Dark Feather: A Dark Post Apocalyptic Romance by Alta Hensley Read Free Book Online Page A

its glow silvering the snow, I switched weapons.
    Doubled axes first. I spun across the ridge, slashing and hacking through imaginary men. First high and then low, defending with one and then with the other. I practiced until my muscles ached. It was my first real exercise since I had been wounded, mostly because Rigby would not let me out of his sight. I smiled again, nearly laughing. They probably all thought I was daintily asleep like a good little woman.
    Sheathing the two throwing axes, I again stretched to ease my muscles and paused before starting my practice with the larger, two-handed axe. The icy land was still, stiller than it had been before. Even the breeze had lightened and was barely stirring the snow.
    I drew the two-handed axe and began. I focused on attacking and strength training. The snow dunes were soft enough and didn’t dull the axe head too badly when I struck them. So I worked, striking the blade into the snow mounds as if I were cleaving armor.
    But it was useless. No matter how I practiced and punished my body, I could not drive the nagging thoughts from my mind—Rigby and his words on submission. Why was the man looming in my thoughts?
    “Why?” I gasped, striking hard at the snowy banks. “Why must a woman submit?” As the question whirled, my anger grew, and so did my strength. I fought the banks until my might gave out and I collapsed, exhausted, upon the sloped side of my latest conquest.
    Rolling over, I watched an anthropod scuttling across the ridge. It was hunting, seeking and finding nothing. Its movements were swift as its almost transparent body scurried nearly invisibly across the snow. Suddenly it pounced, drawing out its prey from under a chunk of ice. After pausing, it scurried on, seeking more.
    Life on the icy land was like that, I realized. Everyone was always seeking something. Yet when they had found some of what they sought, they could not enjoy it, nor did it satisfy them. Instead, they scuttled on, hurrying through life while trying to find that little bit more before death claimed them. Was that all there was to look forward to in this life? Training, fighting, exhausting oneself, only to rest for a bit before scurrying on to the next encampment, the next battle. Surely there had to be more, something to make all this worthwhile. Something that a woman might find with a man like… No, I was so not going there!
    I sighed, preparing to head back to the camp. If I were found outside of it, I feared that Rigby would punish me—or worse, constantly guard me like a prisoner. He had warned me that I was to limit the use of my leg and to stay nearby. He actually said he would sting my backside with his hand until I never questioned his authority again.
    “Tudor,” came Rigby’s voice, stopping me as I prepared to rise. “Did you think you could slip out of camp without anyone following?” The torch he held in his hand highlighted his masculine features.
    Defenses raised, I rose and faced him. “I don’t believe it’s any of your business if I leave camp or not. I have scouted ahead plenty of times without a problem, and we have no enemies near enough to worry about.”
    “It is not the Penna that I’m worried about, but your safety in general. The men haven’t been around a woman in a very long time. If one of them sees you alone, I think even my warning won’t keep them away.”
    I bristled, anger brimming, then overflowing at Rigby. “And I suppose you think it is your duty to protect me? And that I’m a weak-willed woman who cannot tell one end of a blade from the other? Perhaps you think I’m helpless too? Even a whore?” I was shaking now, ill-prepared to understand how those I’d fought alongside could now relegate me to the status of helpless burden.
    “It is what the men think, not what I think, that matters.”
    “I care what you believe more than what the men think. You are their commander, after all, and if you ever let me fight again, you are