Page 120 of Come the Morning

Aye, for she did, she realized. The last thing she had wanted. Aye, to have a husband she loved was a painful thing, how ironic, and she had never known before that love could hurt as badly as this, that it could come with so much fear and longing …

She watched Ewan, and she was glad to do so, and she prayed daily that she could help keep him alive. She told God that He had taken her father too soon and too cruelly, He had taken her mother, He must have mercy and leave Ewan. But even as she prayed, her mind would wander, and she would worry. Had Waryk reached Tyne? What was he doing, was there battle, was there peace,where was he sleeping at night? She could have been with him, except that Vikings had attacked again, and everyone, her own people, friends included, thought that she had invited them …

On the afternoon of the fifth day, Ewan took a turn for the worse. Igraina was in tears, wondering where they had failed. Phagin was frustrated, Mellyora was at a loss herself, so disconsolate that she could give thought to nothing else as the hours passed by. Ewan burned with a new fever. Riders brought back ice, and they packed him with it. Angus suggested he should be bled, Phagin was against it, saying that the poultices drew poisons from the blood, and with what Ewan had shed when he’d been injured, it was doubtful he had enough left that he could be bled. Hour after hour, they soaked him with wet linen sheets, and when the sheets drew the heat from his body, they soaked him again. One of the wounds had become infected; they lanced it and drained it, and covered him anew with the sheeting. At dusk, Phagin touched him. Ewan was very still, and Mellyora thought that he had died. “I think …” Phagin said. “I think he has cooled a little. We must keep up our work.”

Ewan lived. For hours, they worked over him again. Finally, the fever seemed to break. Ewan still hadn’t opened an eye, spoken a word, and Phagin was very grave. They had covered him in sheeting, now they made him clean and dry and blanketed him with furs against the cold. Near midnight, Phagin and Igraina slept, and Mellyora, holding vigil, laid her head upon her arms where they rested on his bedside, and she dozed.

Mellyora …

She heard her name as if she was dreaming, felt a touch upon her hair, and for a moment, she thought she was at the fortress, in her chambers, lying before a fire, and Waryk was there. Then she started awake and she realized she was in a MacKinny cottage on the mainland, where she sat with Ewan. And his eyes were open, and he was looking at her, and he’d tried to say her name, but didn’t really have a voice as yet.

She let out a cry of simple gladness, leaping up, seeing that his eyes remained open, then bending down and kissing his forehead. Her cry awakened Igraina and Phagin, and then Ewan’s grandparents, and they all kissed him and gave him water to sip, and then Phagin said that they’d smother him now that he was alive if they didn’t find some decorum, but even Angus came in and kissed Ewan, who couldn’t protest, on the cheek. He was weak as a kitten, and Phagin was right, they still had to take care.

But once Ewan started recovering, he seemed to have a firm grip on life. He lay in his bed, raising his head a bit more each day, flexing his arm muscles, finally managing to stand and then to sit. It would be a long road back to good health, Phagin warned him. But it did seem that he was on his way.

One afternoon when Mellyora sat with him, she felt that he was strong enough that she could question him, and so she did. “Igraina told us you said that Daro caused these attacks on us. She implied as well that I might have been involved. Ewan, I cannot believe that Daro could be involved, or worse, that you could believe that of me.”

His eyes touched hers with a soft sorrow. “Mellyora, the man I fought and killed told me that they’d been sent by Daro, that this was a Viking stronghold, and he would have it again.”

“But Ewan—”

“I was cut to pieces, Mellyora, certain I was dying then and there. I wanted my sister to get help, and to be safe. I’m very sorry that I involved you, I know that you would never cause death or injury to anyone you loved, to anyone in your care.”

She closed her eyes, grateful to hear his words.

“Has Waryk gone to rout Daro?”

Her eyes flew open, she shook her head. “No … I don’t believe so. He was ordered to Tyne, he was riding there.”

“I must have caused tremendous trouble for you, Mellyora. I’m truly sorry. I hope that Waryk doesn’t think you would betray your own people.”

“He did point out the logic of my seeking Viking aid,” she murmured dryly.

“But he didn’t …”

“Beat me? Throw me into a dungeon? No, not as yet. He has said that men might falsely accuse others.”

Ewan smiled at her, closing his eyes wearily. “Thank God he didn’t beat you. I’m in no condition to defend your honor against such a man.”

She laughed softly, and kissed his cheek. “Oh, Ewan, thank God that you are alive and doing well now. I could not bear it if I were to lose you—”

“Ah, but I have lost you, haven’t I?”

She caught her breath, looking at him, and he shook his head. “It’s all right, Mellyora, it’s as it should be. I just pray that Daro is innocent in this, that Waryk is riding for Tyne, and that we can all find some peace.”

“I’m sure that Waryk is riding for Tyne …”

Her words trailed as she suddenly realized that Waryk had gone to Tyne, aye, but he was riding with an army, and there would be little to stop him from going after Daro if he did believe her uncle guilty.

“Oh, God …” she breathed.

“Mellyora, what is it?”

“Nothing, nothing, I’ll be just outside, your sister and Phagin are here, resting—”

“I’m all right, Mellyora.”

She stood, nodding to him, and hurried outside where she knew that Angus would be waiting. He was sitting on a wooden bench in front of the cottage, whittling a piece of wood. He started to rise.