Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 116749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“I have none of the mixture left Bliss gives to prevent a bairn and with Lenis newly born and battle raging not far off, I don’t want to take a chance of getting with child.”
“I’ll get you some,” Elysia said about to scoop a ladle full of brew into a tankard.
“I can get it,” Brit offered. “Fix your brew.” She went to a crock on one of the shelves and took it down to place on the table. She pulled a small pouch off her belt and chuckled as she proceeded to fill it with the dried, crushed leaves. “I came to Bliss just before Kevin and I wed, telling her I wasn’t ready for a bairn right away. She showed me the crock she kept it in and told me to help myself when needed.” She chuckled again. “I helped myself a lot.”
Elysia stared at the crock.
“Are you all right, Elysia? You look pale,” Brit said.
“You have a good memory to recall the right crock,” Elysia said.
Brit shook her head and smiled. “Bliss was wise. She didn’t leave it to memory. She marked the crock for me. See.” She pointed to a good-sized scratch on the side. “This way I never make a mistake. She also told me to be careful. That if I hadn’t taken it regularly and there was a chance I might be with child not to drink the brew for it would flush the bairn from me. Listen to me going on when you know all this yourself.”
Elysia watched Brit hurry to finish and return the crock to the shelf.
“I’ll visit soon with Lenis and share that brew with you,” Brit said and gave a wave before closing the door behind her.
Elysia dropped down on a chair, her hand going to rest on her stomach as she stared at the scratch on the fat crock. She’d made a mistake. She had brewed the wrong leaves to prevent herself from getting with child and now she could very well be with child. She was late with her monthly bleed, over a week. She had always been on time, not a day late—never. And now she couldn’t take the chance and drink the brew when Saber returned for fear she would lose the child she might be carrying.
How would Saber react to the news she could be with child? She didn’t need to tell him until she knew for sure. It would save her worry. Worry of what? That he would be angry with her? That she felt foolish for making such a mistake? That now was not the time for a bairn?
She wished her sisters were there. She could use Bliss’s wisdom and Annis’s protectiveness. But then she wouldn’t have this problem if Bliss had been here. Bliss would have made sure Elysia had been given the right brew.
Lord, how she missed her sisters.
She chastised herself. “What is the matter with you worrying about possibly being with child when Bliss is in such danger being wed to the cursed lord and Annis takes a dangerous chance in seeing the curse ended?”
She shook her head. Saber loved her and she loved him and she would be proud to carry his bairn. And she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t feel the same. There were far more important things to concern her.
Elysia sat sipping her brew, thinking it was time to make more salves that would help heal wounds and collect more cloths and see them cleaned so she would be prepared if more warriors returned wounded or God forbid the battle came to the Clan Loudon. She had to keep herself busy so she would not have time to dwell on things.
Once finished with her brew, she got busy and later that night, too tired for supper, she fell into bed and slept.
“Elysia! Elysia! Hurry, you’re needed!”
Elysia thought the shouts were in her dream but hearing them again upon waking, she realized the shouts hadn’t come from her dreams. Someone was frantically shouting for her.
“I’ll be right there,” she called out and hurried to dress.
She opened the door to see Kevin pacing back and forth.
“Brit? Lenis?” she asked worried one or both had taken ill.
Kevin shook his head. “Wounded. Many, many wounded.”
Elysia nodded. “Let me get what I need.”
Fear prickled her skin as she rushed to gather various items.
“Please. Please don’t let Saber be among the badly wounded,” she whispered, the prayer turning silent as she hooked a basket on her arm and grabbed her cloak, then rushed outside. She slipped her cloak on as she walked beside Kevin. The night held more than a chill—it was cold. She wrapped her cloak around her, fear gripping her ever tighter as she and Kevin kept a quick pace to the keep.
The village was alight with torches. Women ran to the keep, tears in their eyes at what they might find. Dogs barked their worry and some bairns wandered out of cottages crying.