Free The Rebels of Cordovia by Linda Weaver Clarke Page A

breathlessly.
    Daniel smiled in a friendly manner and said,
“Are you Flann?”
    He nodded.
    “I’m Daniel and my friend here is Marie,” he
said as he put his hand on her waist. “We’re on an errand but you
look so weary.” He waved to the stack of logs the man was
splitting. “May I finish this for you?”
    The man was surprised but quickly accepted. He
leaned the ax against the pile of wood and then stood beside
Robin.
    “Why don’t we have a seat, Miss? This will take
a while.”
    She accepted and they walked toward a wooden
bench that was next to the house.
    Daniel took off his waistcoat and handed it to
Robin. Then he rolled his sleeves up, a few inches above his elbows
and went to work.
    He placed a log on the top of a tree stump. Then
he picked up the ax, raised it high above his head, and swiftly
swung it toward the log. Daniel’s biceps bulged as he hit the log
and split it in half. He did this same procedure again and again.
The sound of the wood splitting was almost mesmerizing.
    After a while, Flann nudged Robin and said, “I
really appreciate this. I was getting tired and the missus said she
needed more wood to do some cooking.”
    When he smiled at her, she asked, “Have you
lived here long?”
    “All our married life, which has been about
twenty eight years.”
    “So you knew King Edmund, then.”
    He nodded.
    “My father told me all about him. He said Edmund
was the best ruler in history.”
    Flann nodded. “You bet. He sure was.”
    When Daniel had been chopping wood for almost an
hour, Flann stood and said, “You won my heart, young man. I think
it’s time to quit.”
    Daniel wiped his damp brow. He looked down at
his shirt, which was soaked with sweat and clinging to him,
accentuating the shape of his broad muscled chest.
    He smiled and said, “Where’s your well? I need
to wash up.”
    Flann pointed toward the front door and said,
“I’ll get you a new shirt. You’re about my size.”
    As he went into the house, Daniel wearily walked
toward the well. He was exhausted.
    Noticing his fatigue, Robin quickly walked ahead
of him, took the bucket and dropped it into the well as she said,
“I’ll do it. You’re tired.”
    He nodded as he watched her pull the bucket up
by the rope. Then she placed it on the edge of the well and stepped
aside.
    “Thanks,” he said softly.
    He unbuttoned his dirty white shirt and pulled
it off. Laying it across the edge of the well, he splashed water on
his face and on his shoulders, arms, and chest.
    As Robin watched, she couldn’t help but notice
that every inch of his torso was muscle. His chest, shoulders, and
arms were as if some artist had sculpted every contour of his body.
She noticed how his muscles rippled along his arms. That was when
it dawned on her. It was evident that Daniel knew hard labor. He
never sat at a desk and ordered servants around, although he could
have if he wanted. He believed in work. Robin’s admiration for this
man rose by leaps and bounds.
    She tried hard to not stare but it was
difficult. Even her own men didn’t look like this. After working on
their sword fighting skills, they would be sweaty and take off
their shirts to wash up. But they looked nothing like this.
    When Daniel was finished, he turned toward her
with water dripping from his face and chest as he said, “Sure wish
I had a cloth to dry myself off.”
    “What?” asked Robin.
    Daniel looked at her curiously, “What’s the
matter?”
    Robin blinked a couple times and said,
“Nothing.” She looked around and didn’t see a thing. She shrugged
as she playfully said, “Do you want to use the hem of my
skirt?”
    He chuckled at her teasing.
    When Flann walked outside, he said, “I’ve got a
towel for ya.”
    Daniel winked at her and took the small towel.
After drying himself, he took the shirt that Flann offered him.
    “You can have mine in exchange,” said Daniel as
he motioned to his shirt lying across the well.
    Flann creased his brow and said,