Free The Legend of the Bloodstone by E B Brown Page B

left her alone, but a nagging voice in her ear wondered when she would see him again, or if he would return soon to continue ordering her about like she was his personal property. Well, he could stay away all day for all she cared. She was not thrilled with the prospect of deceiving him to get the Bloodstone back, but it was the only chance she had. As much as she would like to smack the smirk off his handsome face, she felt a twinge of anticipation at the thought of letting him kiss her again, glossing over the fact that it was a means to an end and nothing more. 
    Her bladder felt near bursting, so she stopped off in the bushes to relieve herself before she made her way to the lean-to.  She could take care of Blaze, and maybe come up with a few ideas of where Winn hid the Bloodstone.  He had few personal belongings, and she had already searched them thoroughly, so she was certain the stone was not in his yehakin.
    She grimaced at her toileting options, leaves or more leaves, and hurriedly completed the task before anyone noticed she was gone.  It was bad enough walking around with no undergarments, but to have been observed during such a personal act would be humiliating.  She never thought herself a shrew in her own time, yet among the women of the village, she was most assuredly the strange one.  Maggie insisted on covering herself, unwilling to wear the skirts the others wore with only a mantle loosely covering their breasts, her modesty a well-ingrained trait she was unable to change even if it meant fitting in. Teyas understood, and Maggie felt lucky to have her as a tentative ally.  The younger woman took to wearing a full dress very similar to the ones she gave Maggie, as if she gave her silent support by emulation. Maggie was glad for any camaraderie she could get.
    Chetan was preparing to mount his pony when Maggie arrived.  Makedewa was already astride, his horse pawing impatiently at the dirt as they waited for the other warrior.  She was unsure if she should approach Chetan, but when a warm smile creased his face, she decided it was safe enough and continued.
    “Red Woman,” he nodded. “Your Blaze grows well, I think he will be a great stallion someday.”
    They turned to watch the colt, who perked up his ears and issued a shrill whinny at the site of her.  Chetan chuckled and Maggie reached in the fold of her waistband to find a sliver of apple she brought for him, reaching over the rail with the flat of her palm in offering.  The colt quickly slurped up the fruit, leaving a slimy mess on her palm, which she rubbed off on the edge of her dress. Chetan watched the exchange, but his smile faded as he took her hand in his own.
    Startled by the contact, but unafraid, she watched as he slowly turned her hand over to stare at her scarred palm.  It was the hand that she held the Bloodstone in, and i t was creased with a healing silver scar, a heart shaped knot that looked strangely organized as if it was a brand.
    “Ah, you have been marked. I see now,” he said softly, as if to himself.
    “What do you mean, marked?”
    “The Bloodstone.  It marked you, so you must truly be from another time. A woman who time walks,” he muttered as he shook his head, his round cheeks now more serene than smiling. “Is it a peaceful place, this time you come from?”
    “It is very different,” she offered. “Peaceful enough. ” Thoughts of the life she was torn away from were like lead in her throat, and she shook her head against the tears that threatened. “I miss it very much,” she admitted.  He ducked his head, squinted his eyes, and uttered a nervous cough to clear his throat.
    “Maybe you are here because you should be.  I think if you open your eyes, you will find happiness here with our people.”
    She did not answer him, unwilling to argue when he was trying to be kind, so she shrugged her shoulders in response as she remained silent.
    “Winn buried the Bloodstones to keep you away, but still