Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“True enough,” Anna said sadly. “Lately, a few of us have thought differently.”
“Why is that?”
Anna shrugged and averted her eyes.
Aliss would have none of it. “Tell me, Anna, what wagging tongues say about me.”
“Nothing bad,” Anna reassured. “Many rather hoped that you would choose to remain here with us.”
“Why?” Aliss tugged at the last knotted strand of hair.
Anna grinned and leaned closer. “Many of us hoped that you and the Wolf would fall in love.”
Aliss’s mouth fell open and the comb dropped from her hand. “Fall in love?”
“We all had hoped he would find love again. The Wolf is such a good man. He deserves someone special and we all agree you are very special and just right for him.”
Aliss sputtered in shock. “H-he ab-abducted me. How can I be right for him or he for me?” She may have given the prospect thought, but to hear another voice, it startled her.
“His intentions were good. He meant you no harm; we desperately needed a skilled healer. Being the protective chieftain that he is, Rogan saw to our needs.”
“And nothing more?” Aliss asked, trying to assuage the nagging doubt that would creep up on occasion and tempt her sanity.
“What more could there be?” Anna asked curiously. “You see for yourself the illness that brought you here. We are a simple people who love and laugh and break bread together.”
Aliss’s brow wrinkled. “You break bread together.” She grabbed hold of Anna’s arm. “All bread?”
“What do you mean?”
“Does everyone eat the same type of bread?
“More eat the light than the dark bread,” Anna answered.
“Which do you and John eat?”
“The light, sweeter bread.” Anna shook her head. “The black bread is tasteless to me.”
“Not bitter?”
Anna had no more than given her head one shake when Aliss jumped up and hurried off. A surprised Anna followed quickly behind her.
Aliss hurried to find Rogan. She had to speak with him now. It was important. She heard the clash of swords and knew he practiced with his men. It was a daily ritual meant to keep their skills sharpened.
She pushed past the circle of men and stopped a safe distance from the mock battle.
“Stop!” she yelled at a high pitch that had everyone cringing.
Rogan turned a shaking head at her.
“It is important. I need to talk with you right now,” she said.
His opponent wandered off, as did the circle of men, giving the couple a modicum of privacy.
She marched right up to him. “Did Myra tell you something about black bread that Ivan had eaten before he had gotten sick?”
“Yes, she—”
“Has Derek eaten black bread?”
Rogan nodded.
“Young Daniel?”
“I am not sure.”
Aliss turned with a flourish but was stopped when Rogan grabbed her arm. “I will go with you.”
“Put down your sword, then, for this enemy must be vanquished with the mind as the weapon.”
He did and they hurried off together, Anna rushing to keep up.
In no time, Aliss discovered a trail of sickness that followed the black bread and it led to Margaret, the old woman who had originated the recipe.
Margaret was not at her cottage when they stopped and the three divided up to locate her. Anna found her and quickly fetched Aliss and Rogan.
“I saw Margaret enter James’s home, a basket on her arm,” Anna said, breathless from running.
Aliss bolted past the two, her skirt hiked up in her hands and her feet pounding the earth. She came to an abrupt halt once past the opened door and quickly searched the room.
James was sitting by the fireplace, his grandparents were at the table, and Margaret was spreading honey on chunks of black bread. They all greeted her with a smile and invited her to join them.
Aliss went over to Margaret and took the offered bread from her hand. “Thank you, but I need to speak with you first.”
Anna and Rogan entered.
“Anna, please see that everyone waits for us to share the delicious bread,” Aliss said, her hand gently guiding Margaret out the door. She nodded for Rogan to follow.
The old woman’s steps were slow and Rogan helped her to sit on a bench near the door, which Aliss closed so no one could hear their conversation.
“How long have you been baking black bread, Margaret?” Aliss asked, sitting beside her.
“As long as I can remember.” She smiled. “Not everyone has a taste for its distinct flavor.”
“So I have learned.”
Margaret pointed a finger at Rogan. “He never liked it.” She patted Aliss’s arm. “You should try it.”
“I will. Have you made it the same way all these years?”
The old woman seemed reluctant to answer.
“It is important,” Rogan said firmly.
Margaret leaned away from Aliss and cast an anxious look to Rogan. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No, Margaret, not at all,” Rogan assured her.
Margaret sighed. “To be truthful, it is not I who have baked the black bread these last few months.” She held up gnarled fingers. “I cannot knead the bread as I once did so Tara has been kind enough to mix the ingredients and knead the dough and leave the loaves for me to bake.”