Fearless Warrior: Isaacson Trilogy Book Two

10

Piper clamped her mouth shut, and by the fierce light in her eyes, Esmund knew he wouldn't get an answer. He ground his teeth to stop saying anything that would only worsen the situation.

If there was one thing he'd learned in his life, it was that there was nothing worse than dealing with stubborn women—other than stubborn, angry women.

"Is it a brothel?"

Her eyes darkened with anger, and her nostrils flared, "And what if it is? Would you no longer want to help us, knowing we're nothing more than soiled women?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "We deal with prostitutes more than you'd think." He paused, squinting as he repeated those last words in his head. "What I meant to say-"

But, before he could utter another syllable, Piper stomped away and returned to camp.

"So, it's not a brothel?" he called after her.

"What isn't a brothel?" Ulric groaned.

Esmund spun on his heel and automatically responded, "Briarwood." It took several seconds for him to locate Ulric huddled on the leaf-covered ground, propped up against a thick tree trunk ten feet away. His head rested on bent knees, and his arms latched around his legs with such strength that the muscles and veins of his forearms bulged. Esmund's stomach twisted as a sense of unease settled between them.

He approached Ulric with caution, "You all right?"

Ulric tensed the closer Esmund came. He shook his head but didn't raise it from his knees. "Never been better, little brother."

Sweat glistened on Ulric's forearms and stained the shirt under his arms and across his broad shoulders. His entire body trembled as though wracked with fever. "How long have you been feeling unwell?"

"I'm not unwell."

"Neither are you a glowing example of vigorous health right now, which makes one of us a liar...and I'm pretty sure it's you." Esmund stopped two feet away from Ulric and tried to ignore the icy-cold dread sitting like a dead weight in his stomach as he stared at his brother and waited for an answer.

"I'm fine. I just need a minute..." Ulric whispered, avoiding Esmund's gaze and staggering to his feet with the aid of a nearby tree. He wiped his brow and stepped closer to camp, "Get some sleep. We'll leave in an hour."

Esmund chewed on the inside of his cheek, watching Ulric stumble over to Toots. He was a few feet away when Toots whinnied and reared for several heart-pounding seconds before allowing Ulric to come closer and calm him down. Both man and beast acted out of character, causing alarm bells to ring through Esmund's mind.

He didn't know why, but he knew it was crucial for Ulric's well-being that they return home without delay. So, Esmund marched over to his gear near Frisky. "You know, I managed to get a little sleep by the creek, so how about we head out now?" He was so tired that a small part of him wept as the lie crossed his lips.

Ulric's hand clenched and unclenched twice against Toots' black mane before he turned to Esmund, "You sure? We still have ten or twelve hours until we reach Buffalo Gulch."

Esmund's gut churned at the idea of ten more hours in the saddle before being able to sleep, but one look at Ulric's eyes made up Esmund's mind. "I think I'd rather continue unless you need more rest?"

"No, no...I feel good, just ready to be home, I think."

"Alright, start saddling up. I'll wake the women and break camp." He turned from Ulric to find Elsie sitting up and staring at him. Her brow puckered in a delicate frown, and her eyes mirrored his concern, but if he acknowledged it, panic would take over, and he'd be useless to any of them.