“I would like Mistress Rhian to come wi’ me.”
Leith’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Rory turned to Rhian. “Bring your healer’s supplies, if ye will. I wish ye to tend the prisoner.”
“Saerla?” Rhian whispered. “Wha’ ha’ ye done to her?”
Aye, they both thought him a monster.
“Naught. She took a blow to the head in yesterday morning’s battle.”
“And ye let her suffer so long?” Rhian cursed, turned away, and began collecting things from the chamber.
Rory’s gaze met Leith’s for an instant. Leith looked…not sympathetic, but Rory saw a guarded understanding.
“I will come.” Rhian stood before Rory, eyes ablaze. “Tak’ me to her.”
The reunion, as Rory acknowledged later, would have moved a stone. As soon as his chamber door opened, the two sisters flew at each other, meeting a few steps inside his door and embracing most fervently.
Rhian’s hands fluttered over her sister, patting and checking for wounds. When they found the crusted blood at the back of her wild head, she drew away and shot a glare at Rory that near pierced him.
“Beast!” she tossed at him before turning back to gaze into her sister’s face. “’Tis well now, Saerla. I am here. I am here.”
Neither woman wept. Watching them from the doorway, Rory figured them too strong for it. Too strong and too angry.
“Be ye hurt any place else, besides your head?”
“Nay. A few cuts, slashes to my fingers. Naught to signify.”
“I ha’ some supplies here.” Rhian turned again and spoke to Rory as she might a servant. “Bring hot water. Now.”
“I will go,” said Leith, who lurked in the hallway behind Rory.
“Ye may leave us also,” Rhian barked at Rory.
“I do no’ think so.”
“I wish to be alone wi’ my sister.”
Rory wondered if it was worth an argument. He did not back down from much in life, especially females.
Sometimes, however, it was wiser to retire from the field. He turned from the door of his bedchamber and went.
Chapter Thirteen
Few things hadever felt so good to Saerla as the refuge of Rhian’s arms. Comfort flowed from them and threatened to undo her hard-held resolve to remain strong. She would not weep.She would not.
She took deep breaths over Rhian’s shoulder as they clutched one another tight. “Och, I am that glad to see ye!”
“Has he hurt ye, the monster?” Rhian backed off just enough to gaze into Saerla’s eyes, her own blazing with protective rage.
Saerla had never seen her sister look like this. It both comforted her and brought an increased awareness of her predicament.
“Nay. He has no’ hurt me. But—” Saerla licked dry lips. “I fear he may.” Could she confide in Rhian now about what she’d Seen in the Vision that beset her? Dared she? Nay, for describing it might make it real.
“Rhian, I maun get awa’ from here.”Away from him.“Back to MacBeith. Is there aught ye can do to help me?”
“I ha’ been thinking about that. Moira will no’ stand for leaving ye captive here. Nor will Alasdair—”
