“I came here with no malice, only to help. The witch has already brought evil to Clan Strathearn, striking the lot of them ill. But you know that since one brave soul ventured here for help.”
Bhric continued to wonder over how well-informed Ivan was. He could understand him hearing of the illness at Clan Strathearn but to know a man was sent here to ask for help was not something he would be privy to.
Glad he had only recently received good news from Newlin, he was pleased to say, “Clan Strathearn heals well. They have all recovered.”
“Could it be because evil had its fill there and followed you here?” Lord Ivan questioned, looking to Bhric. “What danger could your people be in when it decides to strike?”
“There is no danger my warriors fear or cannot handle,” Bhric said.
“They do not question how your wife can command war hounds and turn them docile unless she wishes otherwise?”
“I owe you no explanation and if you think to stir unrest in my people, I warn you that you will learn how faithful and obedient they are to me,” Bhric cautioned, wondering the true reason for Ivan’s arrival here. The man was by no means magnanimous, so why was he here?
Shea rushed forward to whisper something in Sven’s ear and the fear that struck his face had Bhric asking, “What is it?”
“Ingrid is ill,” Sven said and rushed from the room.
“And so it begins,” Ivan said with a sad shake of his head.
Tavia did not fail to see what others missed, the glee of pleasure in Ivan’s eyes.
Tavia could not keep pace with her husband and waved him off. When he moved toward her for them to remain together, she shooed him away, knowing he was anxious over his sister. “Go, your sister needs you. I will catch up.” Fen remained with her as she kept a tempered gait so her leg would not betray her.
She stopped suddenly when turning a curve along the path to see a commotion in front of Sven and Ingrid’s cottage.
“It is her fault. She is evil!” a woman yelled, pointing a finger at Hertha.
“She does the witch’s bidding,” another called out.
Tavia rushed forward with no regard to her leg. “LEAVE HERTHA BE!”
The accusing women hurried to get out of Tavia’s way, fearful of her and Fen, his vicious snarl displaying his sharp teeth.
Hertha latched onto Tavia’s arm when she reached the worried woman. “I did nothing wrong, my lady.”
“I know that, and I will see you kept safe,” Tavia assured her. “Now tell me what happened.”
“I was talking with Ingrid, asking her how she felt when she doubled over in pain. I got her into her cottage, and she insisted I get Greta and I did. I gave her nothing and did only what she asked of me.” Hertha glanced cautiously around. “I saw a pouch on the table when I helped her inside and into bed. It was not there when I returned with Greta.”
“We must tell Bhric,” Tavia said.
“HERTHA! In here now!” Bhric demanded from the open doorway.
Tavia kept firm hold of Hertha’s arm as they entered the cottage together.
“What did you give her?” Bhric demanded.
“Nothing, my lord,” Hertha said and went to step forward to help Ingrid who was retching.
Bhric blocked her path. “My sister says she asked if there was something you could give her since her morning ills had returned.”
“Aye, but I warned her she should not take anything now with her time so close and suggested a chamomile brew to help soothe her. But I had yet to give it to her.”
Ingrid was shaking her head and when she stopped retching said, “You left the pouch on the table and now it is gone.”
“I left no pouch for you, but if you let me I can help ease your retching,” Hertha offered.
Greta waved Hertha forward. “Fix the brew.”