The Betrayal - By Ruth Langan Page 0,21
flame. Twice she tried to dart into the fire, only to be driven back. In desperation she drew her cloak firmly around her head and face until all but her eyes were covered. Then she forced her way past the falling timbers into the very heart of the blaze, where Grant was holding the body of a man in his arms. Behind him was a woman holding an infant, while a terrified toddler clung to her skirts.
Seeing Kylia, Grant shouted, “Lead them out of here. Quickly, for the last of the timbers will soon collapse.”
Ignoring the fire that licked along her skirts, Kylia draped her cloak around the woman’s shoulders before scooping up the child. When she realized that the woman was too terrified to move, she caught her hand and dragged her along, step by slow, painful step, until they had escaped the wall of flame. They dropped to their knees, choking and gasping for air.
There was a great roar as the cottage exploded, the walls collapsing inward, sending flames shooting high in the air. For the space of a heartbeat Kylia watched in horror, knowing no one could survive such a thing. A feeling of immense sadness stole over her. She’d saved strangers, but couldn’t save the man whose image had been with her since childhood.
As the flames and smoke billowed skyward, she caught sight of two figures lying in the grass on the far side of the cottage. With a cry she stumbled toward them and dropped to her knees beside Grant.
His skin was black from soot and ash. His clothes still smoldered as he coughed and struggled for breath.
“Praise heaven you’re alive.” Kylia touched a hand to his cheek.
Between coughs he managed to whisper, “See to him.”
The stranger’s arms were badly burned, as was his face. What worried Kylia more than his burns were the wounds to his neck and chest, bleeding profusely.
As she began stripping away his tunic, the woman approached and fell to the grass weeping. “Oh, my beloved Ewald. Please don’t leave me.”
Kylia touched a hand to her sleeve. “Not all these wounds were caused by the fire.”
The woman shook her head. “The thieves forced their way into our cottage. While I did my best to protect the wee ones, Ewald defended himself with nothing but his fists. Those monsters left him to die, then set fire to the roof before turning to our flock.”
At her husband’s moan, she turned pleading eyes to Kylia. “Please, my lady. Can you ease his pain?”
Kylia felt a wave of frustration at her inadequacy. If only Allegra were here. Her older sister would know exactly what to do. She was about to explain that she knew little about healing burns when she caught sight of the child’s tears. They touched her as nothing else could. This was no time to be faint of heart.
She gave a sigh. “I’ll do what I can. I’ll need water.”
At once the woman dashed toward a nearby stream, returning with a brimming bucket.
After bathing the stranger’s wounds, Kylia soaked a cloth in the water and lay it over his charred flesh.
The woman carried a blackened jug from the smoldering ruins and set it beside Kylia. At her questioning look the woman explained, “Spirits, my lady. My man rarely drank, so the jug is full. You might use this to cleanse his wounds.”
“Aye.” Kylia poured a liberal amount of whiskey over the wounds, and proceeded to bind them. When she had finished, she wrapped him in her traveling cloak.
She looked up to see Grant returning from the stream, where he’d bathed his burned flesh. Though she could read the pain in his eyes, he made no mention of it as he began cleaning several fish he’d caught.
When the meal was ready he passed it around, seeing that the woman and her children ate their fill.
As if in a trance the woman ate, all the while staring at her sleeping husband. “What will we do if the thieves return?”
Grant knelt beside her. “Have you no clan? No family or friends nearby?”
She shook her head. “Our families live in the village. We came to this far meadow because it seemed a fine place to raise our family and tend our herds. But now that the thieves know we are helpless, they’ll wait until you leave and attack again. Next time, they’ll see we are dead so they can steal the entire flock.”
Grant knew the truth of her statement. Though it grieved him to put off