Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Bloody lacerations and agonizing moans did not deter her as she was soon stitching torn limbs, head gashes and bandaging less severe abrasions, the hem of her brown skirt being torn again and again for bandages.
“You will find us both courageous,” Fiona said, halting her mare beside him.
“You both fight but in different ways,” Tarr remarked with admiration. “Perhaps I was right about it not mattering which twin I wed.”
Fiona grinned. “Does it not? You requested a specific twin. Will you settle for less than what you bargained for?”
She rode off with a laugh and it brought a smile to his face. She was quick-witted and perceptive. Damned if she had not understood his pride in having the woman he had agreed upon.
“Raynor’s been captured!”
The yell drew everyone’s attention, and Tarr swiftly directed his stallion to converge upon the bloody man sprawled on the ground. He watched one of his warriors shove the twin away as she attempted to help Raynor. She shoved back, causing him to stumble, and dropped down on her knees beside Raynor.
As soon as the warrior had steadied his footing, Fiona had her sword at his throat. “Touch my sister again and it will be you who will need tending.”
“Sheath your sword,” Tarr said sternly as he swifty dismounted, grabbing Aliss’s arm and yanking her to her feet. “You will waste no time on Raynor.”
She jerked her arm free with such force that she stumbled, though hastily righted her footing. “He is severely injured; he needs immediate attention or he may die.”
“I care not,” Tarr spat. “He attacked my clan and suffers his own consequences.”
“I cannot just let him die when I have the skill to help him.”
“You would heal him so that I could hang him?”
“I would heal him and hope that you would have mercy and bring a senseless feud to an end.”
“Feud? I fight to protect what is mine,” Tarr said angrily.
“And he?” Aliss snapped. “Does he not do the same?”
“He is my enemy.”
“He is not my enemy,” she said firmly, and dropped to the ground to tend the unconscious man.
“We leave as soon as I see to my men. If Raynor cannot travel he remains behind to rot.” Tarr marched off, his warriors following.
Aliss’s attention remained on Raynor while she addressed her sister. “You know what to do.”
“I will see to it,” Fiona said, and with speed and skill born of experience she fashioned a hauler out of tree branches, grass, and moss and hooked it to her saddle with thick vines.
Aliss continued working on Raynor who remained unconscious.
“How bad is he?” Fiona asked.
“I am not certain. He suffered a wound to the head, which I have stitched, though much too swiftly. The rest of the blood on him is not his. I have cleansed what I could with what little water I have. I do not know if a fever will claim him before he wakes or if he will ever wake again.”
“You did what you could.”
“I will do more once we arrive at Tarr’s keep.”
“If he allows you,” Fiona reminded.
Aliss’s head shot up, her green eyes defiant. “I will see to his care regardless of Tarr of Hellewyk.”
“I doubt any one of Tarr’s men will lift a finger to help their enemy.”
“It matters not. You and I have moved a larger man.”
Fiona did not argue or object for in fact the man they had moved had been their ill father. With a blanket and much sweat and tears, they had gotten their father onto a bed they had fashioned on the floor in front of the hearth, and Aliss had made her first attempt at healing.
Raynor nearly matched Tarr’s height and though slimmer, his body was dense with muscle. His features were hard to distinguish from the blood that covered his face from his head wound. Aliss had cleaned him off as much as she could but much blood remained and was beginning to crust around his eyes, nose, and mouth. It would take a patient cleansing before he would be able to open his eyes, but that was the least of his worry.
Few survived a severe head injury, and the bumpy journey and a damp, dark cell would not help his recovery.
Aliss covered Raynor with her own blanket and had him ready to go before Tarr was prepared to depart.
“Tarr does not look happy,” Fiona warned as she watched him approach.
Aliss had just finished securing her healing pouch to her mare and turned to Tarr glaring down at her from his saddle. She glared back.
He looked from one twin to the other. “Hear me well, for my word is law. Raynor sealed his fate when he attacked my land. You attempt to heal a dead man.”
Tarr rode off with a loud snort from his horse punctuating his departure.
Aliss mounted her mare. “He has no heart and soul. It is good you will not wed him.”