Chapter 5 #3
“My lord, husband,” Glenna said quickly, taking his hand in hers and nearly squeezing all the blood from it. Her other hand pushed hard on his shoulder. “Lie back down, my love,” she said through gritted teeth. “You hit your head and your sense is meandering. Fret not. I am here with you.”
He followed her lead, stayed silent and let her push him back down, curious to see how this played out. His sight was still off and he was weaponless. “Where is my sword? Bring it to me.”
“You must rest,” she insisted, starting to turn away.
He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her down close enough to whisper in her ear, “Afraid I might use it on you…wife?”
“No more afraid than you were of my bow and arrows. You need no weapon,” she hissed back at him. “There is no one here now but the healer. You are safe.”
“That I am lying here on my back and half blinded is proof I am not safe with you nearby,” he said.
“Step back, milady,” said the melodic voice. A strange, full-haired shadow of light and dark loomed over him. “Let me put more mixture into his eyes.”
He released Glenna’s wrist and she scurried back away. “My eyes? What mixture?” he asked the shadow.
“To wash away the ash and soot and soothe your poor eyes.”
“The hay cart fire,” he said flatly, remembering, and he eased back down and let the healer minister her medicine.
“ ‘Twill clear your vision, my lord.”
So he blinked and let her add more.
“Can you see yet?”
“Soon. Try again,” he said encouraging her as she added more liquid to his eyes. It was working. She repeated the process and each time he blinked his vision became clearer, then slowly the shadow above him took sharp form.
His first reaction was to flinch but to do so would have insulted her. Out of appreciation for the old woman’s help, he returned her gaze kindly. He sat up again.
“You can see clearly?” Glenna came nearer.
“Aye…wife. As clearly as the day we were wed,” he said wryly and watched her flush. “Ah, one of my favorite memories. Surely you, too, remember it well.”
“Aye,” she agreed, eyeing him suspiciously.
He snatched her hand and pulled her closer, slipping his arm around her waist and resting his hand low on her soft and rounded buttocks. “Tell our tale to the miracle healer here. I’m certain she would find our great romance vastly interesting...a tale for the bards.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and he merely smiled and rubbed circles over and over on her backside. She looked ready to bolt, so he gripped her more tightly. In turn, she cleared her throat loudly and pressed her elbow near his sore ribs and he winced and grabbed her elbow in a tight grip.
She would pay for that, he thought. She tried to edge away a step, but he pulled her back, slapping her buttocks harder. “Stay close, my sweet and tell the tale.”
“It was in the spring, “ Glenna began.
“Winter, sweetings,” he corrected. “After the first snow. Surely you recall as do I, as if it was yesterday, not but barely two years—“
“Six month hence,” she volunteered at the same time, and she hurriedly said, “Two years and six months.”
“The winter air was clear and brisk.”
“ ‘Twas spring,” she said pointedly. “Look, Montrose. Do you wish for me to tell the tale or not? Remember, my love,” she said sweetly, “that you have been recently knocked silly in the head, which would not have happened if I had my bow and arrows.”
“But not even a blow to the head could make me forget meeting you.”
“Most likely because your head is so hard,” she said under her breath.
“On with you, wife. Tell the tale.”
“I do not think so. Since you do not know the time of year we met, it is certain you are still too feeble-minded from your ordeal. You should rest now,” she said, patting his hand overly hard. “One would hate to find you exerted yourself and then turned into a simpleton.”
“It would take more than a conk on the noggin for me to forget that day…you vixen.” He held her to his side in an iron grip.
“She was like a cat in heat, so hungry she was for a good man. I carried the scratches on my back for weeks.” He brushed her chin with his knuckle.
“Close your mouth, love, else ‘twill catch flies.”
“It is you, my lord husband,” she said quietly, “who is made of the same stuff that attracts the flies.”
“Aye. Sweet as honey,” he said loud and merrily. “That surely is our love. Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.” He nuzzled her ear. “I could lick you all over.”
She gasped and stepped away.
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “I see that our great romance is not to be told of on this day. Therefore I apologize, madam. I believe my wife has grown suddenly modest.”
The old woman turned and reached for her staff, but not before she gave him a quick wink.
Lyall shifted, looking around the room, and he spotted his saddlebags in the corner along with Glenna’s belongings.
He noticed then the great hound was not at her side and wondered where it was.
Slowly he stood and felt the solidness of ground with relief, his legs firmly planted and his head did not swim, his sight clear, perhaps, surprisingly, clearer than before the hay fire.
A few minutes later he handed some silver to the healer. “You have my gratitude, old woman.”
“I am Gladdys,” she said, giving him a penetrating and long and silent look, before she turned to leave. “And I can only heal a hairsbreadth of what has passed.”
His mood, light from all that foolishness with Glenna, waned quickly, and he grew quiet and pensive from the old woman’s knowing look.
She paused in the doorway and faced them both, tapping her staff three times, until Glenna, too, had turned around and was paying attention.
“This room still be over-crowded,“ she said directly to Glenna. “Deceit weighs heavily in the air.”
He stared long and hard at the woman. What was she about?
“Know ye, girl,” she continued. “I have no chant to fix what problems plague ye in the here and now.”
Lyall could see Glenna’s unhappy reaction—her pale skin and tight lips and jaw. She did not like what she’d heard.
The woman’s wise dark gaze moved to him.
“Nor can I mend yer troubles, my lord. Ye will find that prize which ye seek and all that goes with it…that which foolish men believe they want, what drives them to do what they will. But understand and trust me when I say to ye both… there are far too many lies inside this room.” And she left them alone.
The room grew heavy with their silence and the strange and unsettling truth in the old woman’s words.
After another tense moment Glenna turned around and laughed bitterly.
“Foolish woman and her predictions. Druid? Bah! Lies? Aye, there are too many lies. After yesterday, I’ve had my fill of lies.
” She marched toward the doorway. “I’m going to the stables.
I need to check on the animals.” And she closed the doors without looking back.
He did not try to stop her, but what Gladdys had said cut to the quick…not about lies, but about truths, and soon he, too, got up and left.