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Marsh did not take well to the order and reminded, “You said I was to tend the wound.”
“You question my command?” Varrick snapped, a spark of anger in his eyes.
“Never, my lord, never would I disrespect you,” Marsh said and moved his hands away from the arrow.
Fia not only examined the arrow, but also saw how Willard stiffened and no doubt it was from fear of her. That was not good when tending to someone, for fear often hampered healing.
She kept her voice soft and her smile gentle in hopes it would alleviate the young warrior’s fear of her. “The arrow has nothing but blood on it which means it did not do as much damage inside your calf as it could have.”
“Then I’ll snap it off and pull it out and he will be fine,” Marsh said impatiently.
Fia pointed to a spot. “It must be broken off here.”
“Nonsense,” Marsh said and went to reach for the spot he intended to snap.
Fia’s hand shot up, stopping him. “Look closer at the shaft of the arrow.” She pointed, ignoring the anger on Marsh’s face. “Do you see those silvers of wood not yet broken completely off the shaft? If you break the shaft there, those silvers will embed themselves inside his leg and could turn the wound putrid. That may eventually cause him to lose his leg or his life.”
Marsh looked closer to where she pointed. “This arrow has been used too often that is why that happens.”
“I had wondered over that,” Fia said. “Thank you for sharing that knowledge.”
A puzzling look crossed Marsh’s face, then it turned to a scowl, and he went to speak, but Willard spoke first.
“Please do as Lady Fia says. I do not want to lose my leg or my life.”
Before the matter could be discussed any further, Marsh snapped the arrow in the spot Fia had recommended and yanked it through the calf.
Willard let loose with a painful shout, squeezing his eyes tightly as he did.
Fia stopped Marsh again when he went to wrap the wound. “That cloth is not clean enough.”
Varrick watched the entire exchange between his wife and Marsh. She showed not a bit of anger, unlike Marsh who wore his for all to see. She spoke calmly and explained why the wound should be handled a particular way, and all the while, Willard had listened, and he could see that the young warrior paid more heed to Fia than to Marsh.
He caught his smile before it could surface when he saw Marsh grumble as he stood after Willard asked Fia to finish tending his wound. His captured smile sank when Marsh stopped beside him.
“Be careful, my lord, she works her wiles with kindness and will soon have everyone in her evil clutches. What then will happen to the clan?”
Varrick had considered that when he had realized the only solution to his problem was to find a witch to combat it. He and his men had traveled to foreign lands for a few missions, and he had seen what powerful witches could do and how some had suffered for it. While other witches were revered and treated well, though kept at a distance. He was well aware of the chance he took but it had been necessary.
He also was aware that Marsh was right. He had to be careful. He had to make certain he had found a witch and not an innocent woman, for if she was, then he may have, like it or not, just found himself a wife.
CHAPTER9
Varrick was relieved when they reached home and annoyed as well since it had taken two days more than he had planned. Of course, he had not planned to pick up strays along the way. At least they had been lucky that snowfall had remained light, though the bleak sky that had followed them and the sudden bite in the air today warned of change.
He had seen the relief on his warriors’ faces when the fortress had come into view, whereas his wife’s face had gone from questionable to curious. He wondered what she thought of her new home, as temporary as it might be. It either impressed or frightened those who saw it for the first time. He waited for her to remark but was met with silence. It wasn’t until they drew closer that his wife finally spoke.
“What are you so afraid of that you imprison your clan?”
Anger sparked in him at her unexpected remark. “I protect. I do not imprison.”
“From what? The beautiful forest that surrounds you?” She stared ahead, her eyes wide. “Your keep looms large enough over the area to alert you to an approaching troop. Anyone would be foolish to attempt to attack you since you would see them long before they reached here.” She tilted her head up at him. “What is it you fear?”
He locked his eyes with hers. “I told you. I fear nothing.”
Perhaps he didn’t but his warriors feared something. Fia had not only seen them tense, but felt it, and their eyes roamed anxiously when they had entered a particular section of the forest. Fear lurked in them, but why?
Fia remained silent, thinking it wiser that she observed rather than speak, and her husband must have agreed for he did not say another word as they made their way to the tall, wide wood door in a portion of the stone wall. He kept her tucked snug against him, and his cloak wrapped around them both, keeping her well-protected against the cold.
