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“Unless she’s already met up with her cohorts,” Tarass said. “She couldn’t possibly have done this on her own. There has to be others.”
“True, though the tracks were fresh which means she hadn’t left too long ago and you could reach her before she reaches the other culprits,” Slatter said.
Both men turned when Rannock and Nettle entered the Great Hall, their cheeks flushed from the cold or at least that’s what Tarass surmised, not so Slatter.
“I’d say they got to know each other much better,” Slatter said with a chuckle.
“Nettle, where is Lady Snow?” Tarass called out, concerned he hadn’t seen his wife since this morning when she went with Willow to talk with Runa, and it was now mid-day.
“She hasn’t returned from her visit with Runa yet?’ Nettle asked with concern.
“That seems long for the two to be gone,” Slatter said, getting to his feet.
Tarass stood as well.
Rannock and Nettle turned and headed for the door when it burst opened and the young lad, Roy, rushed in.
“Hurry! Hurry, my lord, there’s something wrong at the healer’s cottage!”
“She’s coming around. Force her to take it now, before she has the strength to fight you.”
Snow heard the man’s voice, but her head was too fuzzy to understand until someone pressed down on her shoulders, keeping her from moving, and hands were at her mouth, forcing it open, then something was poured down her throat. She tried to spit it out but more of the liquid was forced down her throat. When they finally released her, she turned on her side on the snow-covered ground and pretended to cry in between sticking her finger in her mouth to rid herself of whatever they had forced on her.
“How long?” the man with the commanding voice asked.
“Not too long after his arrival. Keep him talking, but then there is much you have to say to him. I will let you know when the time is right.”
Snow recognized that voice. It was Fasta.
She quickly covered what had come out of her stomach with snow so that no one could see what she had done. She knew she hadn’t gotten all of it. But she prayed she had gotten enough so that it wouldn’t do her or the bairn harm.
She rolled on her other side, whimpering so that they thought her weak, and scooped up some snow to rub on her face and to help clear the sleep that lingered in her.
Not too long after his arrival.
They had to have been talking about her husband.
Tarass would come for her. He would rescue her like he always did.
Snow only hoped that if what they had forced down her throat was meant to kill her, that she wouldn’t die before she had a chance to tell her husband she loved him one last time.
Tarass sped through the village, Slatter following not far behind.
Tarass was the first to enter the cottage. Helga was there, her eyes filled with fright.
“I found them like this,” Helga said, a tremble in her voice.
Both Willow and Runa lay on the earth-floor, but Snow was nowhere to be seen.
“Willow!” Slatter called out when he saw his wife crumpled on the floor. He lifted her gently and sat on one of the chairs to cradle her in his arms. Fury raced through him when he saw the lump on the side of her head. Someone had hit her, knocking her out.
Fear at not seeing his wife had Tarass wanted to run out and search for her, but that wouldn’t be wise. He needed to keep his head about him no matter how much fear threatened him.
He turned to see Rannock standing at the open door. “Send the trackers and a group of warriors to follow them, and find where the tracks lead.”
Rannock nodded and hurried out, Helga following after him.
Tarass quickly looked around and saw Thaw laying on his side by the hearth. He went to the pup and shook him. He didn’t move but was grateful the pup was still breathing.
He turned to Slatter. “Willow still breathes?”
“Aye, she does,” Slatter said, relieved and began to tap gently at his wife’s face. “Wake up, Willow. I need you to wake up. You must wake up.”
Tarass went to Runa and gently turned her on her back to see that the side of her head was bleeding. He lifted her and he was relieved to hear her moan. He needed one of them to wake and tell him what happened and who had taken his wife. He laid her on the bed and turned to see Nettle enter the cottage, look about, then grab a bucket and run out to return moments later with the bucket filled with snow.
She took it to Slatter. “This should help wake her.”
Slatter scooped up a handful of snow and laid it against his wife’s face and on the bump that was beginning to bruise.
