Barrat moved very quickly, immediately pulling Tasha into his arms, and turned, heading towards her chambers.
"Druid, see to your mate first, then come to Nessa," Arrin-Moag commanded, as the pair of men headed up the grand stairs towards the chambers of his newest wife. Barrat merely nodded. His mind was on what damage was done to Tasha, not on the obviously barely hurt Nessa. Nessa's Mother moved swiftly behind her son-in-law. "Dira, call a footman, or Baaxah. Send to the village, all healers, to aid Druid Barrat. No expense spared." Tiny ladies, maids to Nessa, hurriedly opened the chamber door. Nessa's mother, Dira nodded, and turned back down the corridor, towards the main floor.
Barrat eased Tasha's unconscious form on the huge feather filled bed, pulled the heavy drapes open wide, opening the window glass as well. Fresh air and sunshine heals as well as medicines and clean water. For a moment, he stood, staring blankly at her, his mind actually a blank.
He had to will calmness to complete the needed healing. His heart pounded in his chest, her pain was his. It was then he realized, somehow, she was his mate, and he could not lose his new found love. This would both aid and curse his duties to come in the next critical few hours. As he watched, slaves entered, sent by Arrin-Moag, to do his bidding. All were sent away, with specific instructions. His mind had cleared, and centered on the task at hand.
Barrat had just finished painstakingly removing Tasha's tattered clothing when the other healers from the area entered the room. Immediately, a pious looking man gasped and another man went to the window, beginning to close it.
"Touch it not. Mother Earth helps us heal. Be gone with you. You, Birthing Woman, you stay." Barrat had not turned, and as the men left, several of the servants returned with what Barrat had requested.
The men were decidedly put off, but the gold offered to them was enough to keep them for many years. They headed off to find the keeper of the keep.
"M'Lord?" The pious man stated in a hesitant voice, as Arrin-Moag went to move past him, with Baaxah in tow.
"What?" The word was terse, unwelcoming.
"Your Druid sent us away. He will kill her, and anyone else. He allows the sun and..." The man began until Arrin-Moag cut him off, eyes hard on their faces.
"Then be gone from my castle. The Druid knows what he does," the master of the castle stated coldly, and moved away, heading to his study, motioning for Baaxah to follow him.
Arrin-Moag had planned to leave Castle Seren the next morn, but he could not now. His bride, and the Elfin Ranger, too important.
"M'Lord?" Baaxah asked, almost anxiously. He was unsure whether Arrin-Moag would order Tasha's death, should she not die of her wounds.
"Send messengers to Castle Mesa and Castle Listic, to my other wives, tell of my delay. With my enemies, I trust no one but the Elf Ranger with Nessa's life," Arrin-Moag said, his cold tones of earlier replaced by shaken ones. This could have easily been much worse, saving enemies troubles of attempting murder.
Baaxah knew his master's words were true. There were no less than six families which, powerful in their own rights, were under the rule, more of less, of Arrin-Moag, the Tarrag of the entire region. He was a fair master, but unbent by wealth or luxury, or gifts, of whatever form. For this, rumors of plots against him ruled wagging tongues of the times.
"So, though the Mistress is harmed, the Elfin Ranger lives?" Baaxah commented more than asked, surprised by it.
"Aye, if she lives. Until the truth be known, she lives." Arrin-Moag spoke slowly, as if drained by the events.
Before Baaxah could comment, Dira came to the door, a relieved look on her face.
"The Druid has roused Nessa. She asks for you . . . and the Elf. I did not tell her. It best come from you."
"The Elf dies ... as it often is when this happens. I will come momentarily, Mother Dira," Arrin-Moag formally told his future mother-in-law. With a nod, she left the men.
"Master, you wish what of me?" The strawberry blond, sturdy mid-wife asked. This one, she thought, loves out of his race. His love lies dying, life's blood seeping onto stark white sheets, like an angry plague.
"You have a name? I am no one's master ... not even my own," said Barrat, as he drew water from a steaming cauldron, portioning some to a pewter bowl, and a good amount to a porcelain one.
"I am Athene. Your station bids the calling of master," she dutifully stated, green-hazel eyes on his face, as he washed his hands thoroughly with a hard bar brown soap cake, and turned to face her. He washed not in the porcelain wash basin, but in the pewter dish.
"Sprinkle that blue packet, all of it, into the water there, and stir it up until it dissolves," Barrat told her, dumping out his medicine bag, where several packets of a rainbow of colors fell out, with other items.
"What is this?" Athene asked. Even as she did what was bid, she was curious, and wanted to learn new things.
"It is dried tincture of boiled clover blossoms. It will help stop the blood flow. She loses a lot," Barrat answered softly, as he ripped up bandages into smaller pieces, and dropped them now into the pinkish water. He turned to the utensils the servants had brought earlier. His face contorted. He did not see what he wanted there.
"Bring me a kitchen fork, a roast fork too," Barrat barked to a hovering slave girl, barely eleven, who immediately disappeared from view.
It seemed like only seconds later she returned, and handed him two large roast forks, two prong sharp iron forks, used to lift large roasts off of platters and such, along with four or five three prong eating forks, and two long bladed roast knives. Immediately, Barrat dropped all the metal instruments and utensils into the bubbling water in the cauldron over the fire, and requested large amounts of fresh clear water.
"Master..." Athene's words ended, as Barrat laid a fire poker in the brilliant coals of the fire, as well as his own athame, and Tasha's four daggers.
"Those are unclean, cause infection. One cannot prevent it when trying to cleanse wounds. Find me some silk thread, the best silk sewing thread you can find here," Barrat requested, drawing the utensils from the boiling water without touching them. Athene nodded, understanding now, for she'd seen better healed wounds from clean knives than just hot ones.
"Come ... we must begin," Barrat sighed, glancing over at Tasha's unconscious, pain-wracked form. Athene nodded, and followed him to Tasha's side, unbuttoning her blouse cuffs and hastily rolling them up.
Nessa's eyes fluttered as Arrin-Moag entered her quarters, where she lay lightly bundled, upon a chaise lounge, in the sun, an open window close to her. She smiled warmly, for she did love this man, and held a slim hand out to him.
"My Dearest, you aught not sit..." he began.
"Nonsense. Barrat said I should get fresh air and sunshine. It's good for me. Tasha, where is she?" Nessa asked, attempting to look around him. Her head hurt, but the drink which Barrat had given her, that he told her contained a small amount of feverfew in it, had taken most of the blinding pain away.
"She is ... it is uncertain. She may not live..." his words were cut off by her immediate attempt to rise, and look of despair.
"No ... She can't die ... let me..." Her words were lost, as Arrin-Moag caught her to him, wrapping strong arms around her.
"Hush now. Barrat does what he can ... we wait now for word. What happened? I do not want to take her valiant life, which I said I would if harm came to you." He sat, drawing her onto his lap.
"I stopped our ride ... I had to relieve myself. There was a she-boar ... I didn't see her ... Tasha called out, and then she pushed me out of the way. I fell ... I don't remember anything else, except waking here, with Barrat attending me." Nessa told her story in a soft childlike tone. Arrin-Moag heaved a sigh, but remained silent. Tasha, if she lived, would be righteously honored, if she died, she would be taken back to her home land, to rest forever among her blessed trees.
Barrat looked down at his hands. They were stained with her blood, and though it didn't flow as rapidly, it still flowed. Athene watched his face, as he grew wearier, and more stressed.
They had worked on every wound, cleaning, burning, washing again, and sewing shut, then bandaging. The sun had long since set, and several servants held torches and candles for them to see to their work. Tasha looked more mummified than hurt. She had slipped into a deep pit of unconsciousness, barely moving or making a sound, even when the worst ministrations were carried out.
"Now ... we wait," Barrat said softly, pulling a chair next to her bed, and sitting heavily in it. He had set broken bones, cleaned ragged open wounds, and stitched them back together carefully. Now he had to wait to see what would transpire in the next twenty-four hours.
She will have a fever, he thought silently, as he barely noticed Athene usher all but two of the nine servants out of the room. She dutifully, silently, began to make a semblance of order to the room, gathering bloodied rags and clothing, straightening things up.
"Bring more water, and take those bloody things away, burn them far from the castle, and its grounds and peoples," Athene quietly ordered, to which the servants nodded. "Barrat, you should sleep." She glanced around the room, for some kind of sustenance for them both, even just a hot tea would have been gladly welcomed.
"I'll doze but not rest until she is healed. Will you accept my thanks for all you have done? I will see to it that you are handsomely paid. Now, will you stay?" he asked, watching her smile gently.
"I shall stay as long as she heals. Your love will aid much in that. My payment is little, if only to see your love live, Master," Athene told him, and watched a tired smile come into his face.
"The next stage will be fevers and dreams. If there is poison, let us hope it is in the outer layers of the skin. Inside, I will have to do something I have little knowledge of, and have only been theoretically trained to do. I will need more things, but with the darkness, there is no way to get them at night. Though, I would like to have some early roses picked during the night, some for tea, and some for her," Barrat said, almost as if he were drifting with Tasha's ravaged mind.
The truth be known, he was drifting with her mind, for as he healed her, he sent as much of his own life force to her as he could, and still be of use to her. Their life forces entwined, in a more intimate and eternal way, than just the quest together could have brought them to be. The healing he spoke of, was the bloodletting, giving her his own blood, to replace what she had lost. He'd studied it, and knew it by memory, but he had never witnessed it, nor done it. It was said, this also entwined two together as one, eternally.
"What else do you require?" Athene asked, as she nodded to the returning servants to await her words of command.
"I will need the bark from white oak trees, and black walnut hulls. The rest I have that I will need," Barrat answered, unaware that his stomach rumbled with a call for to fill a void. He had not eaten since taking breakfast with the rest of the castle's servants.
"I will be back in a moment," Athene said quietly, and ushered the servants out of the room. All of them now revered her, for she was quick and had no problems with what she had seen done that day. A thought crossed her mind, perhaps, they would now speak of her as some kind of sorceress. It was almost funny to think of that.
"Fetch a tray for us, and some hot tea. We will require the bark from white oak trees, they live down along the lake edge. We also need twenty plus four unopened new roses. Bring some extra linens, more silk thread, and be ready when we call," Athene commanded, and with a nod the servants were gone. Thus their long wait began.
Late the next afternoon, Arrin-Moag startled both Athene and Barrat from their light sleep.
"M'Lord?" Barrat said dutifully, he knew not that Arrin-Moag had decided to let Tasha live. He thought then, that he would have to heal Tasha quickly, in order to escape.
"How is she?" Arrin-Moag asked softly, for Tasha slept no more than three feet away. His eyes were gentle on her form, but his mind was closed to Barrat's gentle probing.
"She rests between dreams. Her wounds will heal slowly. It'll all be for naught if you plan to kill her once the truth be known." I will not allow her to die, was left unsaid by Barrat when he more or less finished reporting.
"Should she die, it will not be of my hand, or one whom serves me. She dies, or lives, of her own accord. I remain here until all is said or done," Arrin-Moag said to him, with a stern, but gentle voice, then left the room.
Barely ten minutes later, when Barrat went to force the somewhat bitter tea of white oak bark and black walnut shells past Tasha's lips, he realized she burned with fever and several wounds were swollen and dangerously discolored.
"Barrat, there is poison here. I'll fix poultices." Athene was quick to move from the bedside, back to the barony style table, and prepare several poison-drawing poultices. Deftly, from passed-down knowledge, Athene quickly mixed a chalice full each of lard from the boar's fat, bees wax, rosin, and shavings from Barrat's hard brown soap cake. This mixed easily, and was applied in huge dollops to fresh, clean linen. Normally, a single wound would require just about a quarter amount of each ingredient, but Tasha's wounds were great. Without his agreement, Athene placed these poultices over the wounds which required it, once infected bandages removed.
As Athene did so, Barrat moved to the continuously boiling cauldron, and drew off a tankard full. To this water, he added about a teaspoon full of lobelia. If he could get her to drink it, it would quickly bring down her fever.
"If the poison is not in her blood, but only in the wounds, this will cure it, and we will know in two suns," said Athene gently, to which Barrat merely nodded.
Two suns later, Barrat returned to the sick room, after pronouncing Nessa fit for her normal activities, to find Athene requesting as cold water as could be found. Tasha thrashed in fevered delirium, sweat droplets glistening on pale skin, which held a deathly pallor.
"The poultices did nothing, Barrat," Athene told him, her eyes showing remorse. She carried no love for blood letting, knowing it worked only on rare occasions. More times than not, tormented, pained deaths were the result.
"I thought as much would happen. We have no choice now." Barrat's words were heaved out, like a sigh. He had to change her blood. Without another word, he left the room, and headed towards the Slave Compound. He knew he could use his blood only as a last resort.
Hortiem stood giving orders to several slaves near the center of the compound, as Barrat entered it. Immediately, the Slave Overseer was wary. He knew well what had transpired four days previous. Immediately, the Druid moved to the Barbarian, and waited until he finished talking.
"Overseer Hortiem, are there any elves or half-elves among the slaves except Tasha?" Barrat asked, as part of his mind focused on what was needed for this procedure.
"Aye, two half, but we have four full elves in the guard. Expensive lot too," Hortiem answered. His eyes watched a brief look of relief pass over Barrat's strained expression.
"Have all sent to me, as soon as you can. I need them bathed as well," Barrat said quickly, turning back towards the castle.
"The use of it? Let the wench die. She'll be permanently..." Hortiem's words were cut off as Barrat hissed, turning quickly, stepping close to the larger man. Blind rage filled him, causing the next powerful emotion to love, anger, to lash silently out. A horrendous fear gripped Hortiem as Barrat's more powerful mind over took his, giving him the illusions.
"Feel what she feels; experience what she does." Barrat's soft hypnotic words gripped Hortiem, transferring Tasha's experiences to him.
"I shall do as you bid. Release me, please, Druid," Hortiem breathed raggedly, doubling over in agony. Barrat released him, and moved quickly back to the castle, and Tasha.
Athene watched as Barrat washed, then cleansed more instruments, including some long tubes of an unknown material to her. She didn't know what he was doing, until he explained when the elves and half elves came into the room, their hair still wet from bathing.
"First, I will get some of her blood flowing, then seal it off. I ask you to give your life blood to her," Barrat solemnly requested.
"I cannot, Sire Cleric. I spent the winter months in red fever," came the strong voice of the tallest, black haired elf.
"You are?" Barrat asked.
"Full elf, Errin-Rox. I will do the Square while you proceed. It may aid." His green eyes glanced from the Druid to the Elfin Ranger. He was in awe of her. She had attained Ranger station in life, he was merely a bowman.
"Then I thank thee, Errin-Rox, for what aid you give you," Barrat said, inclining his head slightly to Errin-Rox.
Barrat, Athene, in fact all in the room knew Errin-Rox spoke of the almost legendary Elfin Power Square. All watched silently as Errin-Rox disappeared from the room. He went to fetch his four daggers.
Barrat continued then, silently, with the procedure, until Tasha's right wrist was slit along a vein and her blood flowed into a porcelain basin, held securely in Athene's hands. He then began to softly chant under his breath, calling out to the Great God, and his deities of healing: Bel; Badb; the Dagda; Brigit; Diancecht; and Ogma.
Athene knew not whom to watch more closely at the beginning as Errin-Rox returned in a pale yellow robe, carrying his four daggers, their silver and gold hilts adorned with chamomile bunches. She caught the faint essence of marigold in the room as he moved past her, to journey to the balcony, and then began to hum a wordless tune.
Errin-Rox carefully laid out the glistening weapons upon the balcony, hilt to tip, into a near perfect square, then sat cross legged, head bowed, eyes closed, continuously humming, near the square. There he'd remain until the procedure was complete.
Barrat ignored Errin-Rox, for he did not hear him anyway. After about fifteen minutes, the porcelain bowl was near full, and he resealed the slice on Tasha's wrist.
Athene then watched in fascination as Barrat took what appeared to be a needle -- actually a piece of hollow glass -- and pierced the back of Tasha's hand. The other end of the glass held a length of tubing, and another needle. Once done, he motioned to Athene to, with a cloth, bind the needle and tube to Tasha's hand securely. He then pierced his own hand, and blood immediately began to flow down the tube into Tasha.
The procedure was repeated five more times, each giving approximately fifteen minutes worth of blood to her.
"Go now, and rest. Eat and drink, no alcohol. I may need you to return. I shall send word that you are not to work until I decide," Barrat told the elves tiredly, motioning for them to leave.
"You too need rest. Come, lie over here. I'll wake you ... should something occur," Athene said gently, helping the very weary Druid to the chaise lounge.
"If permitted, I would like to stay Sire Cleric," Errin-Rox requested, sounding as if he'd just woken.
"Aye. Call me Barrat. I thank thee." Barrat could sleep several hours. It would be that long before any kind of change, for better or worse, would be seen. As he drifted off, he knew now him and Tasha were permanently joined, no matter what happened.
Arrin-Moag returned to the sick room two days after the blood letting. Tasha had not woken, but the fever was gone, as was most of the infection. The blood letting had worked, against the greatest of odds.
"She heals well. I do not know when she'll awaken," Athene told him. She was becoming more or less a personal servant to Tasha. She kept the young woman clean and comfortable. She wasn't sure if Tasha would waken.
"I came to tell you, Barrat, I have to leave for a couple of days. It must be done, and Nessa will not journey from the Castle whilst Tasha lies here thus." Arrin-Moag was almost treating Barrat as an equal.
"Your lands can not wait for a woman to heal ... even if it is Ella-Tasha. We await your return, M'Lord, in hopes good news greets your return. May Lugh watch over you as you travel." Barrat did not rise from his seat near Tasha's bed. He knew the birthday celebration was five days away now. Arrin-Moag nodded, and left them.
***
The rose hues of the sunrise touched seductively against indigo skies as Tasha's brilliant, clear green eyes opened for the first time in nearly a fortnight.
"Well, I assume you are Ella-Tasha properly, Mistress. I be Athene McDougall. I'd lay wager you're thirsty." Athene's brilliant green hazel eyes glittered with unshed tears seeing Tasha's eyes open. Slowly, the stricken woman nodded.
"Barrat..." Her voice crackled, but the sound was enough to rouse Barrat, who was on the balcony dozing.
"Tasha..." His moves were quick, his voice spoke openly of his love for her. Dark eyes held back his own tears, as he came to her side, gently holding her hand in his.
"How... long..." Tasha asked.
"Near a fortnight. You'll heal well now."
"Nessa..." Tasha forced her scratchy words out.
"Unharmed. Healed. Hit her head on a stone. When you're stronger, she'll be able to come to you. Rest. Quiet. Athene will give you some water. Water and sweet tea with medicines until I say so." Barrat's tones were extremely gentle, as Athene clicked her tongue at him, and motioned him away. Now, it was her turn to show her expertise.
Arrin-Moag returned, as promised, two days before the huge birthday celebration, shocked to find Tasha seated with Nessa, Barrat and Athene in the now lush central courtyard of the Castle Seren. He was unsure what surprised him more, her almost healthy appearance, or the striking figure she posed in an elegant royal green morning dress.
"Arrin!" Nessa burst, seeing him first, jumping to her feet, and launching herself into his arms. Barrat, Athene, and Tasha rose to their feet, Barrat gently holding Tasha's left elbow to help her remain steady.
"I should go more often. I do not know what pleases me more, my love, you running to greet me, or seeing Ella-Tasha alive and well." Arrin-Moag smiled warmly, wrapping his arm around Nessa's small waist.
Tasha had dreaded this moment, for none had told her she would not be killed for harm coming to Nessa. Silently she had not been able understand why Arrin-Moag had paid to heal her, only to have her killed.
"Fear not, Ella-Tasha. Your life is not forfeit for Nessa's small injury. Your wounds were enough to bear. I have given word to my Captain of the Guard, and Men-at-Arms, that they are not to be alarmed when they see you next in regular duties. You would have faired better fully armed. Thus you shall be. You are now permitted to carry all of your weapons." Arrin-Moag's words astounded all in the group.
"I thank you, Tarrag," was all Tasha could muster, her emotions ragged from his expression of honor, and Barrat's hand on her arm.
"Come, we have a celebration to prepare for," Arrin-Moag said jovially, turning Nessa in the direction of the castle.
The next two days were exhausting for all, especially Tasha, as the birthday festival, for that's what it graduated to be, arrived with vast amounts of food, gifts, flowers and people.
Nessa's big day arrived clear and beautiful, and she seemed to float through the whole day. Arrin-Moag watched his bride. He'd given her cause for thought the previous night. He would grant her one extensive but reasonable wish. He'd left it with her to decide upon what it would be.
As darkness began to fall, and what seemed like thousands of torches were lit around the inner courtyard, where the feast was being held, Nessa came to her decision.
Even Barrat caught his breath, when he saw Nessa emerge from the castle, followed by Tasha and Dira, Nessa's mother. Nessa wore a lightweight but elaborate white and silver gown. She looked more angel than bride. Tasha was dressed in an elaborate green gown, as if she were actually a living part of the gardens, it appeared. Only Dira could not be described, for dour, somber clothing adorned the still young woman in mourning. As Nessa arrived, the hundred or so guests made their way to the long, heavy barony tables which were laid out for all to seat themselves at. Several guests were subtlety shocked as Barrat offered his arm to Tasha, and seated her next to Nessa at the head table. Minstrels played in a corner area of the courtyard softly.
The huge meal progressed more quickly than it should have, and as Madeira, mead and grog were served prior to elaborate pastry desserts, Arrin-Moag rose to his feet and the courtyard fell silent.
"My Love, and honoured guests, before this evening passes further into existence, I ask you hear, with me, the answer to a question I put to Nessa last evening. My Dear, as you know, I shall grant an extensive but reasonable request unto you. Have you come to a decision as to what it shall be?" Arrin-Moag's voice was clear and precise.
"I have, My Love." Nessa's voice was cultured and strong, bringing pride to Barrat, as well as her mother and Arrin-Moag as she rose to her feet.
"Two and a half moons ago, Barrat and Tasha came to us, along with their friend, Kao. With them, too, came their quest. As long as they remain here, their quest remains unfulfilled. I ask that, here and now, the Druid Cleric Barrat, the Elf Ranger Ella-Tasha, and Kao and his mate, be granted their freedom, and be outfitted for their journey." Nessa's words shocked almost everyone.
It was as if Arrin-Moag already knew it, but he knew not truly what to answer her. Tasha glanced between them all. She wasn't sure what she felt. Freedom, which had become an elusive dream, was being offered.
"Of this quest, I do not know, but I shall do as you ask, on the condition that both Ella-Tasha and Barrat remain as long as it takes to find suitably trained replacements. They shall be honored guests from this day forward," Arrin-Moag declared, watching Barrat's and Tasha's reactions.
"It is agreed. Of our friend, Kao..." Tasha began, then she thought to look at Barrat whom nodded his accordance.
"He, too, shall join you here within the castle. Send someone to fetch them and their things. Come, Guests, enjoy." Arrin-Moag smiled brilliantly, as footmen headed off to the Slave Compound.
Tasha stared at Barrat, many hours later, when they returned to their chambers. Barrat had sent footmen to move all of his things back into her chamber, giving up his for Kao and Tressa to have.
"Is this true?" Kao said unevenly, unsure, as they joined Barrat and Tasha, his eyes regaining some sparkle, though uncertain.
"You and Tressa are free. Tressa, when does the child come?" Barrat asked as he poured chalices of mead for them all.
"Free? What is freedom? I was born into this life. The child comes in seven moons, more or less," Tressa said, turning to the water pitcher, and watering down her mead.
"Ah, then you should not journey with us," Tasha said, causing Tressa to chuckle as she casually climbed onto Kao's lap. Kao had not spoken again. He'd been into slavery. He did not know freedom either.
"I shall be fine. A journey, a quest as this, shall need vast supplies. I can still handle a team of horses being with child," Tressa said, and quickly rose to her feet when Nessa and Arrin-Moag entered, carrying a large glass decanter of amber liquid. Both Tressa and Kao moved to bow, until Arrin-Moag moved quickly to stop them.
"You are free now. You are your own masters," Arrin-Moag told them, motioning for Nessa to sit down, and then placed the decanter on the table. "There are some papers I shall affix my seal to, then your passage through other lands will be easier," Arrin-Moag said between drinks. All watched him, with unease almost. "I shall ensure that you have what you need for your journey," he finished, and watched the rest around him.
"I have decided who shall take my place as Nessa's protector," Tasha announced, to everyone's surprise. "Errin-Rox shall be trained in my place. He is already a bowman, an Elfin bowman. He will take little time to become a Ranger." She received a nod of approval from Arrin-Moag and Barrat. Thus it began.
***
Fall colours began to touch the trees when Barrat announced that he'd found a suitable replacement for himself, which meant that they had only a short time before beginning their journey onward.
"I have tested, and agreed for Michi to take my place. He is a good student, and he knows much. We may be able to leave once Errin-Rox's training is complete," Barrat said as Tasha appeared in the chambers.
"Errin-Rox's training is completed, done a couple of suns. I waited on you, Barrat," Tasha told him, and waited. She sounded more like her old self, and had gone back into proper elf training with Errin-Rox. Though her heart warmed to the young elf man, and she knew he watched her with amorous eyes, her heart was surprisingly centered on Barrat.
"Very good. We shall make ready then. A fortnight then?" Barrat asked, watching her calmly, though his heart centered on the attractive picture of her in her tunic and leggings. She'd lost weight, but her illness had done that.
"Yes, a fortnight. Will we be ready?" Tasha asked, pouring herself a chalice of grog, and sitting down on the chaise lounge.
"Aye, we will be ready." Barrat said evenly, and took the grog from her hand.
Immediately she reacted, rising and snatching the chalice back. Barrat glared at her and captured her wrist, the hand that held the chalice.
"You should not have much more of it. You are still healing." Barrat said in a low dangerous tone.
"I'll decide, Druid, when enough is enough," Tasha harshly shot back, until Barrat pulled her roughly against his form.
"I will tell you what is enough, Tasha," Barrat said softly, watching her eyes widen, and an ashen hue came into her face.
"What? No ... come back, Tasha ... what is this ... your heart is..." Barrat's words were soft and hypnotic, until Kao came into the room, and went to leave again.
"No, Kao, what is it you want?" Tasha asked almost desperately, wishing to be free of Barrat's hold upon her. She was desperate to sort her own emotions out, and turn her attention to this unknown quest.
"I came to see when we are to leave. Arrin-Moag has asked me to tell you to go and see him, both of you," he told them, grinning at the pair. He was the only one who knew the truth. He was the only one who knew they were in fact not mated.
"We shall go," Tasha said with a quick movement, jerking herself out of Barrat's arms, which served only to cause Barrat to chuckle.
"We leave in a fortnight, Arrin-Moag. We thank you now for all which you have done for us," Barrat stated a short time later, as he and Tasha met with the man who was once their master.
"What I have done for you, is of no measure against what you have done for me, and my beloved Nessa. Let Baaxah know what you need, and it shall be provided. I am already missing your presence here in Castle Seren," Arrin-Moag replied, his eyes saddened.
"You have proved a good friend to us, and we shall return here. You are brethren," Barrat assured him, offering his hand to Arrin-Moag.
Tasha stood for a long moment, next to the gray gelding, a fortnight later, looking back at the beautiful Castle Seren, where she knew Nessa was closeted in her chambers, in tears of parting.
"She'll be fine, Tasha. We must go. We must hasten to the south east, to the land of the white rocks," Barrat said softly next to Tasha's ear. She turned quickly to face him.
"The land of white rocks? What will happen there?" Tasha asked as she moved to the gelding and quickly pulled herself up into the silver adorned saddle.
"The other worlders will meet us there," were his only words.
"What do you mean 'other worlders'?" Kao asked, astride a huge white gelding, while Tressa had control of a pair of brown mares, attached to a large, sturdy, covered cart. The cart contained all they would need for several weeks until they reached the next settlement or village. Among their possessions, certificates of freedom for all four of them, affixed with the seal of Arrin-Moag, Tarrag of the area.
"They be ones whom are not of this world, Kao. They are beings of immense power and knowledge. To some of our world, they may even be gods. They will bring peace unto us all," Barrat said, as he pulled his large form lithely into the saddle of a very black gelding next to Tasha.
"Then, let us go and meet these other worlders. I want to know these creatures whom will bring peace to our world," Tressa scoffed. She believed nothing that the Druid prophesied. She loved Kao blindly, even as short a time as she knew him. She would die for Kao, and he would for her. A peaceful world for their child to grow in was a mystical illusion.