The Silken Cord Read Online Free PDF Page A

Quick,
gentle kisses meant to soothe her.
    Instead, panic climbed her throat. What if
he decided to kill her? Alone and defenseless, she was too weak to
fight him. Surely he also needed warmth.
    He trembled beside her and she clenched her
jaw against the blustery winds combing the beach. His big body
acted as a shield to protect her.
    "Must…find shelter," he mumbled.
    He stumbled to his feet and Ariana cried out
as the sharp breeze cut through her wet clothes.
    Come back!
    The words screamed inside her mind, but she
couldn’t speak. Her tongue felt like a leaden weight inside her
mouth.
    He bent down and pulled her up. Ariana
struggled to stand but her legs refused to support her weight. She
threw one arm about his neck and the feel of his faint warmth
tingled up her frozen flesh.
    “We must…get warm.” Wulfgar half-dragged,
half-carried her as they sought protection from the frosty
winds.
    He staggered and she pushed against him,
helping him stay upright. Together, they trudged inland, picking
their way through the darkness. If only they could find a cave or
tree to shelter them. The wind buffeted her, spitting rain as they
picked their way over the scratchy heather. Farther inland, thick
peat moss covered the shadowed ground. If they could get a
spark.
    “A fire. We have fuel,” she said.
    He grunted a reply.
    Her teeth chattered. Her common sense told
her she didn’t have long before she died of exposure. Without her,
Dafydd’s fate would be sealed. She must live.
    Please, God. Please help us.
    She prayed silently as they plodded on. And
then, she caught the faint scent of smoke. A large, dark shape
unfolded ahead of them, showing a faint light. A hut. Hopefully the
inhabitants would help them.
    She tried to point in that direction, but
her arm dropped against her side, too heavy to lift. Wulfgar headed
toward the shadowed darkness, then pounded on the door.
    “Open!” His voice sounded gruff and
strained.
    The door creaked and opened just a bit. They
found themselves staring at the point of a spear. A fire backlit a
tall man’s thin shape as he faced them.
    “What do you want?” he asked in Gaelic.
    “Sh…shelter, please,” Ariana responded
through chattering teeth.
    The man eyed them both before backing away
and admitting them into his humble home.
    The door closed behind them, shutting out
the wind. Ariana tried to smile at a plump woman who stood beside
the fire holding a sharp knife. The woman’s eyes widened with fear
and Ariana couldn’t blame her. If they lived alone on this island,
they must be wary of strangers.
    “Who are you?” the man asked.
    “We…we are castaways, thrown overboard
during the storm,” Ariana said.
    The man’s gaze swept their wet clothing and
soggy hair. Her explanation must have satisfied him, for he lowered
the spear and stood back, giving them access to the fire.
    “Warm yourselves,” the woman said.
    Made of what looked to be drift wood, the
one room hut offered only the barest protection from the storm. The
glittering fire made it snug and warm.
    A small babe lay nestled in a cradle beside
a pile of sleeping furs. The woman stayed close by, watching over
her child.
    “Very…sweet,” Ariana murmured as she gazed
at the sleeping child, so innocent of the chaos outside.
    The mother smiled shyly. “He’s a good babe.
He hardly ever cries.”
    “What are your names?” the man asked.
    “I am Ariana and this is Wulfgar.”
    Ariana purposefully omitted their titles.
Until Jenkin found her, she didn’t want these people to get any
ideas about ransom or other evil intentions. The man stared at the
slave collar around Wulfgar’s neck and undoubtedly guessed his
status.
    “I’m Callum and this is Gara, my wife.”
    “You’re Scottish. Thank you for taking us
in.” Ariana shivered.
    Wulfgar stood close beside her, never
turning his back on Callum. Ariana realized it was a defensive
gesture.
    “You say you are castaways?” Callum
said.
    “Yes. My…er, our