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)
Hertha brushed away a tear. “I will see you stay well for a long time to come.” She took the healing pouch from her waist and began to prepare a brew.
“Someone wishes ill will on this clan,” Greta said.
“Aye,” Bhric agreed. “And I intend to find out who and why.”
Tavia walked with Hume through the village, her husband walking with Sven not far behind her. The brew Hertha had fixed helped almost as soon as Ingrid drank it. She now slept peacefully, the bairn still active in her stomach to Sven’s relief.
Bhric had refused to allow her to speak with Hume alone, not that his concern was with Hume, it was with talk that was growing that Ingrid’s illness was Tavia’s doing. There was talk that Ingrid did not want Marta sent home that she wanted the woman’s help with the bairn once he was born. Many believed Tavia thought otherwise and was angry with Ingrid for even thinking of it.
She did her best to ignore the stares and whispers, but it was difficult. She was glad not only for her husband’s presence but for Fen’s as well, including his snarl that warned people away.
“You say there are various herbs or plants that can purge the stomach,” Tavia asked to make sure she heard him correctly, her mind far too troubled by the accusing faces that followed her through the village.
“Aye, but the person would need to be familiar with such properties and how to use them,” Hume said. “And it would be difficult to acquire them with winter upon us unless, of course, a person already possessed them.”
“You and Hertha are in possession of such plants?” Tavia asked.
“Of course,” Hume said with a nod. “Sometimes purging is necessary. Greta has her share of purging mixtures as well. Though after examining some of them, I believe ours are more potent.”
“The mixture used on Ingrid?”
“Potent,” Hume said, shaking his head. “They will blame Hertha. She will not be safe. None of us from Clan Strathearn are safe here.”
Tavia wanted to deny that, but she feared Hume might be right and she blamed herself for that.
Bhric was by her side, his arm hooking with hers as soon as Hume stepped away eager to return to Hertha.
“Lord Ivan is right evil is here among us, husband,” Tavia said as they headed to the keep.
“Most hearing that would believe you agreed with him about the witch and her evil ways,” Bhric said. “But since I know you do not believe Fia evil, then it is another evil you speak of, is it not?”
“Aye, it is, and I would not be surprised if you thought the same.”
“You make a good counsel, wife, since we think alike,” Bhric said and hugged her against him.
“Evil arrived with Lord Ivan,” Tavia said, keeping her voice low.
“I do not think it has to do with revenge, and the witch, Fia, is simply a pawn in his plan. There is more to it than we can see, and we need to find out what it is before he does damage that cannot be repaired.”
CHAPTER 26
Tavia laid in bed the next morning willing her stomach to remain calm, then her husband’s arm found its way over her, and she cringed. “Do not touch me!”
Bhric pulled his arm away worried, his wife never having denied his touch. “What’s wrong?”
“My stomach is calm, and I am giving it no reason to do otherwise, so I am remaining still,” she cautioned.
He rose to lean his head on his bended arm and look down at her stretched out stiff beside him. “I do not like that the bairn prevents me from touching you when we wake. It is something I look forward to and enjoy. But I also do not want to see you suffer each morning.”
“You are more certain than I am that I am with child,” Tavia said, stroking her stomach gently.
“I am the oldest of my siblings, so I recall seeing my mother ill some mornings and my father hugging her and declaring that his seed took root quickly. My seed seems to be as potent as my father’s,” Bhric said with pride and saw his wife pale.
He was off the bed in a flash, grabbed the bucket, and was back to sit her up before she began to retch.
“This is not pleasant,” Tavia said when it finally passed, and she lay with a cool cloth on her brow.
“My mother’s morning illness did not last long, hopefully yours won’t either,” he said, hoping he offered encouraging words.
A thought crossed Tavia’s mind, but she said nothing to her husband, not knowing if it would prove helpful or perhaps worried what may come of it. It was something she would have to do on her own.
“One can only pray,” she said. “I am glad Ingrid retched for only a short time and she now does well and that no one else has turned ill.”