Under The Highlander's Spell Part 6

James nodded appreciatively and took his leave.

Artair took hold of her arm and moved in close. Were Ronans injures as bad as the barbarians?

No, but bad enough, she answered.

Artair ran his hands through his hair. He shouldnt have left here. His injuries needed time to heal. Hes left himself vulnerable.

Zia took strong hold of his hand. I would have preferred he remain here, but you must understand that when Ronan chose to leave here, he probably unwittingly took what was necessary to help him survive.

Artair arched a confused brow. Explain.

Potions necessary to his healing were added to the various foods he was given so that his healing would not be interrupted. Every bite of food he took fortified him. I doubt he left without taking some sustenance with him. He probably grabbed the first available food which meant he took the food kept in his room, which contained healing herbs. He continues to receive what he needs to heal.

Artair shook his head and stepped away from her. Your ways are strange to me.

To most, Zia corrected.

How do you do it?

We care for each other and those in need. It makes a difference.

Artair stared at her unable or unwilling to respond until finally he reached out to her.

She took his outstretched hand and once again held it firm.

Tell me my brother is strong enough to survive his wounds.

Zia nodded repeatedly. Ronan is more than strong enough to survive and more than determined to survive. You will find your brother.

It is my most devout wish to see him again. To grab him and hug strength into him and know" He shook his head slowly. "know that he is finally safe.

Zia!

At the tearful cry, both she and Artair turned to see a chubby young lad, barely four years old, struggling to hold a plump pup in his arms. Brute needs help.

Zia went to his aid. Whats wrong with him, Thomas?

A fat tear dropped on his pudgy cheek. His paw.

Zia gently wiped it away. You were smart bringing him to me right away. She eased the pup out of his arms and talked rea.s.suringly to the animal as she entered the other part of the cottage and placed the dog on a small table. Lets see whats wrong with you, Brute.

Thomas hurried to the table and patted his pup on the head. Zia will fix you, Brute.

She hoped that she could, and after a quick exam, smiled with relief. Brute has a big splinter in his paw.

He does? Thomas cried out and shook his finger at the dog. I told you not to play in the wood pile. He looked back at Zia. Is it going to hurt? I dont want Brute to hurt.

Artair hunkered down beside the lad. Zia has a tender touch. I bet it doesnt hurt Brute at all.

Thomas smiled wide, his full cheeks flushed. Hear that, Brute? It wont hurt.

Zia had the dog repaired in no time and without as much as a whimper. Actually, she received numerous licks for her good deed. She sent child and pup off with honey biscuits and a promise from Thomas that he would return with Brute in a couple of days so she could make certain his wound was healing properly.

Thomas thanked her with a big hug before he and the pup bounced off, sharing the biscuits.

An old man hunched over from age shuffled into the cottage after Thomas left, and stopped when he spotted Artair. Sorry, I thought when I saw Thomas leave that you were done. I will wait outside.

Zia went immediately to his side, her arm going around his frail shoulder. No, Charles, I can see you now. This is Artair. He is Ronans brother.

Good lad, Ronan, Charles said as Zia guided him to a chair.

You knew my brother? Artair asked eagerly.

I visited him from time to time. Smart and curious.

About what? Artair asked.

Just about anything, though he showed a lot of interest in bows.

Charles is Peter the bow makers father, Zia said.

You pa.s.sed your skill on to your son, Artair said.

Charles nodded. And hes made a better bow maker than me.

And Ronan was interested in bow making? Artair asked.

We spoke more about aim and accuracy. And how a skillful archer can hit his target even at distances thought impossible.

The old man was. .h.i.t with a coughing fit, and Zia shooed Artair outside, though not before Artair told the man theyd speak again.

Zia wasnt surprised when almost an hour later Charles left the cottage and she saw Artair join the old man and follow alongside him talking. But then that was what he was there for, to find out all he could about his brothers stay here. And many would have stories to share with him, for many had visited with Ronan.

However, she didnt know if any would be helpful to Artair, at least not helpful in the sense of what he searched for. Their stories wouldnt tell Artair where his brother went, but they would help him to better understand his brother and what he had gone through, and she wondered if he would realize that.

Several hours later Zia finished her duties and decided to dig up some woodland herbs to flavor that nights fish. Bethane returned and suggested that she find Artair and ask him to help her.

Matchmaking, Grandmother? she asked teasingly.

Bethane grinned and placed a hand to her chest. Me? Never!

You like him, dont you? Zia asked more seriously.

From what I see of him, yes.

You see more than most.

I look deeper than most, Bethane said. But there is much on the surface of Artair that shows me he is a good man. Dig deeper and you will find even more sterling qualities.

Are you suggesting I dig deeper?

She gave a wink. Isnt that what youre about to do?

Chapter 7.

Artair walked through the village a bit surprised that so many had spoken with his brother. It was as if the whole village knew Ronan and had been concerned for him. Most commented on how worried hed been over his brother Cavan, and how he missed his family. But he heard nothing that warranted Ronans sudden departure from the village.

The only sensible answer was that he had been anxious to return home. He thought of sending a message to Cavan, alerting him to the possibility, but decided against it. His family had been disappointed too many times by false leads. And at the moment he had the strange feeling that his brother was running, but from whom and to where? He would investigate more before he shared any opinions with his brothers.

Artair stopped, sensing Zias approach, then caught the familiar scent of her before hearing her footfalls. He shut his eyes and envisioned her. Shed be smiling; she always smiled. Even when she was tied to the stake bartering with him for her freedom, he had thought he detected a hint of a smile. And then there were her sparkling green eyes. Always alight with pa.s.sion. d.a.m.n, but he found her appealing, and the more he got to know her, the more appealing she became.

If he felt so intense about her in such a short time, he could only imagine how hed feel about her given time. And he had decided he wanted extra time to spend with her. How hed manage that, he wasnt certain, but he would.

He turned slowly and burst into a smile, his vision having taken solid form.

I found you, Zia said exuberantly.

I didnt know I was hiding.

She laughed, stopped in front of him and rested her hand against his chest. You cant hide from me; I will always find you.

He placed his hand over hers, the feel of her warm, soft flesh, tingling his own. Why would I want to hide from you?

She scrunched her face in thought and he almost laughed. She looked even more adorable to him. No matter what expression she wore, she remained a beautiful woman.

She answered in a seductive whisper. I will let you find that out on your own.

He lowered his head and returned the whisper. Do you warn me that youre too much to handle?

She pressed her hand more firmly against his chest. Its a possibility.

I can handle anything.

You dont have much luck handling Nessie.

She stepped away from him laughing, and he muttered beneath his breath as he followed her. There would be time for him to show her just how capable he was of handling anything.

Would you like to gather plants with me? she asked, reaching out to take his hand.

Do I have a choice? he asked laughingly as she tugged him along.

Not really.

He followed along willingly, eager to spend time with her, even if he had to collect plants to do it.

Artair wasnt surprised when Zia s.n.a.t.c.hed a basket from the side of a cottage. He was learning that the village Black shared just about everything. The villagers were a contented lot, though not without imperfections, but they dealt with things with relative ease and unity.

He realized why the village operated with almost no conflict. After speaking to several of the villagers he learned that many of them, if not all, found their way here after a great deal of suffering and none of them wished to jeopardize the safety and peace they found. And he certainly could respect that.

Did you find what you were looking for?

Her question stopped him dead. Had he found what he was looking for?

Your brother? Did you find out more about your brother?

He hadnt thought of his brother when she had asked her question. It had been Zia who entered his mind. He cleared his head as best as possible since thoughts of her continued to flit in his mind. No, I didnt.

She nodded and dropped down by a patch of ground covering and with her fingers gently snipped off leaves. Then you will be leaving soon.

Artair hunched down beside her. You wish to be rid of me?

You are welcome here as long as you wish to stay. She continued snipping leaves.

A few more days should do.

Only a few?

She sounded disappointed, so he challenged. Give me a reason to remain longer.

She dropped the gathered leaves into the basket and stared at him for a moment before reaching out and slowly running her fingers down the side of his face. Perhaps there is more here for you to discover.

He liked her veiled invitation. And he more than liked her touch. It sent shivers through his insides that landed in his loins, and he had a hard time controlling his reaction, though managed to do so with great difficulty. He prided himself on his control, his sensibility, and while he found Zia appealing, he refused to lose sense of his senses.

We shall see, he said, and gently, though regretfully, eased her hand away, so her touch could not create more havoc.

She stood with a laugh, the basket looped on her arm. That we will.

He followed her deeper into the woods, confident that while she controlled the path they took, he controlled the journey.

He was impressed with her knowledge of the woodland plants, warning him of the dangers of some, the benefit of others, and the importance of knowing the difference.

Your grandmother taught you? he asked, gathering pinecones at her request.

She nodded. And her grandmother before her and so forth and so forth.

What of your mother?

She died after giving birth to me, Zia answered, scooping various shaped twigs off the ground.

Im sorry.

She placed the few twigs in the basket. I often wish I could have known her. My grandmother tells me that she was a special woman loved by a special man.