Free The Angel and the Highlander by Donna Fletcher

need to know.”
    The other two men nodded and then the three walked off, Lachlan certain he’d find answers soon enough.
     
    Terese wore the nun garb proudly. After all, it had allowed her freedom. She and Piper arrived as night cast deep shadows over the landscape. They were escorted into the mercenary camp by a giant of a man, in height and width, though his girth was all muscle. His steps were confident as was his manner and she noticed that men quickly cleared a path for him if they should happen to be in his way.
    His name was Hagen. He had made it clear that they were to follow him after Piper had surprised him at his sentry position in the woods. He had been so startled that he stood staring down at Piper as if he hadn’t been certain she was really there. He had scratched his bald head and rubbed his chin taking time to determine how the wisp of a woman suddenly materialized.
    Terese at first thought to explain to the large man that they needed to speak with his leader, but it didn’t seem necessary since Hagen seemed to know what they wanted.
    The camp grew eerily silent the further they ventured into it. Piper took hold of her hand and Terese squeezed it to let her know all would be fine, though she wondered over the wisdom of her actions. There were many more men than she had imagined and with each campfire they passed, the faces became less and less friendly. You could see from the heavily scarredfaces and broken noses that never properly mended that these men were battle worn. They probably had stared down death on so many occasions that they didn’t fear it anymore. And that made for a dangerous man.
    At that moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if her decision had truly been a wise one.
    Hagen stopped at a campfire where two men sat and neither got up or acknowledged them once Hagen sat beside the smaller and stouter of the two.
    Piper moved closer to her, and Terese felt a tremble ripple through her thin body that left the young woman shivering.
    “I would like to speak with the leader,” Terese said softly.
    No one looked her way.
    “I have important information,” she tried again and the stout one snorted. She kept calm, though her heart beat madly. “It would serve you well to listen.”
    After one said something in a foreign tongue, the three men laughed.
    That they simply ignored her out of arrogance sparked her temper. She had experienced the same in her own family and could never stomach it, which was why her mouth had turned bold. It was a weapon that always worked well for her and she thought gave her courage.
    “Since the three of you are so stupid, I guess you all deserve what awaits you!”
    Piper stiffened beside her, not a ripple of a shiver remained.
    The three men’s heads shot up and their eyes glared like the fires of hell at her.
    “Your attention at last,” she said sarcastically. “Do you now want to hear what goes on in the woods around you while all of you sit here chatting like empty-headed women?”
    Terese didn’t need to look at Piper to see that she had paled as if death’s cold hand had touched her; she felt it in the defeated slump of her body. But Terese had no time to deal with Piper’s fear. She was too enraged by the situation and determined enough to see it through.
    The man in the middle stood slowly and Terese had to stretch her head up to look at him once he reached his full height. Dirt marred his face, but not his handsome features, add to that long dark hair and black eyes that impaled with a shiver.
    “Speak,” he ordered.
    “I am not an animal,” Terese said.
    His head reared back as if feeling the sting of her sharp tongue. “Then why do you bark and bite?”
    The other two laughed.
    “How else do I communicate with you, but to speak your language,” she retaliated and was surprised to hear a tiny chuckle from Piper.
    “Watch your tongue, woman,” the tall man warned.
    “I am Sister Terese,” she said with a proud toss of her head.