Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Fill your complaining stomach,” he urged playfully, wondering at her sudden closeness though not complaining about it. It served their story well about being husband and wife and also that she had come to trust him, rely on him, something he hadn’t expected.
“Then we’ll see about the healer,” Elara said.
A burst of laughter caught her attention. And Elara looked around once more at the perfect abundance and the content faces. How could a village sitting this close to the forbidden land feel so alive and thrive so abundantly? There was not an ounce of fear that the evil of dark magic would touch them. But had it already?
An unease had her leaning even closer to Dar until she felt the brush of his arm against hers. He didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned closer to her and the feel of his solid arm muscle soothed her and gave her a sense of safety. She continued watching the smiling faces around them and could not help but wonder what shadow might lie behind all that light.
The meal had been a filling welcome after two nights of eating the little that was left of the food given to them at Thornleigh. Her stomach was finally full and satisfied and the hot cider had been delicious. She was ready and eager to talk with the healer.
When they stepped back into the open air, dusk was near to falling. Torches were being lit along the pathways, their glow soft and golden.
Dar took hold of her hand and her hand closed around his warm one. She felt a sudden catch in her chest at how pleasant it felt to hold hands with him. A simple act she had never given thought to, yet now realizing how the touch of a man’s hand in hers could spark such pleasure. Or was it a particular man who could spark pleasure?
“Stay close,” Dar ordered, interrupting her thoughts. “If this place is as harmless as it seems, I’ll eat my boots. I’ll wait outside while you speak to the healer. She will no doubt talk more freely to you without my presence. I will speak with anyone who passes by and see what I can learn.”
They followed the path Adelar had pointed out, a narrow lane leading toward the edge of the village where the trees grew thick again. The healer’s cottage sat beyond a small bridge of smooth stones spanning a clear stream. Smoke rose from its chimney, carrying the scent of rosemary and lavender.
Dar paused at the rough wood gate, his gaze sweeping the quiet woods beyond. “Be cautious with your trust,” he warned and reluctantly released her hand.
The vision came swiftly and was over just as swiftly. Her hand was clasped in his, words were being muttered, a ring slipped on her finger, binding them together, and yet she felt nothing but dread.
“Elara. Elara, what’s wrong?”
She heard his anxious voice, felt his hand steadying her, but she could not answer him, the vision had yet to release her, the dread growing heavier.
His arm went around her waist, drawing her close in a gentle hug, and he whispered softly, “Elara, I am here. I will keep you safe. You have nothing to fear.”
Her breath hitched as if she’d been holding it the whole time, though she hadn’t. “I am fine, a bit of fright, that is all.”
“I’ll let no one harm you, on that you have my word,” he whispered close to her ear, his cheek brushing hers.
She forced a smile, wondering if that would prove true, after what the vision had shown her, and she slipped through the gate, her heart thudding.
To rein in her disturbing thoughts, she focused on the tidy garden she passed, every plant trimmed and flourishing. Rows of drying herbs hung from the porch eaves, and the faint hum of bees carried in the air though no hives stood nearby. Elara knocked softly on the door.
It opened almost at once, a woman who appeared to be in her middle years stood there. Her auburn hair was touched with streaks of blonde, her posture straight and graceful, her eyes a lovely shade of blue.
“Come in, lass,” she said, her voice gentle. “The evening chill finds its way into the bones before you notice.”
Elara stepped inside. The warmth struck her immediately, along with the lovely scent of herbs simmering over the hearth. The walls were lined with shelves of jars and bottles, all neatly labeled.
“I am Dea, please sit,” the woman said, pointing to one of the two chairs at a narrow table, then turned to stir the pot hanging over the hearth’s flames.
“I am Elara,” she said, sitting, though kept steady eyes on her. “I am an herb-scribe.”
“How delightful.” Dea smiled. “I am envious. Knowledge of the forest plants is essential to healers. I do not know what healers would do without herb-scribes. But how can I help you, surely with your vast knowledge you know how to treat ailments.”