Chapter 10
After riding the next day, they stopped for the night in a thick area of the forest. Marcus reached inside the saddlebag and pulled out a loaf. He got tired of eating bread all the time, but it was easy to carry on journeys. He broke it in half and handed one piece to Sage. Then, he pulled the flask out and uncorked it, passing it to Sage.
She took it and drank before handing it back. “Will you teach me to read now?”
Marcus grinned and picked up a stick. She was very determined. He set the flask on the ground and squatted down, etching words into the dirt. “This shan’t be hard.”
And it wasn’t. She knew the alphabet already, and she knew many of the two-letter words. He explained to her about the sounds the letters made, but she knew that, too. He moved on to simple sentences.
She was a fast learner. Eager. He was becoming intrigued at how her mind worked like a sponge. She wanted to soak in all the information he gave her. Not only was she beautiful, but she was intelligent and curious.
After a while, he set the branch down. “That’s enough for now.”
She scowled in disapproval and, with a sigh of resignation, dipped her hand into her armor and pulled out the book. She returned to the horse and opened one of the saddlebags.
Marcus knew she was retrieving the quill and ink. They would try to decode the book for a little bit before sleeping.
She pulled something out of the bag and stopped, staring at it in surprise.
Tingles danced along the nape of Marcus’s neck. He stood quickly and moved to her side.
“What’s this?” Sage asked, presenting him with a small cloth doll. A piece of fabric had been tied to form a body, head, and arms.
Marcus grabbed it from her hand and shoved it back into the saddlebag. “Nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing,” she accused. “It looked like a doll.”
“Forget about it,” Marcus ordered. “Do you want to decipher the book or not?”
Her mouth dropped in surprise before she closed it, shrugging.
Marcus found the quill and ink in the saddlebag and presented them to her. His tone might have been a little harsh, but she certainly didn’t need to know about the doll—the doll he had purchased for Rose.
He pushed the incident to the back of his mind and helped her decode for a while, suggesting words and ideas. But he was no expert at decoding.
Finally, he sat beneath a tree. He was exhausted from the day’s riding and needed to rest. He settled in, his back to the trunk and his sword within reach. He had to stay ready for anything. He knew others were after the book, and he knew he had to maintain his strength and stamina. His gaze scanned the forest.
He recalled one of the times he had been in a forest, watching. His gaze had been riveted on a small cottage with a thatched roof in the middle of farm fields. He had waited for hours in the brush before his sister, Emma, emerged from the house into the sunlight. Her blonde hair was tied back in a bun. She had picked up an empty bucket beside the cottage, as Marcus knew she would. She looked into it and pulled out the coin pouch he had left. She stared at it for a moment before whirling, her gaze searching the surrounding countryside. Marcus knew she couldn’t see him; he was well hidden behind trunks of trees and thick bushes.
She tied the pouch to her belt and set the bucket down before hurrying inside the cottage. He remembered the satisfaction that had filled him at giving her the coin. He wished it could have been more.
Then, Emma reemerged. His breathing had hitched as though he had gasped. He would never forget that image of her holding a two-year-old girl on her hip.
Rose.It was the only thing he had given the child. Her name.
He mentally shook himself. It did no good to remember. He looked across the clearing at Sage to distract himself. She was leaning against a tree; her head slumped to the side in sleep. She must be as exhausted as he was.
He stood and moved to her. He stared down at her for a long moment. The moonlight washed over her peaceful face. He closed the book and eased it from her grasp to place it beside her, knowing she would panic if she couldn’t find it. Then, he took a blanket from beside her and spread it over her.
She turned her head with a contented sigh.
He grinned, and his gaze hungrily swept her face—her smooth skin, her high cheekbones, her full lips. He quickly turned and stalked across the clearing to his spot beneath one of the elm trees. He was thankful he didn’t have to worry about Sage attempting to escape. She had given him her word. He sat down, leaned back against the tree, and closed his eyes.
Guillume was again before him, pacing. “I have charged you with retrieving the book, and you take time to teach this girl to read?”
“I sent you word. I will rendezvous with you at our meeting spot. I will hand over the book then. You have nothing to worry about,” Marcus said. “I will not betray you.”
“Betray?” Guillume smiled. “I said nothing about betrayal. What are you thinking?”
