“I care not,” Tarr spat. “He attacked my clan and suffers his own consequences.”
“I cannot just let him die when I have the skill to help him.”
“You would heal him so that I could hang him?”
“I would heal him and hope that you would have mercy and bring a senseless feud to an end.”
“Feud? I fight to protect what is mine,” Tarr said angrily.
“And he?” Aliss snapped. “Does he not do the same?”
“He is my enemy.”
“He is not my enemy,” she said firmly, and dropped to the ground to tend the unconscious man.
“We leave as soon as I see to my men. If Raynor cannot travel he remains behind to rot.” Tarr marched off, his warriors following.
Aliss’s attention remained on Raynor while she addressed her sister. “You know what to do.”
“I will see to it,” Fiona said, and with speed and skill born of experience she fashioned a hauler out of tree branches, grass, and moss and hooked it to her saddle with thick vines.
Aliss continued working on Raynor who remained unconscious.
“How bad is he?” Fiona asked.
“I am not certain. He suffered a wound to the head, which I have stitched, though much too swiftly. The rest of the blood on him is not his. I have cleansed what I could with what little water I have. I do not know if a fever will claim him before he wakes or if he will ever wake again.”
“You did what you could.”
“I will do more once we arrive at Tarr’s keep.”
“If he allows you,” Fiona reminded.
Aliss’s head shot up, her green eyes defiant. “I will see to his care regardless of Tarr of Hellewyk.”
“I doubt any one of Tarr’s men will lift a finger to help their enemy.”
“It matters not. You and I have moved a larger man.”
Fiona did not argue or object for in fact the man they had moved had been their ill father. With a blanket and much sweat and tears, they had gotten their father onto a bed they had fashioned on the floor in front of the hearth, and Aliss had made her first attempt at healing.
Raynor nearly matched Tarr’s height and though slimmer, his body was dense with muscle. His features were hard to distinguish from the blood that covered his face from his head wound. Aliss had cleaned him off as much as she could but much blood remained and was beginning to crust around his eyes, nose, and mouth. It would take a patient cleansing before he would be able to open his eyes, but that was the least of his worry.
Few survived a severe head injury, and the bumpy journey and a damp, dark cell would not help his recovery.
Aliss covered Raynor with her own blanket and had him ready to go before Tarr was prepared to depart.
“Tarr does not look happy,” Fiona warned as she watched him approach.
Aliss had just finished securing her healing pouch to her mare and turned to Tarr glaring down at her from his saddle. She glared back.
He looked from one twin to the other. “Hear me well, for my word is law. Raynor sealed his fate when he attacked my land. You attempt to heal a dead man.”
Tarr rode off with a loud snort from his horse punctuating his departure.
Aliss mounted her mare. “He has no heart and soul. It is good you will not wed him.”
“He is a stubborn one,” Fiona said as they slowly joined the procession of warriors, though this time they were left to follow.
Aliss groaned. “Do not tell me that now you find him appealing?”
“I find him interesting.”
“Nay, you find him a challenge.”
“A man should be a challenge,” Fiona insisted. “I could not abide a spineless man, one who would find my strength intimidating.”
“Tarr is more than a challenge.”
Fiona grinned like a child with a naughty secret. “I know.”
Chapter 4
Tarr arrived home to discover no damage to his keep and no clansmen hurt. He immediately questioned the validity of the message that had been delivered to him. If Raynor had attacked his land why was there no evidence of it? He intended to have answers, though first he had prisoners to see to, three including Raynor. The other two prisoners had suffered leg injuries and had not been able to flee. They would heal and more than likely, he would allow them to return home. Raynor was a different matter.
A celebratory atmosphere filled the air as clansmen and women greeted the returning victorious warriors. Wives