Wee William’s Woman
Late Winter 1345
Winter
was unrelenting. It held on as fiercely as a Highland warrior to his sword; it
refused to let loose its grip and allow spring its turn.
The cold night air bit at the nine men that
sat silently atop their steeds. Watching, waiting, looking for any movement,
any sign of life that might stir in the cottage that lay below them. Gray smoke
rose slowly from the chimney before disappearing into the moonlit night. The
smoke was the only sign of life coming from within the cottage.
Puffs of white mist blew from the horses’ nostrils
like steam from a boiling kettle. The nine were draped in heavy furs,
broadswords strapped to their backs, swords at their sides, and daggers hidden
in various places across their bodies. If anyone were by chance awake at this
ungodly hour, the sight of these fierce men would bring a chill of fear to even
the bravest of men.
Each man had been handpicked by his chief for
the special qualities he held. Whether it be his fealty, his fierceness, or his
ability to enter a place unheard and unseen. ‘Twas a simple task they’d been
given; sneak in under the cloak of darkness and retrieve hidden treasures so
they could be returned to their rightful owner.
The first inkling that things may not go as
planned came from the fact that it was not dark. The full moon shone
brilliantly, casting the earth in shades of blues, whites, and grays. Had they
not been delayed two days by a snowstorm of near biblical proportions, they
would have arrived two nights ago when it was certain to have been pitch black.
No worries, the leader of the nine had assured
his men. The inhabitants of the cottage were more likely than not fast asleep
at this hour. They would proceed with their mission, moon or no.
After studying the land and the cottage a
while longer, the leader gave a nod of his head. He and his men proceeded
toward the little farm, taking their positions around the perimeter. Two of his
stealthiest men headed towards the barn where they dismounted and with the grace
and silence of a cat, they entered.
He stood with two of his men not far from the
entrance of the cottage. They waited patiently, keeping a close eye on the barn
as well as the cottage. Everything seemed to be going as planned. But the
leader of the band of retrievers would not breathe a sigh of relief until they
were far away from these God forsaken English lands. The longer he remained on
English soil, the dirtier he felt.
He wished he could bust down the door of the
cottage and slit the throats of the three bastards inside. But his chief had
shot that idea down, but not before thinking on it for a long moment. The chief
had admitted nothing would have brought him greater pleasure than knowing the
bastards would not live to see the light of another day. But he could not allow
his men to take the chance of being found and taken to the gallows.
Nay, their mission was simple and if all went
well, no blood would be shed this night. In a manner of days, should the
weather hold, the treasures would be returned and the men handsomely rewarded
for their efforts.
Uneasiness began to creep in under the skin of
the leader. The men in the barn were taking too long. Concern began to well in
his belly. If the treasures weren’t where they should be, he’d have no problem
then in busting down the door to the cottage and killing the men inside. He
shuddered when he thought of returning empty handed. ‘Twas a possibility he did
not enjoy. He swore under his breath he’d tear this farm apart until he found
what he had come for.
God’s teeth! What was taking them so long? He
exchanged a look of concern with the two men who sat on horses beside him.
Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones.
After what seemed like hours, his men appeared
from the barn and looked across the yard. They held up empty hands as they
shrugged their shoulders. Damnation! This was not good, not good at all. He let
out a heavy sigh and hung his head.
’Twasn’t exactly how he had planned it, but at
least now he had the opportunity to bash in the skulls of the three men inside
the cottage. The idea of giving the sons of whores their due brought a pleasant
tingling sensation to his belly. The night would not be wasted, treasures or
no.
MORE,MORE!! I can't wait!! This is worse than being a kid at Christmas!! LOVE IT.
ReplyDeleteVirginia
Did you see chapter one Virginia? ;o)
DeleteThe third book is amazing!! I have laughed so hard. I'm right in the middle of it, hard to put it down. I love that you keep bringing back all the original characters. When you have Angus, Duncan, Ashlinn..etc back in there adding their two scents...it's wonderful. I can't wait for number 4. Book 1 and 3 are my favorites so far...the banter between them all is awesome and the plots....awesome!!!!
ReplyDeleteAwww! Thanks! I am glad you are liking it. Thank you so much!!! ;o)
ReplyDeleteI am looking forward to sharing Rowan's Lady with you!
Suzan
This one is my favorite. Loved that you keep bringing back the original characters and actually give them dialog and purpose. Laughed so hard so many times...I was in tears. Can't wait for the other two!!
ReplyDeleteReally nice
ReplyDeleteWanna join Pakistani chat room? join now our best online chatting rooms without registration
Chat room
Pakistani chat room
Girls Chat room without Registration
Pakistani chat rooms with web radio
Karachi chat room
Islamabad chat room
Indian chat room
Apply for Rj or Dj
Hey there, If you want to learn and speak english frequently you need to some practice first with native english speakers so we are providing English Chat Rooms for new learners.
ReplyDeleteAs everyone knows Yahoo Chat Rooms has been closed few years ago people wants to chat like yahoo public chat room but unfortunately they not decided to open again so we start chat like yahoo messenger.
Let's chat!. This is our slogan for a clean and decent chat. Our chat rooms are free and only for decent chatters Chat Rooms
ReplyDeleteIts Chat Room basically We do not allow any kind of vulgar words in our chat rooms. To the all the boys, please be nice to all the girls.