“It is nothing, Da,” she assured him, letting him know not to say anything about her permanent limp and took his arm so that Bhric would release her other arm, and he did.
“She can barely walk. Summon your healer,” Bhric ordered, his annoyance clear in his snappish tone.
“Fetch the healer,” Newlin ordered to one of his warriors standing nearby and, with a firm arm around his daughter’s waist, helped her to slowly mount the first step.
Tavia cried out in shock as she was ripped from her father’s grip after barely taking a step and hoisted up once again into her husband’s arms.
“Only three steps and you can barely make the first one.” Bhric turned a glare on Newlin. “Hurry your healer. I will not see my wife suffer through her injury even though it was her own foolish fault.”
“It is easier to blame me than to take responsibility for your poor riding ability,” she said, her response, as courageous as it was, was also foolish for speaking without giving it thought.
Bhric stopped abruptly. “I will not tolerate a sharp-tongued wife. Do it again and see what happens.”
His threat frightened her since she had no idea what he would do. Men could strike their wives without fearing any consequences. Was he a man of brutish nature? Would he raise his hand against her when displeased with her?
She cast a glance at his hands as he continued carrying her. They were large and could do much damage if he ever struck her. She closed her eyes against the image of his sizeable hands swinging at her face and it sent a shiver racing through her.
“Have you no strength to you, woman?” Bhric asked with disgust upon feeling her shiver.
Tavia was spared a response, not that she had one, since he deposited her quickly on a bench near the fireplace in the Great Hall and walked away.
“Drink!” Bhric ordered when he turned to Newlin, trying to contain his annoyance.
He yanked his fur cloak off his wide shoulders and tossed it to a nearby bench. How could his mother ever think this petite woman would make him a good wife? How could she ever bear him children, let alone take him easily between her legs?
Bhric shook his head and downed the tankard of ale, a servant handed him, in little time, then he turned once again to Newlin. “Did my mother meet, Tavia?”
“Aye, she did,” Newlin said, dreading the question that might follow.
“How long ago?” Bhric asked.
Newlin kept his smile though wondered if it appeared more a cringe since he was fighting to maintain it. “A few years or more.”
It must have been more than a few years since Tavia did not recall ever meeting Lord Bhric’s mum.
“Look at me,” Bhric ordered and pounded his wide chest before stretching his arms out from his sides, the height and width of him more than impressive. “Now look at your daughter. Do you think us a good match?”
Newlin’s chin went up. “My daughter may be petite, but she has a strong nature and more importantly she has a kind heart.”
“A kind heart does me no good. I need a wife who is almost as fearless as I am and strong enough to bear me many sons and daughters.” He pointed to Tavia. “Tell me she can deliver a brood of bairns without difficulty.”
“No one can tell you that about any woman.”
Bhric turned to see a woman of fairly good height, slim, and with plain features. The gray in her dark hair and the wrinkles that pinched at the corners of her eyes spoke of her many years.
“I am Auda, the clan’s healer, my lord,” she said, introducing herself. “I have seen large women have trouble giving birth and bairns slip out of thin and petite women with ease. No one knows how a birth will go until the time comes.”
“Did you attend Tavia’s birth?” Bhric asked.
“I was in attendance, but it was the healer before me, Eartha, who saw to the delivery.”
Bhric looked to Newlin. “Tavia is your only child?”
“Aye,” Newlin said again, nervous about the question that was sure to follow.
“Why?” Bhric demanded.
“My mum died giving me life,” Tavia called out from where she sat.