Shadows in the Stone

by Diane Lynn McGyver

  Chapter 22

  His Dark, Blue Eyes

  One by one, Isla’s senses awakened. The pain in her legs and buttocks greeted her first. The bad dreams dissolved into one, and she opened her eyes. The tree branches overhanging her sleeping spot blocked the morning sun, but didn’t hide the ugly scowl of the hauflin who peered down upon her. She trembled, remembering the events of yesterday. He must have sensed her fear because a stupid smirk appeared on his face.

  Isla breathed easier when he turned and walked away. She sat up and pulled the blanket around her. The dwarf who had carried her to a safer location still leant against the tree. He ate bread from a brown bag. He didn’t spread anything on it like butter or fenberry jam. He ate it as if a big cookie.

  The strange creature which had held her by the hair and forced her to watch as the hauflin beat her granddas to death sat on the opposite side of the campsite. She shivered when she saw him watching her. In a meticulous motion, he sliced slithers of apple with a knife, placed them on his tongue and drew them into his mouth. The colour of his short, thick fingers appeared unlike anything she’d seen on a being. The putrid green looked like stains from squashed peas. His hair lay flat against its scalp as if a year’s worth of dirt weighed it down.

  The eyes frightened Isla the most. They stared at her as if looking into her head and reading her thoughts. The cold, green eyes, similar to the colour of the creature’s fingers, seldom opened more than half-way. He seemed to always be squinting at the sun though he sat in the shade.

  To settle her nerves, Isla forced herself to look elsewhere. She glanced at the dwarf. He held out a chunk of bread, waiting for her attention. He tossed it to her, and it bounced onto the ground. She picked it up and brushed the dirt away. After taking a bite, she nodded at the dwarf, silently saying, Thank you.

  As Isla ate, she watched the dwarf and occasionally glanced at the hauflin. The two didn’t seem to get along. They sat contently in their own space and didn’t make small talk. When she’d eaten the bread, a flask landed in the moss near her. Again, the dwarf made an offering. She unscrewed the cap and drank the cool water. She hadn’t realised the extent of her thirst.

  Without warning, the water vessel flew from her hands. The hauflin glared at the dwarf and threw the flask at him.

  “Keiron, I won’t let her starve.” The dwarf’s deep voice sounded fierce. It petrified Isla. “And I won’t take part in killing a child if that’s your intent.”

  The hauflin leered at Isla as if he’d strike her. Instead, he snarled and walked away.

  Isla’s hands shook. When the dwarf leant forward and held out the flask, she froze, terrified to accept it. He nudged her arm with it, but when she still refused, he moved closer.

  “Take it. Drink your fill.” His menacing expression eased, but his coarse voice remained. Then, with his back turned to the other men, it softened. “Take it.” His dark, blue eyes seemed familiar and kind and eased her fears.

  Isla accepted the flask. Keeping her eyes on him, she took a long drink. She wiped her mouth and handed it back. “Thank you,” she mouthed. He returned to his spot under the tree.

  No sooner had he settled when the hauflin approached with a dagger in his hand. He grabbed Isla by the hair and swung.

  She braced herself for the weapon. She felt a sharp tug on her head but no lasting pain. She gawked at the man and saw he held a handful of her hair. He grabbed another bunch and cut it from her scalp as if he cut dry grass to make a fire. She wanted her to reach up and protect her head but knew if her hands got in the way, he’d cut them, too. She braced herself for each sharp tug and slash. Bunch by bunch, her long hair created piles on the ground around her. The hauflin glanced at her once as he walked away, revealing the pleasure he’d gathered from his cruelty.

  With gentle strokes, Isla caressed the lots of brown hair on the ground. It had taken a long time to grow it but within minutes, the stranger had taken it away. Her das and Liam adored her long locks. Both felt so far away. Tears welled in her eyes. She might never see either of them again. The hauflin had said it himself: the castle guards would follow the other two into the forest. They wouldn’t follow her on the road. She sniffed back the moisture in her nose as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

  Her head snapped back by a sudden blow, sending her onto her back. She cowered beneath the hauflin.

  “Stop the salt water or I’ll slap yew agin!”

  Swallowing the ache in her jaw, Isla lay in the bushes, her arms covering her face. She peeked from beneath her bent elbow and eyed the man who now stirred hatred in her spirit. She noticed the dwarf had stood but didn’t make any attempt to stop the scoundrel. The dwarf sat back down. What did he call him? Keiron. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. By no means did he work at the castle in his filthy condition.

  The hauflin rolled up his blanket and tied it on the back of the saddle. Then he lifted the saddle into place and secured the cinch. The dwarf and strange creature packed away their gear and prepared their horses for travel.

  Isla cautiously sat up. The dwarf took the blanket and shook her hair into the wind. She watched it fly and settle on the forest floor and surrounding bushes. She picked up a few strands and held them close to her cheek. They felt soft and smelt like home. She folded them once then tied them together. Opening her pouch, she slid the knot of hair inside beside the book Alaura had given her…the book! She closed the pouch before anyone noticed her discovery.

  When she whirled about, she saw the dwarf watching her. He held up the blanket so no one else saw her actions. A peculiar expression crossed his face. She pulled her vest down to cover the waist of her pants and the top of the pouch. The dwarf finished folding the blanket and shoved it in his rucksack.

  “Can I relieve myself?” Her low voice sounded raspy.

  The dwarf turned. “Keiron, the lady would like to relieve herself.”

  The hauflin eyed Isla. “Go, but know this. If yew don’t return, I’ll hunt you down and beat yew until yor senseless. Yew’ll pee in front of us from then on!”

  Isla cast a fearful glance at the dwarf, but he shrugged his shoulders and continued packing. She searched the area and saw a break in the trees nearby. She walked towards it on shaky legs. After a minute’s travel, she found a hiding place. Her personal business completed, she dug into her pouch and gingerly pulled page one from her book. Her fingers moved slowly, trying to conceal every sound of the tearing paper. Once free, she folded the page and gripped it in her hand. She tucked the book into her pouch and returned to the campsite.

  She plopped down on the same spot on which she had slept, pretending to be sad about the hair. She missed her hair and felt naked without it, so to mourn the loss came easy. When no one looked, she slid her hand beneath a thick mound and deposited the first page of the book. Her task complete, she released a nervous breath. Her racing pulse slowed.

  Keiron mounted his horse. “Isla.” His rough voice revealed his meanness.

  How did he know her name? It rolled of his tongue as if he’d said it hundreds of times before. She had thought for sure he didn’t know her.

  “Isla! Get over here!”

  She flinched. The impatient man sneered at her. Though she didn’t want to, she walked to his horse. He reached down to give her a lift up and before she could think further, her sore bum hit the saddle, and the horse moved forward.