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)
He was surprised by her candid answer and pleased. “I trust your decision.”
“A wise choice, she is an excellent healer,” Raynor said, entering the room.
“I can see that,” Tarr said. “You have healed well.”
“And sealed my fate?”
“That is a matter to be discussed”—Tarr winced as Aliss gently probed his wound—“at a later time. Do you know anything about the barbarian tribes to the north?”
“That is who attacked you tonight?”
Tarr nodded with effort. “What do you know of them?”
“They fight each other and have no honor.”
“There is unrest among them?”
“Much unrest, and there are those who seek to expand their holdings—”
“This arrow must be removed soon,” Aliss interrupted.
“In a moment,” Tarr said. “There is one; he is large and powerful—”
“Like few men you have ever seen, and he wears a wolf’s headdress?” Raynor asked.
“Like none I have ever seen, and aye, he wears the head of a wolf,” Tarr said. “With a single blow he pierced my arm with an arrow.”
“He is the leader of the clan Wolf, not only because of the headpiece he wears, but because his attacks are vicious and he leaves few of his enemy unscathed. He rules his land and people with a strong hand, and none dare oppose him.”
“I can understand why. When he lanced me with his arrow, the wolf’s eyes in the headdress glowed like an animal set to devour his prey. I was lucky he caught only my arm.”
Raynor grinned. “You were lucky, his weapon hit his mark. He speared your arm to let you know of his skill and intentions. He will return and the next time his aim will prove deadly.”
“No more talk,” Aliss said with a forcefulness that turned everyone silent. “This arrow needs removing now.” She turned to Kirk before anyone could protest. “I will need your strength.” She looked to Raynor. “And yours as well.”
“We do not need our enemy’s help,” Kirk spat.
“Then tend your chieftain yourself,” Raynor argued.
“I need no help,” Tarr insisted.
“You think so?” Fiona questioned.
“I will do as I see fit,” Tarr said.
“You will do as you are told,” Aliss ordered. “Or you will chance losing all strength in your arm. Now drink this.” She shoved a goblet in his face.
“Listen to her,” Kirk said, looking from one twin to the other. “She knows of what she speaks. She has cured many of the clans’ ills.”
Tarr hesitated then reluctantly swallowed the drink. The arrow would be removed and the skin sealed with a fiery iron. Then there would be worry of fever. He himself had helped close wounds such as his.
“Do what you must,” he said, and grabbed the arm of the chair, bracing himself for the pain. Kirk and Raynor lent their strength to him and held him firm.
Fiona stood ready to reach for the red-hot iron and Aliss wrapped a cloth around the arrow. With a skill that surprised everyone, she worked the arrow out of Tarr’s arm inch by inch.
Tarr did his best to remain still, gripping the arms of the chair, gritting his teeth and fighting the pain that attempted to consume him. Sweat broke out on his brow and spread slowly over his entire body.
He refused to surrender to the intense pain, chasing away the blackness that rose up to swallow him. He would remain alert and rejoice in the pain for it meant he survived the battle.
His gaze locked with the twin holding the poker iron. He concentrated on her green eyes filled to the brim with fear and gut-wrenching pain. That she suffered along with him was obvious. She had to be Fiona, and he told himself to remember later to look in her eyes—for he might be able to tell the difference if he remembers this look.
He did not take his eyes off her not even when the arrow was finally removed.
The poker iron came next, searing his arm in two spots. Tarr groaned from the stinging flesh and, for a moment, almost gagged from the smell. His ordeal had finally ended and he rested his head back against the chair, his eyes still on the twin.
“Get him into bed. He needs to rest.”
The twin he stared at spoke, though she grew blurry and his mind groggy. He was helped up and deposited in bed. His eyes closed of their own accord, even though he fought to keep them open as gentle hands touched his arm.
He did not want to sleep and appear weak. There were things he needed to see to, orders to give, the keep’s safety to maintain, his clan to look after and . . .
“The brew Aliss gave him will have him sleeping until morning; we have work to do,” Fiona said to Kirk. “Return Raynor to his room, then meet me in the great hall.”
“I can help,” Raynor offered.
Fiona shook her head. “You are a prisoner and Tarr will decide your fate.”