Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
The red blotches merged as one, making his entire face blossom red and he turned his horse around, anxious to take his leave.
“Lord David!” Varrick shouted and the man turned his head. “I will not forget the harm you caused one of my warriors.”
“I will not forget this day either, Lord Varrick.” Lord David went to raise his hand, a signal to his waiting warriors when he spotted more of Lord Varrick’s warriors had corralled all his warriors and was herding them toward him. “You will rue this day,” he shouted.
“I think not,” Varrick called out. “And if you attempt to pull anything so foolish again, I will not hesitate to make certain you and your warriors are left dead, food for the forest animals.”
Some of Lord David’s warriors shuddered and every one of them turned when Varrick signaled his men to release them, and they could not run away fast enough.
Varrick’s warriors followed the retreating warriors to make certain they were well on their way while others searched the surrounding area to make sure no opposing warriors lingered behind.
Varrick, seeing his men do as was expected, turned to Fia, and felt his gut tighten, seeing gentleness in her beauty. Was it real or a spell?
“So, you lie when it serves a purpose,” he accused, reminding her of what she had once said to him.
“I do not lie. You care because you need something from me,” she said, having thought on what Dysa had said and realized that he cared for her in a far different way than a man usually does for a woman.
She was right. He had to make certain to keep her safe if she was to be of any help to him. Again, she spoke the truth to him, though more pointed out the obvious. Or was it her knowing that kept her alert to things rather than knowledge?
“May I at least observe how Marsh tends Willard’s wound?” she asked, seeing him approach Willard.
“You have no confidence in Marsh?” Varrick asked, watching the way she glanced anxiously at Marsh.
“You cannot simply pluck an arrow out of someone. The arrow must be observed to see what it may have torn out and another concern is the wood may have splintered. If not done properly, a wound that should easily heal could just as easily kill.”
It annoyed him that she made sense, for he had seen too many warriors die on the battlefield from wounds that had seemed minor.
Varrick had not realized that he had kept hold of her hand but was glad he had since it made it easier just to tug her along as he headed for Willard.
Fia broke free of his hand when they drew near. “Do not break the arrow yet.” She rushed forward and dropped down beside Willard’s leg.
“Begone with you and let me be done with this,” Marsh demanded.
“You will wait, Marsh, and let her have a look,” Varrick ordered.
Marsh did not take well to the order and reminded, “You said I was to tend the wound.”
“You question my command?” Varrick snapped, a spark of anger in his eyes.
“Never, my lord, never would I disrespect you,” Marsh said and moved his hands away from the arrow.
Fia not only examined the arrow, but also saw how Willard stiffened and no doubt it was from fear of her. That was not good when tending to someone, for fear often hampered healing.
She kept her voice soft and her smile gentle in hopes it would alleviate the young warrior’s fear of her. “The arrow has nothing but blood on it which means it did not do as much damage inside your calf as it could have.”
“Then I’ll snap it off and pull it out and he will be fine,” Marsh said impatiently.
Fia pointed to a spot. “It must be broken off here.”
“Nonsense,” Marsh said and went to reach for the spot he intended to snap.
Fia’s hand shot up, stopping him. “Look closer at the shaft of the arrow.” She pointed, ignoring the anger on Marsh’s face. “Do you see those silvers of wood not yet broken completely off the shaft? If you break the shaft there, those silvers will embed themselves inside his leg and could turn the wound putrid. That may eventually cause him to lose his leg or his life.”
Marsh looked closer to where she pointed. “This arrow has been used too often that is why that happens.”
“I had wondered over that,” Fia said. “Thank you for sharing that knowledge.”
A puzzling look crossed Marsh’s face, then it turned to a scowl, and he went to speak, but Willard spoke first.
“Please do as Lady Fia says. I do not want to lose my leg or my life.”
Before the matter could be discussed any further, Marsh snapped the arrow in the spot Fia had recommended and yanked it through the calf.