Page 20 of Ensnaring the Dove
The old woman screwed her face up before muttering something under her breath.
Ignoring the insult, Aedan motioned to Colombia. “Go on … take a seat. She’s going to give you clothes, but she wants the ones you’re wearing … and your belt and shoes … as payment.”
He expected Colombia to stiffen at this news, or to protest, but she merely nodded. She then moved over to one of the low stools by the hearth and lowered herself down upon it.
A sigh gusted out of her.
“Have you traveled far?” Enid asked then, her shrewd gaze sweeping from Aedan back to Colombia.
“Far enough,” Aedan replied, deliberately cagey.
“And where are you headed?”
“To the mouth of the River Tin.”
It was a deliberate lie, for it was probable Maccus and his men would travel this way in the next day or two. Enid would likely be only too happy to tell him what she could about the man and woman she’d given shelter to overnight.
This was a chance to send them in the wrong direction, for the River Tin opened into the sea, to the northeast—and after tonight, Aedan and Colombia were traveling northwest.
“Are your people from there?” Enid asked, not yet finished with her questions.
“Aye.”
The old woman’s gaze flicked to Colombia then, naked curiosity upon her face. “And why are you traveling with aRomanwoman?”
Aedan favored her with a thin smile. He’d been waiting for this question. “Colombia is my woman,” he said simply, deciding it was easier not to tell the truth. Even so, as he spoke the words, his pulse quickened, warmth spreading through his chest. The sensation was unsettling. It wasn’t the lie that made him uneasy, but the fact helikedthe crone thinking Colombia belonged to him.
Quickly, he shut that line of thought down.
Enid’s mouth pursed as if she’d just sucked upon a sour plum. “Why would you take up with the enemy?”
Aedan shrugged. “She’s beautiful … and her husband didn’t treat her well. I wanted her … so I killed him and took her.”
It was an arrogant statement, but not an uncommon one for a warrior.
Enid continued to observe him, and Aedan wondered if she believed him.
However, after a few moments, she turned to the simmering pot over the hearth.
A short while later, she dished them out clay bowls of stew, accompanied by hunks of coarse bread. It was simple fare, yet as he fell upon the meal, Aedan decided he’d never tasted anything so good. His hollow belly cried out for food.
He could have easily devoured four bowls, yet there was only enough for them to have two helpings each.
“I will make fresh bread for you to take with you tomorrow,” Enid announced, taking away their empty bowls. “Along with a few boiled eggs and some cheese.” She cast them an irritated look then. “I suppose you want a skin of ale too?”
“Yes, please, Mother,” Aedan replied, smiling warmly this time. He’d guessed she was the wise woman of Achwig, and as such addressed her with the respectful title her position owed. Like the druids, wise women—who also possessed healing skills—were both respected and feared, for they could communicate with the Gods.
Muttering under her breath, Enid shuffled outside with the dirty bowls. There was a well in her garden, where she would wash up.
As soon as they were alone, Aedan glanced over at Colombia. In the golden glow of the fire, she looked tired. They’d walked since daybreak, with only short rests along the way. They’d crossed two burns, where they’d been able to slake their thirst—and they’d found a growth of brambles heavy with fruit at the second burn, which had taken the edge off their hunger.
However, she looked ready to collapse.
Their gazes met before Colombia’s mouth curved into a half-smile. “I’m grateful this woman took us in.”
Aedan smiled. “Enid believes we’re lovers … so you might want to favor me with a dreamy look or two this eve.”
Colombia stiffened, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “Why did you tell her that?”