Page 13 of Bound to a Highland Beast
“I must change,” Tiernan said, and for a moment, Isabeau had no idea what he was saying, until she realized he was soaked in blood. Naturally, he couldn’t go anywhere like that and expect not to draw attention, so of course he had to change clothes.
“Ach… aye,” said Isabeau. “I’ll… turn around. Tell me when ye’re ready.”
And so she turned her back to Tiernan and stared far into the distance. It had been a while since she had last encountered a clear horizon, and even now, there were trees on both sides of her, but right in the middle, down the path, she could see the line between the earth and the sky. As she waited, she rocked on her heels, the pain in her legs long forgotten from all the shock she had just experienced.
She was still in shock. She had no doubts about that. But she also knew that they could do nothing but keep going, hoping that in the end, she could return home.
I wonder what that laddie will dae now.
It wasn’t the child’s fault, she knew. That boy did what he had to do to survive, just like they were. She only hoped there was someone left to take care of him.
“Alright,” Tiernan called. “Ye can turn around.”
Isabeau did as she was told, turning to see Tiernan wearing the clothes of the larger man, which looked comically big on him. The neckline of the shirt was sagging around his neck and the sleeves hung down limply, making him look like a child in his father’s clothing, but the other man was too small for his clothes to fit him. When she glanced down at the brigand, she saw that Tiernan had taken the time to drape his own clothes over him, covering some of his body, and when she met his gaze, he gave her a small shrug.
“I thought ye wouldnae wish tae see… that,” he said, and it took Isabeau a few moments to realize he was referring to the man’s buttocks.
Isabeau drew in a sharp breath. “Right.”
“Well, we should probably be on our way,” he said, approaching Isabeau with a little hesitation. She tried to remain relaxedaround him, to show none of her inner turmoil, though she was certain she was failing in that regard. She hoped it would be enough to convince him she didn’t fear him—at least not as much as he may have thought.
The two of them walked side by side down the path, following it to the nearest place it would take them. Isabeau hoped there would be food there, if nothing else.
“At least we have gold now,” said Tiernan, breaking the silence between them. He pulled out a small, jingling pouch, and at the sight of it, Isabeau was gripped by a wave of excitement. One thing was finally working in their favor, it seemed. Maybe their luck had changed. Maybe they wouldn’t have to struggle for long. “It should be enough fer some food an’ board, an’ tae get us some clothes.”
It would have to be enough, she thought but didn’t say out loud. All this had taught her one thing: she knew nothing of the world and she couldn’t die before she found out more about its workings.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Isabeau caught the first glimpse of the houses in the distance, she could have sobbed with joy.
Nothing else mattered in that moment. They had already been travelling for a few hours, still on foot, hungry and tired and desperate for a break when they came upon the village. There was one thing she couldn’t have predicted, though, and it startled her when they reached it, walking through the narrow streets.
Everyone was looking at Tiernan.
Surely, part of it was because of his clothes and the fact that he still had some blood on him. They had tried to camouflage it as well as they could, but the brigand’s clothes had been stained when Tiernan struck him dead, and much of the blood on his skin was still there, even after he had tried to wipe it off. But that couldn’t be the only reason they were staring. Those were not curious stares, like she would have expected anyone covered in blood to receive, nor were they concerned.
Instead, they were equally fearful as hateful.
Whenever she was somewhere with her brothers, people would stare at them, too, but this was very different from what Isabeau was used to. Her brothers were respected and loved by the people. Never before had she encountered such stares and now that she was under scrutiny, she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“What is happenin’?” she asked in a low voice, leaning close so that Tiernan would hear her. He had his head down and was looking resolutely forward, avoiding people’s eyes even as he spoke.
“People ken who I am in these parts,” he said. “I’m nae very… liked.”
That seemed like an understatement to Isabeau. They had escaped the brigands, but now she feared these people would do something to retaliate for everything Tiernan and the Ravencloaks may have done to them. She stayed close to him, even going so far as to grab his arm as they walked, and she too avoided the stares of the people so as to not provoke them by accident.
“I must gather information about Constantine,” Tiernan said, but Isabeau couldn’t imagine how he could possibly be concerned about that in that moment.
“Later,” she said. “First, we must find a room an’ some food. An’ clothes. We cannae keep walking’ around like this.”
They had to wash the grime and blood off them if they wanted to have any chance of people speaking to them. Besides, Isabeau was starving and she was certain it was the same for Tiernan. Neither of them had eaten in a day and it was taking a toll on her.
Tiernan grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but then he pulled Isabeau towards the village inn. Once inside, the innkeeper, an older man with a greying beard and inquisitive dark eyes, gave them a sharp, curious look, and so did everyone else.
It was a small place, one which must have had few rooms for travelers, but the lobby was warm, heated by a large fire, and neat. There were a few empty tables and a few which were occupied by patrons, some of them eating and others drinking, but there was none of that familiar stench of alcohol in the room, much to Isabeau’s surprise. In the inns where she had stayed in the past, there had always been a distinct smell of ale permeating every inch of the building.
“Room?” he asked, already reaching for a key.
