“The woman will want to see him, sore hurt as he is. She will be going out of her mind wi’ worry. Think if it were Conall.”
“He is no’ Conall. He killed Conall.”
“Just go.”
Flanna went out. Whether she would obey or run back away to her friend, Liadan could not say.
Time passed. A scuttle came at the doorpost.
Maeve stood there, her shawl held up over her hair, face drawn. Her eyes searched Liadan’s face piteously.
“He is here? How bad is he?”
“’Tis hard to tell.” Liadan hesitated. “He called for ye. In his sleep.”
Maeve clasped Liadan’s wrist. “’Tis kind of ye to bring me.”
“No kindness. I ha’ my mam to care for. If ye tend him—”
“Aye, to be sure.”
Maeve went away into Liadan’s sleeping place. She had brought a basket of bandages, and began at once speaking to her son. Crooning to him. “I am here, lamb. Rest easy now.”
Lamb?If Liadan could believe the little bit she’d absorbed of Cullan’s blather, the man had turned the battle single-handed.
But, ah, did she care what his mother said to him? With Maeve here, the burden was lifted from her own shoulders.
Mam surfaced from the doze, focused on Liadan, and asked where she was. She seemed so much more clearheaded that hope stirred in Liadan’s heart. If Mam recovered, she would not be alone in this misery.
Soon Mam fell into what seemed a restful sleep. Not long after, Liadan heard the rumble of a male voice next door. She went and hovered at the doorway. Aye, Ardahl had come awake. He half sat up, his mam bent over him. Both of them turned eyes identical in color toward Liadan.
“Ah, ye be better.” Not waiting for an answer from Ardahl, Liadan hurried on, “Mistress MacCormac, is there aught ye need?”
“Nay. I ha’ all I need.”
Liadan quickly moved away and set about preparing a meal. Maeve would want to eat. So, presumably, would the recovering warrior.
When thearansat browned on the stone beside the fire, she called Maeve.
“Will ye take your son something to eat? There is broth and bread.”
“Thank ye.”
“How is he?” Liadan did not want to ask. Then again, she wanted to know.
Maeve pushed tumbled hair away from a face white with strain. “My son is strong. If none o’ the wounds take poisoning, he will recover.”
Just as she had thought. Was it good news, or bad? Not able to decide, Liadan just nodded.
“Thank you for sending for me. I needed to see him.”
“Aye.”
“I should go soon.”
“Nay, do not.” Liadan did not wish to be alone with her two patients.
“I do not know if I am allowed to be here.”
