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Fia struggled to get to her feet, the thought of the bairn so small inside her, no more than a freshly planted seed that had yet to see much growth but would if tended properly, giving her the strength to stand.
“Walk,” Abbott John said and gave her a shove.
He almost sent her tumbling, but she managed to catch her steps and keep herself steady, the dizziness beginning to fade. She cast a quick glance at his wounded shoulder, his cloak coated with blood in that spot.
“You will not last long having lost so much blood,” she warned.
“I have survived the God of Death many times and I will do so again. It is you he comes for today, but you will not be as lucky as your grandmother, who he swept away before we barely laid a knife to her. You will suffer what was meant for her.”
Did she hear him right?
“You killed my grandmother?” Fia asked, recalling that dreadful day she had discovered the remains of her grandmother in the woods and for the first time in her life wanting to kill rather than heal.
“Nay, I found her for him, not an easy task, but I was not the one who took the knife to her,” Abbott John said. “I thought we hunted her for being a powerful witch. But that was not why he hired warrior monks to hunt her. It was the secret she kept that he wanted.”
Fia tried to make sense of the shocking news that her grandmother’s killers had not come upon her by accident but had hunted and killed her for a secret she had kept. What secret could be worth her life?
Her grandmother taught her that a healer often heard secrets, mostly on deathbeds, and out of respect for the dying, and often for the safety of the healer, the secrets were kept. Whatever secret the person had wanted from her grandmother, she had taken to her grave.
Fia.
It was faint but she heard Varrick reach out to her. She recalled reaching out to him before she surrendered to the darkness. Had it been strong enough for him to hear her? She should have reached out to him when she first woke but her head throbbed so badly, and her mind was so cloudy that she had barely been able to think straight and after hearing about her grandmother, that was all she could think about.
Her head continued to hurt, and she worried she was not strong enough for him to hear her, but she tried.
Varrick.
CHAPTER29
Varrick searched the village for his wife after he reached out and she failed to answer him. The longer he received no response, the more he feared something was dreadfully wrong. The only reason she would not answer him was because she was unable to and the only way that could be possible was if she was unconscious or dead.
He was frantic to find her, calling out her name silently, waiting anxiously for her to answer him and hearing nothing squeezed at his heart. Where was she? What happened to her? He had gone to her healing cottage, but found nothing and so he searched, calling out to her again and again.
Varrick.
He stopped and listened, having barely heard her, her voice was so weak. When he heard nothing but silence, he called out to her.Fia! Fia!
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. He continued to search for her, word spreading fast that she was missing, easy enough to happen during the chaos of battle. Was the battle meant to divert his attention? Had his wife been the target all along? Or was she being used to get to him?
Frustrated, he shouted in his mind.Fia!
Varrick.
He stopped, hearing barely a whisper, and questioned whether he had heard her or imagined it. He listened for more.
Varrick.
Again faint. She had to have been hurt if she was having difficulty reaching out to him, but at least she heard him. He kept his response to a simple aye or nay.
Are you here on the castle grounds somewhere?
Nay.
Her response was a bit stronger but not much and he hurried to ask…Someone abducted you?
Two.
He feared asking…are you hurt.
