Aliss dusted her hands off, reminded of her duties as a healer to both clans. Besides, busy hands kept a mind occupied, and right now, she needed a reprieve from her troubled thoughts. “I will clean up while you go tell them all that I am ready to see them.”
“I will help,” Anna said.
“If you are busy, I can tend some of them.”
After seeing over a dozen ailing people with a dozen more waiting for her, Aliss was grateful that Anna had remained to assist her. The ailments and complaints were mostly minor and could easily be remedied, but it took until just before the evening meal to finish treating them all.
Fiona had stopped by to help but looked annoyed when she saw Anna and left with a frown. Aliss realized her sister felt as if she had been replaced. She had often assisted her when necessary. Aliss laughed as she recalled how William, one of the Hellewyk warriors Fiona had treated before, had commented that Anna had a gentler touch than Fiona. He had whispered it as if afraid Fiona would hear, though she had been nowhere in sight.
Yet she had seen that same man show respect and admiration for Fiona’s courage in fighting beside Tarr and his men in battle.
When she finally finished, she went in search of her sister. They needed to talk before they parted.
“Where are you going?” Rogan asked, startling her as she rushed out of the cottage.
“To see my sister.”
“I will wait to sup until you return.”
She nodded and hurried off, wondering if she had agreed out of habit. At the moment, spending any time with him rankled her. Her hurt was too new, too painful, and yet so was the thought of not seeing him. Lord, but love was difficult.
Fiona sat by a small fire, a rabbit on a spit cooked almost black.
“It is too close to the flame,” Aliss said, sitting down beside her.
“You were the one good at cooking, not me.”
“You were the one good at defending, not me.”
Fiona shrugged. “We balance each other. The young woman Anna is a good helper.”
“Not as good as my sister.”
Fiona turned and smiled. “You seem to have made a life here, to my surprise.”
“To my surprise as well,” Aliss confessed. “At first I was so very frightened, but I could hear you in my head guiding me, encouraging me, insisting I could survive until you came for me.”
“You never doubted I would come for you?”
“Never!”
“I really helped you?” Fiona asked.
“Endless times. I would hear you in my head especially when I was most frightened or when I questioned my own decisions.” She smiled. “I could hear you tell me that I should kiss Rogan if I were ever to know how I felt about him.”
“I guess the kiss worked. He does look after you,” Fiona admitted grudgingly. “I heard him talking to a woman about food for you when you finished with your healing.”
“You know me when I am healing. I do not think of sleep or food or anything.”
“Do you love Rogan?” Fiona asked.
Aliss gazed down at the flames searing the meat. “I don’t know. I thought I did; he was so kind and thoughtful. But now?”
Fiona reached for her sister’s hand. “What do you want?”
“I want to keep my bargain with my husband and see what comes of it.” She paused. Did she dare hope that he would prove his love? “And I want you to encourage my efforts to do so.”
“I want you to be happy and safe, though I wish the Isle of Non were closer than several hours away.”
“There will only be a distance between us if we let there be,” Aliss said.
Fiona squeezed her hand. “Then there will never be a distance between us.”
“Never,” Aliss agreed.
Fiona jumped then quickly placed Aliss’s hand on her stomach. “The babe is surely a warrior. He seems to forever battle in my stomach.”
They laughed and began to talk about the babe, the birth, and much more, while feasting on the burned rabbit. The sun had settled and the village had quieted when Aliss gave her sister a hug and returned to the cottage.
When she was a short distance away, she realized that Rogan waited supper for her. She had forgotten—or had she not wanted to return to the cottage?
It was difficult to continue as his wife when so much was uncertain. She would have preferred to be done with it all, and yet that would mean losing him, or would it? Did she actually harbor a spark of hope that the mighty warrior would battle to save their love?
She sighed, frustrated by the barrage of thoughts that refused to allow her some peace, and entered the cottage, stopping short when she heard voices. She proceeded down the hall to the end and turned, entering the room, surprised to see Tarr and Rogan sitting at the table.