Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Can you stitch it?” Tavia asked.
“It will take a multitude of stitches and an experienced hand,” Hertha said, “and much healing time without any promise that…”
Tavia knew what Hertha left unsaid… without any promise that Lath would survive.
“I beg you, my lady,” Lath said, grabbing hold of her hand. “I would rather die than lose my leg.”
A memory gripped Tavia, her da shouting, “You will not cut off her leg You will heal it.”
Tavia squeezed Lath’s hand tight. “We will not cut off your leg.”
“Your leg will come off! And let go of my wife’s hand!”
Tavia looked up to see her husband standing over them, a stern and determined look in his eyes.
Lath released her hand mumbling apologies while keeping a pleading eye on Tavia.
She stood. “We can save his leg.”
“We?” Bhric asked.
Hertha stood then. “Lady Tavia is an exceptionally skilled stitcher. Her talent is needed to sew the wound closed.”
“Impossible,” Greta said, shaking her head. The leg is too damaged. It is beyond repair. Besides, either way he will die.”
“Then what difference does it make if we try?” Tavia asked, her eyes on her husband.
“Hertha will stitch his leg,” Bhric ordered.
“She is not skilled enough. I will do it,” Tavia said.
“I forbid it,” Bhric commanded.
Tavia’s chin went up and her courage came from deep down inside. “I am a Highland woman and I stand with my Highland brethren. I will do what I must to save them as you would with your Northmen tribe. You have a foot in both worlds. Will you stand this time with your Highland brethren?”
A tremendous roar went up from those in Clan MacShane, chests expanded, voices rang strong, even Lath managed to join in as painful as it was. Highland pride was heard and felt, not so the Northmen, anger sparked in their eyes.
Tavia worried that once again she had spoken without thought and may have overstepped her bounds. But the words had been spoken and could not be taken back. Besides, her husband had Highland blood running through him and his people here needed to know he was one of them.
Bhric kept a scowl on his wife. She set forth a challenge and a difficult one at that. He could not lose face in front of his tribesmen, yet he also could not alienate his Highland brethren, either way the consequences of his actions could cause strife.
Tavia could see that she had placed her husband in a difficult position, something she had not meant to do, and would not bode well for her. Words came quick and unexpected as they had done of late and she wondered if it was from having gotten to know Lady Dawn and her cousin Flora, both women confident in strength and courage that had her speaking up when normally her tongue would remain silent.
“I will obey your word, my lord,” Tavia said with a respectful bow of her head. “But I beg of you to please allow me to help my brethren.”
She kept her eyes on her husband and, therefore, did not see the swell of pride on the faces of the clan members that she should beg for one of them, but Bhric saw it. And bloody hell if he did not admire the bravery it had taken her to do so. Was there more to his petite wife than he first believed?
“Greta says either way he will die, so I will allow you to try while we prepare a grave for him,” Bhric said, appeasing his wife and his tribesmen who believed Greta knew better.
“Thank you, my lord,” Tavia said with a slight bob of her head.
Clansmen stepped forward ready to move Lath.
Tavia looked to her husband. “An empty cottage, my lord?”
He nodded and looked to Marta. “Take him to one closest to Hertha and Hume’s cottage.
After nodding to Lord Bhric, Marta looked to the men. “Follow me.”
Tavia took hold of Lath’s hand. “Stay strong.”
“Your courage gives me courage,” Lath said, and their hands parted as one of the men handed him a stick to bite down on to keep him from crying out as they lifted him.
Bhric walked over to his wife and kept his voice low for her ears alone. “Never challenge me again.”
“Even if you need to be challenged.” Again, the words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them. She shook her head. “Forgive me, my lord, you were gracious enough to grant my request. I mean no disrespect, but you are not only a Northman but a Highlander as well. If you wish to succeed here, have your heirs accepted and respected, then you and your fellow tribesmen need to become part of this clan and not simply rule over it.”
She offered sage advice and that she did, annoyed him. But didn’t he want a wife that could help guide him when necessary? A wife who would speak up to him without fear as his mother did with his father.