The reminder turned Hugh’s eyes wide and Sorrell wondered what had happened to Lander that frightened Hugh.
“Good day to you, my lady,” Hugh said and entered his cottage.
His wife closed the door behind him, but not before she turned a pleading glance on Sorrell. She was begging Sorrell not to let any harm come to Hugh.
Sorrell fell silent as they continued walking, the two warriors returning to walk several steps behind her and Blodwen. Something was very wrong here. She had thought that the people hadn’t greeted or even acknowledged Ruddock’s return because they had believed the lies that he wasn’t Finn’s son and had no right to return. But after meeting Hugh, she realized there was far more to it than that.
She was about to ask Blodwen, who had strangely remained silent since Sorrell had exchanged words with Hugh, about what had happened to his arm and also about Lander, when the young woman spoke.
“This is Wilda’s cottage, my lady.”
Sorrell stepped up to the door and knocked, but got no answer.
“Wilda is probably out somewhere tending someone,” Blodwen said.
Sorrell nodded and stepped around the side of the house. Spying a garden in the back, she walked over to it. There wasn’t much to see, the last harvest having cleared nearly all of the garden. If she was hoping to find something that would explain the reason for Finn’s awful smelling brew, it wasn’t here.
“You wish something from me, my lady?”
Sorrell turned while Blodwen jumped at the soft voice behind them.
“I wanted to meet the clan healer and come to know her if ever I should require her skills,” Sorrell said, looking over the older woman, surprised by how frail she appeared.
She had perhaps a bit of height over Sorrell, but not by much, and she was rail thin, her skin pale and the single braid of her long, gray hair rested over her shoulder and on her chest. Her dark eyes, however, appeared to tell a different story. They were bright, alert, and watchful.
“It will be my pleasure to come to know you, my lady. Unfortunately, I have no time to spare today. I only returned here to gather more items to tend those in need.”
“Another day then,” Sorrell said.
“Of course, my lady,” Wilda said with a nod.
Sorrell stopped in front of her when she went to walk past her. “I was curious as to the brew you make for Lord Finn. What is in it?”
“Several herbs that help him tolerate the pain that grows by the day. Now if you will excuse me, my lady, I must go. There are those in need of my care.”
“Until next time,” Sorrell said and walked off.
“Much luck in getting to know Wilda, my lady,” Blodwen said, after taking a few steps away from the healer’s cottage. “She keeps much to herself.”
“How long has she been the clan’s healer and how can one healer provide for such a large clan?” Sorrell asked.
“I believe Wilda has been with the clan five years now. There was another healer, but she died about six months ago. She had been with the clan for as long as I can remember. There’s also two women who tend to the births. Lady Alida, Lord Finn’s wife, had provided healing for the clan along with Esta, the older healer who passed. All loved Lady Alida. She was a good woman.” Blodwen gave a look to the sky. “We should return to the keep, my lady. It grows colder, the gray sky darkens even more and rain will follow soon.”
The two warriors drifted off when Sorrell reached the top step of the keep, their chore done.
“A hot brew would do well before we begin exploring the keep,” Sorrell said as Blodwen opened the door.
“I’ll see to it right away, my lady,” Blodwen said.
Sorrell hesitated a moment before entering, thinking she heard someone cry out. When it didn’t sound again and Blodwen didn’t seem to notice, she stepped inside. It came again as the door closed behind Blodwen and this time it sounded more like a plea.
“Your cloak, my lady,” Blodwen said and went to reach for it.
Sorrell shook her head. “See to the hot brew. I’m chilled.”
Blodwen bobbed her head and hurried off and Sorrell stepped back outside.
She went down a few steps and this time it was clear.
“Please, please, Coyle, I’m sorry,” a woman’s voice begged.
Sorrell made it quickly to the bottom of the steps and followed the voices.
“You’ll do as I say, woman.”
Sorrell cringed when she heard the hard slap, almost feeling the woman’s pain.
“No! No! I beg you, Coyle. I’ll be good. I give you my word, I’ll be good,” the woman pleaded.
Sorrell realized the voices came from beyond the castle walls, and she spotted a door that sat open, leading outside the wall. She hurried through it to see a fair-sized man dragging a woman toward the stream of water that fed the water mill