The Tides of Time(Book2 in the Time Travel Series)

Chapter Eight: Faith

She isn't Coira.

No. She was not Coira. Ciarada put much stalk in her prophecies and the sacred word of their goddess. When just a babe, the former priestess had been delivered a vision of Ciarada's future, how as a young woman, it would be she who would see truth from lie during their darkest time. It was by her goddess given talents that Brenhin became chieftain, their leader.

Perhaps this girl, this Tory, was a gift from her.

Brenhin snorted as he neared the hut. If so, the goddess had a strange sense of humor.

As he drew back the heavy pelt, he stopped mid step, staring inside the sunlit abode.

She stood with her back to him, completely unaware of his presence. She was in the midst of dressing in a man's tunic that was too big for her tiny frame, the hem of the shirt ending just above her knees. In her hand was a length of cloth, the girl was engrossed in wrapping the cloth about her waist as a make-shift belt. Brenhin seized the moment, allowing his gaze to wander over her.

She was different from Coira. Her hair was short of a woman, short for a man of his tribe even. In the too big tunic she wore she looked similar to a boy attempting to be a man. His gaze slid down her body down to her feet where a multicolored dress lay discarded.

Frowning, Brenhin knelt down, holding it out to her.

"Why don't you wear the dress Ciaranda brought you?"

The girl let out a loud gasp of surprise, spinning around to stare at him with wide dark eyes, a rose color touching her cheeks.

"You!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms out in front of her, as though to ward him off. "Get out now!"

Brenhin's mouth cracked in a smile, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Need I remind you that this is my home?"

Tory unleashed a poisonous glare on him, Brenhin could all but see the steam rolling from her ears.

"Fine! I'd rather stay outside anyway!" she threw him a scowl as she started to stomp past him.

Brenhin caught her about her waist, lifting her off her feet and into his arms. She was all but weightless in his arms, Brenhin felt a strange thrill of satisfaction at having her there. Tory, on the other hand, was far less enthused.

She wriggled, kicked and batted at him, fighting in every way he could to break free of his hold. Brenhin couldn't help but let out a rumbling laugh as he made his way towards the bed of pelts, and without ceremony dropped her there.

"Uff!" she cried as she hit the ground. "Why you-!"

"Ah! Enough of your poison tongue, goddess," he said as he took a seat on the bed of pelts. "Now. You and I are going to cease this childlike hostility, understood?"

Tory glared at him. "Bite me, Tarzan."

Faster than Tory could react, Brenhin had seized ahold of her hand brought it to his mouth and nipped at her fingers. Tory gave a squeak of surprise, ripping her hand from his hold.

"You-you bit me!" she yelled, her face heating. "You really bit me!"

Brenhin gave her a crooked smile. "You told me to."

Tory's mouth worked up and down but no sound escaped it. Brenhin smirked as he reclined back on the pelts regarding her closely.

"Now. I would like to speak with you-without your goading, nasty barbs and name calling. Can we both agree to behave?"

Tory said nothing, only gave him one of her petulant looks and remained silent. Brenhin took her lack of protest as a sign of agreement and continued on.