24
"My love." The coffin maker's voice was quiet, reverent as he kissed every inch of his beloved's face. She had gentle tears rolling down her cheeks, her large brown eyes gazing up at her husband as if she feared he would disappear. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, her grip deceptively strong as she clung to him. Around their legs, their loyal hound barked, his nose nudging his master's knees in his apparent joy to be reunited as well.
"Mistress!"
There was a loud commotion across the camp, and the couple flinched, their gazes turning to see one of the men rush from the firepit toward her. "Oi, another bandit!" he shouted, pointing at Edward.
"No!" Bella shouted, her heart lurching in her chest. "No, stop, this is my husband, the captive."
Even as she spoke, the coffin maker gently moved his beloved from his embrace, sliding her behind his body to protect her.
She, of course, wouldn't stand for such foolishness.
She stepped in front of him, despite his garbled protest, and planted her hands on her hips. The men of the village looked puzzled, but did in fact stop in the face of the tiny formidable woman.
"This is the hostage I told you about," she said, her voice steady despite the attention of the men before her. She was glorious and fierce, and Edward felt the love in his heart swell for her. "Have you secured the bandits?"
The man blinked at her stupidly before nodding, his head swiveling back to the men now roped and bound.
"Aye, we ha' 'em like you said," he said, turning back to her.
The coffin maker's wife nodded, poise in her posture. "Good, please ensure the men are taken back to the village. I've sent a man to the home of Countess Dumount," she continued. "Make sure these men are secured until the countess may decide what to do with them."
The men looked confused, but given that she seemed to be the only one who understood what was going on, they followed Mistress Masen's orders. She watched as they secured the bandits, Jasper working to ensure that the items that had been stolen were properly protected to be returned to their rightful owners.
It had taken a degree of convincing to get the men motivated to act in retaliation. They were all hungry for retribution, but not if a woman was to lead them to it.
In the end, it had been young Jasper who had influenced the men in the village to band together and take back the sanctity of death from these thieves.
Bella had been incredibly proud of the young apprentice.
She felt her husband at her back, and she turned, her arms sliding around him once more. Before he could breathe another word, she reached up, cupping his face gently between her palms. She lifted up onto her toes, and without a word, brought her lips to his.
He let out a harsh breath, one that spoke of his trials and tribulations, and let himself sink into her embrace, nearly overcome by tears at his relief to hold her once again.
The coffin maker's wife could taste the salt tears on her husband's lips, but despite that, he'd never tasted sweeter.
She pulled back, her hands still clutching his dear, beloved face.
"I love you," she murmured, her eyes so bright and fierce, they glowed in the night.
"I love you with all that I am," he said back to her, meaning every word.
Bella opened her mouth, perhaps to declare further love, or perhaps to admonish him for leaving for so long, he couldn't tell.
Her eyes flickered past his shoulder, and in a moment, her face turned as pale as the moon, her mouth dropping open in a silent, shocked scream.
The coffin maker spun around, his hands busy securing his wife behind his body again, as he prepared to fight whatever new nightmare would dare to part them again.