taken hold of her ankle without asking permission first, but instead, once the initial surprise had passed, she’d found the feel of his long fingers circling her ankle reassuring.
“But won’t I get prickles and thorns in my soles?”
“You will.” He rose to his feet, his mouth curving. “Although your feet will toughen up soon enough.” He paused there, the glint in his blue eyes telling her that he was enjoying her indignation. “Fear not … there’s a village we should reach by nightfall where we can get you leather foot wrappings and some more suitable clothes.”
He’d drawled those last few words; however, Colombia wasn’t going to rise to the bait. She wasn’t going to live up to his poor opinion of her. Biting back a tart comment, she rose to her feet and picked up her battered-looking slippers. She might as well carry them, just in case she needed them to cross boggy or muddy ground.
She then favored Aedan with a level look. “Come on, we’d better get moving.”
They set off again, and Colombia had to admit that it was a relief not to have burning pain lance through her heels and toes with every stride. They walked over grassy hills, and she kept a look out for thistles or anything that might hurt her tender soles.
She was fortunate, for she walked across soft grass at present; even so, fatigue pulled down at her limbs, and her thigh muscles burned. Her body wasn’t used to such rude treatment. She’d sleep like a stone tonight.
Despite her exhaustion, Colombia found herself glancing over her shoulder as they traveled. After yesterday, her nerves were stretched taut. Aedan had assured her they were far from the outlaws now, yet she kept expecting to see figures appear on the horizon behind her in pursuit.
Nonetheless, it was impossible to ignore that it was beautiful out here, surrounded by a wide pale-blue sky and endless emerald hills. From the moment she’d disembarked from the boat that had brought her to Britannia, she’d been fascinated by just how green this land was.
Within days, she realized why. It rained a lot here, and despite that it was summer, the sun lacked force. It was no wonder the grass grew so thick and lush. She was certainly grateful for it now, for she wore no head covering to protect her pale skin.
Aedan strode out in front of her, his gait determined, his head moving left and then right as he surveyed their surroundings.
Unease tickled the back of her neck once more.
It seemed that, despite his assurances, he too was on the lookout for trouble.
Eventually, Colombia asked, “Won’t the outlaws eventually give up on us?”
Aedan glanced over his shoulder, pushing a lock of light-auburn hair out of his eyes. He wore his hair longer than the men of her own people did; it was wild and reached just above his shoulders.
“Unfortunately not.” Perhaps seeing the alarm on her face, Aedan flashed her an apologetic half-smile. “It’s not just you they want … it’ll be reckoning against me. That’s why we need to get to Onnum.”