muscles in his back and legs. He lay on his belly, head turned toward her, a bloody mess. âWho is he?â
The Roush, Michal and Gabil, exchanged a glance. âWe donât know,â Michal said.
âHeâs no one we know,â Gabil blurted. âNo sir, this oneâs from one of the other villages.â
Rachelle stopped, mesmerized. One arm lay at an odd angle, cleanly broken below the elbow. Empathy swelled in her chest. âDear. Oh dear, oh dear.â She dropped to her knees by his shoulder. âHow could anything like this possibly have happened?â
âThe bats. I led him from the black forest,â Gabil said.
Alarm flashed. âThe bats? Heâs been in the black forest?â
âYes, but he didnât drink the water,â Michal said.
Silence settled over them. This was the work of the Shataiki! Sheâd never actually seen one, much less encountered their fangs, but here on the grass was evidence enough of the terrible beastsâbrutality. So much blood. Why hadnât the Roush healed him immediately? They knew as much as she how blood defiled a man. It defiled man, woman, child, grass, water, anything that it touched. It wasnât meant to be spilled. And on the rare occasions that it was, there were accommodations.
Rage displaced her alarm. What kind of thinking could influence any creature to do this to a man?
âThis is why Tanis has talked about an expedition to destroy the bats!â she said. âItâs horrible!â
âAnd any expedition would put Tanis in the same condition!â Michal snapped impatiently. âDonât be ridiculous.â
Rachelle returned her gaze to the bloodied body. He was breathing steadily, lost to this world. Such a poor, innocent soul.
Yet an air of mystery and intrigue seemed to rise from the man. He had entered the black forest without succumbing to the water. What kind of man could do such a thing? Only a very strong man.
âThe water, Gabil,â Michal said.
The smaller Roush withdrew a gourd of water from under his wing.
Rachelle wanted to reach out. To touch the manâs skin. The thought surprised her.
Could he be the man? This thought surprised her even more. How could she dare think of choosing a man she didnât know for marriage?
Michal had taken the pouch from Gabil. He pulled the cork from its neck.
How absurd that she should think of this brutalized man as anything more than someone who desperately needed the water and Elyonâs love. But the thought swelled in her mind. She felt herself irrevocably drawn to it, like blood to the heart. Since when did men and women qualify the ones they chose? All men were good, all women were good, all marriages perfect. So then why not this man if she felt so suddenly drawn by compassion for him? He was the first sheâd ever seen in such desperate need of Elyonâs water.
Michal waddled forward. He tilted the flask.
Rachelle lifted her hand. âWait.â
âWait?â
She wasnât sure what had come over her, but emotion tugged at her heart in a way sheâd never quite felt before. She looked at Michal. âIs . . . do you think heâs marked?â
The two Roush exchanged another glance.
âWhat do you mean?â Michal asked.
The manâs forehead, which would bear the mark of union, was covered in blood. She was suddenly desperate to wipe the blood and see if he bore the telltale one-inch circle that signified his union to another woman. Or the half circle that meant he was promised. But she hesitated; spilled blood was the undoing of Elyonâs creation and should be avoided or immediately restored.
Michal lowered the water pouch. âPlease, you canât seriously be thinkingââ
âItâs a wonderful idea!â Gabil said, hopping up and down. âHow wonderfully romantic.â
âWhy not?â Rachelle asked Michal.
âYou donât even know
C.M. Steele
Jayne Faith, Christine Castle
Stephen L. Carter
Vicki Lewis Thompson
Deborah Crombie
Violet Jackson
Elmore Leonard
Aminatta Forna
George Barker
Virginia Reede