It did not work and finally she decided her best course of action was to satisfy her irrationality and return home.
Aliss turned, and staring at her through a grove of trees was a pair of brilliant green eyes.
Rogan listened to the two squabbling women from his perch atop the long table that sat in front of the cold fireplace in the great hall. The two were bickering over the ownership of a fine piece of a recently woven plaid.
He knew it was an important matter for both women, but he would have much preferred to be with Aliss. Last night he had realized that he loved his wife even more than he thought possible and he knew she loved him. He hoped soon, very soon, he would hear her say “I love you” to him as easily as he said it to her.
For now his attention was needed here in the hall, but as soon as he finished he intended to return to Aliss and whisk her away to a very special place, and share a part of his past with her.
Both women claimed their skilled hands had weaved the cloth, and they expected him to settle the dispute. But it was impossible to settle. He would have to designate one of them as the better weaver and thereby animosity would grow between friends.
“Let me see the cloth,” Rogan said.
John handed it to him while the two women looked on and several other women watched from the surrounding tables. No men took interest in the debate, though Raynor had wandered in and sat to the side watching with interest.
Rogan weighed the cloth in his hand and saw that it was a fine weave made by skilled hands. He also knew that one of the women would suffer because of his verdict. He gave it thought, studying the cloth, bringing it up to examine it closely.
“You both claim to have weaved this, you say?”
Both women nodded and affirmed, “Yes!”
“There is a knot here in the weave.”
Both women stepped forward and stopped when Rogan turned the cloth over and back again.
“A loose weave in spots,” he said, once again bringing it up for a closer look.
One woman took a step back.
The other noticed and joined her.
“This looks to be the work of a beginner,” he said.
Both women gasped at the insult.
“You both teach the young ones to weave, do you not?”
“Yes, yes, we do,” said one.
“Could you have made a mistake and this cloth may be the work of one of the young women you have taught?” he asked.
“I think he is right, Agnes,” one said.
“I believe you are right, Cara,” the other agreed.
“The cloth?” he asked, holding it out to them.
“Keep it,” both said, and turned and walked off together.
The other women followed, smiling broadly. There would be no hard feelings this day.
Raynor walked over to him, shaking his head. “You handled that well.”
“What choice did I have?” Rogan asked with a laugh. “The other women would have had my head if I had caused a rift between the two women who weaved the cloth for the clan.”
Raynor grinned and slapped him on the back. “Your meals may have also suffered. I spied one of the women who cook for you lurking in the shadows.”
Rogan gave a quick glance around the hall.
“Don’t worry, she left with a smile.”
“I tell you, settling disputes between women is worse than going into battle without a weapon,” Rogan said.
“Amen to that.”
“Did something bring you to the hall?” Rogan asked. “Since I do not think a woman’s quarrel would bring you here.”
“I wondered if Giann was visiting you. She visits with my family on occasion and I thought I saw her wandering the woods,” Raynor said.
“She has made her presence known.”
“Does she intend to speak with Aliss?”
“She has not made mention of it,” Rogan said. “Why?”
“I saw Aliss walk into the woods and wondered.”
“Wondered what?”
“If Giann had summoned her?”
Aliss stood perfectly still, not sure who the glaring green eyes belonged to, animal or human. Her urge to flee dissipated and her heartbeat calmed. She instinctively realized she had nothing to fear, though much to say.
“I am glad we finally meet.”
Aliss stared as sunlight spotlighted the woman who emerged from the woods, the cloud having drifted away from the sun. She was stunning, with blond hair and green eyes that claimed the color of the forest. Her garments blended with nature’s own colors so that her tall, graceful body could move within the woods undetected. She carried a gnarled walking stick that was topped with a claw that held a clear stone.
“You are Giann,” Aliss said.
“And you are Aliss, one of the twins.”
She drifted closer to Aliss, and that is exactly how it appeared—as if she drifted, not walked, toward her.