Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Cavell wondered if they would feel that way once they looked upon him.
He shoved his hood off his head. “Then they will have no doubt as to who enters the village.”
Elsie was glad to see the clan greet him with welcoming shouts, generous smiles, and firm nods. Though it also worried her. It could mean her da’s illness had worsened and the end was close for him, and just the thought of losing him sent a dreadful pain to her heart.
“What’s wrong?” Cavell demanded, feeling her body tense as she tucked her arms tight against her chest.
“I worry over my da,” she said softly.
He offered what comfort he could. “You will see him soon.”
He only hoped she would not be disappointed.
A young lad, thin and tall with a tuft of flaming red hair and barely past ten years, hurried toward them when they stopped in front of the small keep.
“I am Rory, sir, and I would be pleased to see to your horse for you.”
With an arm around his wife’s waist, he lowered her to the ground, then dismounted and looked the lad over. “Are you strong enough to handle the likes of my steed?”
“Aye, sir, I am stronger than I look,” Rory said, drawing his slim shoulders back and lifting his chin with pride.
“You best be, or Quinn will show his displeasure,” Cavell warned and handed the reins to the lad.
“Come with me, Quinn,” Rory encouraged the horse with a slight tug on the reins. “I will give you a good rub down and feed you.”
The stallion snorted and followed along with the lad.
“Rory will take good care of Quinn. He is excellent with horses,” Elsie assured him.
Cavell was glad to hear it. The lad had impressed him by keeping eye contact and not once staring at his scars.
The door to the keep opened and a buxom woman with gray hair piled atop her head haphazardly stepped out.
“I am Cavell, Elsie’s husband, and I have come to speak with Chieftain Norris. I have brought a cleric along with me to comfort your chieftain.”
“Welcome, sir, I am Alda. I oversee the keep servants. Chieftain Norris will be pleased to see you and he will also be pleased that you have brought a cleric with you.” Alda stepped aside for the two to enter.
Elsie had detailed everything so clearly about her home that he felt as if he had already been there. The Great Hall was small as she had said, room enough for only four trestle tables with benches and no dais, no distinction that anyone led the clan. A low fire burnt in a fair-sized fireplace and wall scones with burning torches circled the room lighting it well. It was also the cleanest Great Hall he had ever been in.
“Take us directly to Chieftain Norris,” Cavell ordered.
“Your visit with him will have to wait.”
Cavell turned to see a stunningly attractive woman, tall, shapely, and with her dark-haired braid resting on her generous chest.
“I am May, the clan healer,” she said, introducing herself. “Chieftain Norris had a difficult night, and he finally sleeps. It would be best if you waited a couple of hours before speaking with him. You must be hungry and thirsty after your journey. Why not partake of food and drink while you wait.”
“An hour, no more,” Cavell ordered and saw that servants were already placing food and drink on one of the tables.
Elsie went to the table in hopes that he understood that she preferred to give her da time to sleep, and she was relieved when he followed her. She was not surprised to see May follow as well and join them.
Cavell took one of the filled tankards and drank. The ale was tastier than others he had had, and he drank nearly half of it. He was glad to see his wife reach for a piece of bread and cheese, and he did the same.
Cavell asked what he knew was on his wife’s tongue. “Has Chieftain Norris improved at all?”
“He has not grown worse, but he has not grown better either,” May said. “I thought by now he would rally and improve, but he lingers as he is, and it perplexes me. I have started him on a different brew in hopes that it will help him.”
“I hear you are a skilled healer, so I am sure you do well by him,” Cavell said.
“I do my best. My mum taught me much and I continue to learn.” May pointed to his face. “I can heal most of your scars if you let me.”
Skepticism flared in his eyes. “How can you do what others claim cannot be done?”
“I can do it because I know more than those fools,” May said. “The question is will you let me, or will you continue to hide behind your scars?”