The rain beganlate in the afternoon and added to the gloom that filled the small hut. Liadan, trying desperately to keep her mam calm without dosing her to oblivion, at last sent Flanna off the visit her good friend, Lasair, only to give the lass a measure of peace she could not afford herself.
The two lasses were good friends and spent much of their time together at one home or the other. Liadan hoped Lasair’s mam would see fit to keep Flanna for a time.
As soon as the young girl left, she ran for the healer and brought him back with her.
“I cannot keep her quiet,” she confessed in a hush, just inside the door.
“Not even with the draught?”
“Save with the draught.”
Dathi lifted a brow at her.
“I do no’ wish to keep her dosed all the time. The draught sends her to a deep sleep.”
“Where she needs to be. She is grieving.” Dathi gave a sigh. “Let me speak with her.”
He entered Conall’s sleeping place, which Mam refused to leave. Liadan stood wringing her hands, hearing his soft, patient voice interrupt Mam’s weary sobs.
She wished she could be that patient, but she did not have it in her. She felt burned to the bone and had not had a chanceherself to weep for her brother, to throw herself down and sob for the sheer hurt of it till she could weep no more.
Even Dathi’s quiet words, however, did not succeed in soothing Mam. He soon slipped back out, a concerned frown furrowing his brow.
“She is, aye, distraught. I suggest dosing her until her grief eases, as it will do in sleep.”
Aye, and mayhap the healer knew best. Perhaps sleep was the refuge Mam needed.
But with Conall gone, with Mam lost to sleep and Flanna taking comfort elsewhere, whom did Liadan have?
The answer came soon enough after the healer, having administered his dose, left.
He called softly from outside the door, his voice deeper than the pelt of the rain, and when she went there, he asked, “Mistress, might I come in?”
She could scarcely leave him outside in such a downpour even if she wanted to.
“Aye.”
He came with his head bent, shedding water, and with Conall’s sword in his hand. She saw right off he had a number of scrapes and abrasions, and that his tunic had torn. She did not comment.
“How is your lady mother?”
She did not want to answer him. The serpent, pretending concern. Her words came bitter. “I have just had the healer. She will no’ stop with grieving. I have sent Flanna away—for some relief.”
“I am sorry.”
So he should be.
He lowered himself to the floor just inside the door. As near to outside as he could get.
Liadan cast him a look. “Come closer to the fire. Warm yourself. I do not need an ailing man on top of a grieving woman.”
He came and sat beside the hearth, still saying nothing. Stretched his hands out to the warmth. She saw that they trembled ever so slightly.
What must this be like for him? She did not care.Serpent.
Silence reigned for many long moments. The draught having taken swift effect, Mam at last eased to silence on Conall’s bed.
“What happened to ye?” Liadan asked at length, and nodded at the scrapes.
