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Artair turned wide eyes on her. I was teasing.
Zia gently squeezed his arm. So am I.
He shook his head. You could get into trouble if someone heard you.
Not here I wouldnt, but then none here would believe such nonsense. They would know it isnt our way.
But you do concoct potions.
To aid in healing. Thats what we do here"we heal.
Broken hearts need healing, he said with a smile.
They strolled off together arm in arm as they continued their conversation.
There is no potion to heal a broken heart. Only time will heal it.
True enough, he said sadly. I see how it has been for my mother since my father died. She tries to appear strong, but I know how much she misses him, and that she sheds tears more often than she lets anyone know.
Tears can be cathartic, and time will lessen her tears.
Artair guided her to a bench under a nearby tree, its huge branches providing a shady canopy. I know, but it still hurts me to see her suffer.
Perhaps she will find love again.
She will not, he said emphatically. She loved my father and will never love another.
Thats nonsense. I bet your father would want her to love again.
He would not.
I cant believe it, she said with a smile.
Believe it. My father would not want my mother to love again.
Zia shook her head. No, what I cant believe is that youre actually being unreasonable.
I am not, he said defensively.
Oh yes, you most certainly are. If your parents loved so strongly, then your father would not want to see your mother alone and mourning for the rest of her life. He would want her to be happy.
She has her sons and will soon have a grandchild, and more to come in the future.
Shes a woman with needs.
He bolted to his feet. Shes my mother.
Zia smiled up at him. Shes still a woman with needs, especially if she and your father"
Artairs hand shot up. Dont say another word. My mother has all that she needs.
Zia got up and entwined her arm with his. Ill have to speak to her about it when I meet her.
You most certainly will not.
Meet her or speak to her?
Artair shook his head, though he smiled. Perhaps I was too hasty in inviting you to my home.
Zia grinned. Too late! Ive already decided to return home with you.
Chapter 10.
Artair woke the next morning feeling refreshed and eager to return home. He hadnt been surprised, though he was relieved, that Zia had consented to return with him. At least he wouldnt be arriving completely empty-handed.
His family, Cavan in particular, would be pleased that he returned with a healer. Though their clan had women who helped heal, none could truly be called a healer. And his mother would surely be pleased, for she had done her share of healing over the years and often wished she had known more. She would be delighted to work with Zia, and that would keep her from feeling lonely.
Zia believed wrongly that his mother would even want to love again, let alone need to love. But she would see that for herself.
He sat up, stretching, and swung his legs off the bed. He was eager to make preparations to return home. He and Zia had spoken with Bethane last night at supper. He didnt want to just s.n.a.t.c.h Zia away from her. That wouldnt be right. Not after Bethane had been so kind to him.
The three agreed that within a weeks time, Zia and he would leave. He looked forward to their departure, though he had to admit that he enjoyed his time at the village and wouldnt mind returning now and again.
He stretched himself off the bed and slipped on his shirt and plaid and tied his sandals. He drew the curtain back and wasnt surprised to find Zias bed empty. He had thought he was an early riser, but Zia had him beat. She was always up before him. He usually caught up with her at breakfast. She always made a point of sharing the meal with her grandmother and he had grown accustomed to the same. He quite enjoyed it.
Morning greetings were called to him as he meandered through the village to Bethanes cottage. It was a beautiful sunny day and hed never felt so alive. Life had suddenly become more potent and more pleasurable.
He entered the cottage and stopped abruptly. It was empty. In the few days he had been there, he always found Bethane and Zia at the table sharing breakfast. What had happened?
He began to worry.
He walked around to the side of the cottage, certain he would find either of the women. He didnt.
Tara, a healer-in-training, was there, and she didnt know where they were.
Without hesitation, Artair began searching the village, but no one, not a single soul, could tell him their whereabouts.
He decided to see if his men had seen Zia or Bethane.
James shook his head at Artairs approach. Patrick has returned with bad news.
Artair had recently sent Patrick to the main road to see if there were any signs of John, the warrior he had sent to inform Cavan of their whereabouts.
Tell me, Artair said, prepared for the worst.
Patrick stepped forward. The village that thought to burn Zia as a witch has contacted the church council claiming that Zia practices witchcraft. The council intends to investigate the accusation.
The news shocked and frightened Artair. How would he ever keep Zia safe? And how could he keep her safe if he didnt know where she was?
Be prepared to leave, Artair ordered, and his men nodded.
He then continued his search of the village, and as before, no one could tell him where Zia or Bethane was and no one seemed concerned.
By early afternoon he was beside himself with worry and wanted to rush and grab Bethane and hug her when he finally caught sight of her entering her cottage.
He hurried to her, his silhouette filling the doorway. Where have you been?
Bethane turned with a flourish. Artair, you startled me.
I have been looking for you and Zia. Where is she?
Is something wrong? Bethane asked.
The older woman was perceptive; he should have known she would sense his concern. However, he couldnt hide it. He was worried about Zias safety.
Where is Zia?
What is wrong, Artair? Tell me, Bethane demanded.
Artair recounted the news he had heard from Patrick, and watched Bethane pale. He reached out and helped her to sit, and she took his hand.
Before sunrise an urgent message arrived from the village Holcote pleading for a healer. A difficult birth, we were told. Zia packed her basket and went to her aid. Bethane shook her head.
Tell me.
Holcote is not far from the village Lorne, which accused her of witchcraft.
Im going after her.
Bethane grabbed his arm. She will not leave the woman in need regardless of her own safety. She will remain with her until the babe is delivered and both mother and child are safe.
Sh.e.l.l leave, Artair said firmly.
Bethane shook her head. You know better than that. It will do you no good to force her, especially if you have feelings for my granddaughter.
Artair ran a frustrated hand across his chin. I dont know what feelings I have for Zia. All I know is that she wont leave my thoughts and she frustrates the" He took a deep breath and plopped down in the chair beside Bethane. I need to keep her safe.
You need to let her be who she is.
That will only get her into more trouble.
You know her better than I thought, Bethane said.
I hope to know her even better.
Then go and keep her safe.
Nessie, come, Artair ordered, and the dog plopped her bottom down next to Bethane.
I will look after her, go, Bethane urged, and he did.
Artair and his men made their way to Holcote with haste. He arrived at the village half expecting, or perhaps half fearing, that he would again find her tied to a stake. Instead he found a village in need. The cottages were in disrepair and the fields ravished, and not by the inhabitants, for most looked half starved. These villagers were va.s.sals to a feudal lord whose only interest was his own prosperity.
Several women lingered around one particular cottage, and Artair felt it safe to a.s.sume they were there to help in the delivery if necessary. Before dismounting, he spoke to James and Patrick.
Go hunt game for these people, and if anyone attempts to stop you, tell them its by order of the laird Sinclare.
Both men nodded and grinned. The Sinclare name was respected throughout the Highlands, and few would dare oppose them. Artair also knew that Zia would refuse to leave the village people in dire straits, but then neither could he. These people needed help, and he was capable of giving it to them. He could not just ignore them.
The door to the cottage was open, and as he approached he heard the suffering moans of a woman and Zias comforting voice.
It wont be long, he heard her say, and hoped it was true. He wanted to get Zia out of there as soon as possible.
Zia, he said, entering the cottage cautiously.
She turned, and while her eyes brightened, she didnt smile. I dont have time for you right now.
We need to speak; its urgent.
Zia handed a mug to one of the two women in the room with her. Make sure she drinks this. It will help dispel the babe.
Artair walked outside with her and kept his voice low. You need to leave here.
Zia looked appalled. You cant expect me to leave this woman now.
You are in danger.
So is she, and what danger? she demanded.
You are being investigated for witchcraft thanks to the village of Lorne. I need to take you somewhere I know you will be safe.
I cannot nor will I leave this woman.
How long? he asked, having expected her response and prepared to do whatever was necessary to keep her safe until she was ready to leave.
Two maybe three days.
He nodded, not believing it a problem, since it would take time for someone to be sent to investigate. He believed he would be able to get her safely to his home before then. In the meantime, he and his men could protect her.
We will leave for my home when you finish here, Artair said.
Are you certain?