Strong Oak slung Claus over his shoulder, his older brother running ahead. Eager to be on an adventure or joyful at the promise of seeing their father again, either way, the children were excited as they left the camp behind.
Gretjen rode in front of Strong Oak, resting against his chest. He was a large man, although not quite as tall as the chief. Feeling the rippling of his muscles against her back she wondered if that is how he had come by his name. Surely she had nothing to fear sheltered within the warrior’s arms. He’d given his word to bring her and the children to Chief Red Hawk in safety. The sooner they reached the tribe’s encampment, the better.
Strong Oak, however, kept the stallion at a leisurely trot, taking care to not endanger Gretjen or her infant. The horse’s pace was kept so slow her elder son easily outran the horse.
“Do you need to rest?” Strong Oak’s voice was low, laced with concern.
“No, I’m fine. I am eager to reach our destination.”