He glanced at Riona, whose face was pale. ‘Until Samhain, I will grant you the right to be our healer once more. If you prove your worth, you may remain as such.’
‘No!’ Riona burst out. Rigid pain creased her eyes, her face white with emotion. ‘You cannot let her, Seamus. Not after what happened to my sons. They died because of her.’
Aileen shook her head, unable to speak. She recognised the raw grief, the mother’s pain. If something happened to Rhiannon, would she not feel the same? There were no words to take away Riona’s anger. Only time could heal it.
Seamus took Riona’s hand, caressing it. ‘You need not fear,a ghrá. She’ll not harm anyone.’
He leaned forward, his face fierce with warning. ‘But one death during your trial period, Aileen, and you will leave us. Is that understood?’
‘I am not God. I cannot prevent a natural death,’ she argued, extinguishing the hope rising within her. ‘If a man’s soul is called, I can do nothing.’
‘No deaths brought by your own hand.’
‘You ask the impossible. No healer can make such a promise.’
‘Then I will send for someone else.’
‘You would force me to leave, if I fail?’
‘I would.’ His stern countenance convinced her of it. ‘Until you prove yourself, our people believe you to be cursed. They’ll not trust you again, if aught goes wrong. I cannot say what they would do to you. It would be for your own protection.’
Aileen felt as though she were clinging to the edge of a crevasse. She wanted so badly to accept his offer, this second chance. But if she failed during the trial period, she might have to leave her home and family.
The memory of the storyteller’s death haunted her. Though she had not seen any signs of the pox as of yet, it might come.
And if it did, there was no one else to help them, save herself. More folk would die if she did not agree. There was no choice but to accept Seamus’s offer. Though it was a grave risk and only for a short while, she needed to be a healer again. ‘I will do it,’ she whispered.
‘I beg of you, Seamus,’ Riona intervened. ‘Think of what happened to our sons.’
‘That was not her doing,’ Connor interrupted, placing his hand upon Aileen’s shoulder. ‘Do not blame her for their deaths.’
Warmth blossomed inside her at his reassuring touch. It meant a great deal, hearing him defend her skills.
‘She ruined Whelon’s life as well.’ Riona’s face grew enraged. ‘He was meant to be a leader like his father. What else is left for him, if he cannot fight?’ She began to weep quiet tears.
Connor exchanged glances with Aileen and stood. He put an arm around Riona and spoke softly to her. Aileen did not hear what was said, but the words must have brought Riona comfort. The older woman wiped her eyes, her pallor ghostly white. ‘Forgive me,’ she said. ‘I will return in a moment.’
Seamus’s shoulders lowered as he stared at the corridor where his wife had departed. ‘It hurts her still. She mourns the boys and cannot abide to look at Whelon.’
‘But Whelon lives,’ Aileen said softly. ‘You have that.’
Weariness cloaked Seamus. ‘It is not enough for her.’
He signalled for two servants to bring basins of water.
Sitting beside Connor, she caught his glance. Though another servant’s hands moved across her feet, her skin erupted in goose bumps. Connor’s silver eyes grew heated, and she thought of his hands upon her. As if to rekindle the vision, he covered her hand in his.
She breathed in deeply, inhaling his clean male scent. Awareness of him slipped beneath her defences. Beside him she felt small. Though he’d been injured, his frequent training exercises kept his body strong. His chest filled every inch of the tunic he wore, and she sensed the power radiating from him. On a battleground, he must have been a formidable opponent.
Before she could collect her thoughts, the servants dried their feet and they walked barefoot upon a straw mat to the cushions lining the floor.
Riona returned, her eyes reddened from weeping. She stood beside her husband, who handed her a silver goblet. ‘Please, sit down,’ she bade them.
The low table was covered in cloth, and they accepted two goblets of wine. Aileen took a sip, and the sweet blend took her by surprise.
‘Where did you get this? It is the best wine I’ve ever tasted.’
‘I traded for it,’ Seamus admitted with pride. ‘A man came from Saxony, and a finer wine I’ve never tasted.’
