The old woman dipped the twig she held into the blue concoction and trailed it from Brie’s left shoulder down past her breast to a spot just below her belly button, ending in a curled flourish. Chill bumps rose on Brie’s skin as the liquid settled to dry. A second dip into the dye and Orabilis painted a mirror image of the first marking, starting this time at Brie’s right shoulder.
In what felt to Brie like hours that followed, Orabilis adorned Brie’s arms, legs, and back with a series of intricate symbols. When she at last stepped back to assess her work, Brie sagged with relief.
“I felt as though we’d never finish.”
Orabilis grinned, flashing her perfect white teeth. “We’re no yet done, my fine lassie. We’ve yer face yet to go. Have a seat so that I can reach you.”
As ridiculous as it seemed, after having the whole of her body covered in the symbols, the idea of marking her face set a rush of apprehension churning in her stomach. She shuttered off the desire to escape what was about to happen. This was her choice. Her request. Her path.
What did it matter, anyway? She’d never been vain about her looks. She braided her hair to keep it out of her face, and she wore whatever was close at hand and comfortable. Her appearance didn’t matter in the least. It was of no concern what anyone who looked at her would think. She did this for an honorable cause. A necessary cause. It would give her the strength to do what needed doing.
“In ancient times, yer people looked upon these markings as a sign of beauty as well as protection,” Orabilis said as she drew the first stroke above Brie’s eye.
“It’s a small matter,” Brie murmured, doing her best to hold back the bewildering tears that blurred her vision.
Thanks to the detail of the symbols on her face and neck, Orabilis took almost as long to finish that as she had to adorn Brie’s entire body.
“I’m glad that’s done,” Orabilis said at last. With a sigh, she laid down her bowl and twig. “I’m fair worn-out. I’ve a small mirror if you’d like to see what we’ve accomplished.”
“No.”
She might know it was there, but seeing it would be a different matter altogether. Seeing it would make it real. And as weirdly emotional as she felt at the moment,realwas not something she wanted to face.
Orabilis shrugged and toddled over to the corner where their blankets lay in two neat stacks. “In that case we’re done here, and I, for one, need some sleep. I assume you’ll leave early?”
“At first light,” Brie confirmed, reaching for her shift and dropping it down over her head. “I’m going to check on Hall before I turn in.”
He slept still, though restlessly, his head turning from side to side as if he tried to escape some torment that plagued his dreams. Fever would do that to a man.
Brie sat down next to him and laid her palm to his forehead. His skin burned under her touch. She dipped a cloth into the bowl of water beside his bed and touched it first to his lips before laying it across his forehead.
“I leave tomorrow morning,” she whispered, overcome with the need to share her plans with him. “Orabilis says we need the scrolls to ensure yer recovery. I will find Mathew MacFalny and the scrolls he carries, and I will bring them back.”
“Bridget.”
Her name left his lips on a whisper so faint, she wasn’t sure it wasn’t just her imagination.
“I’m here, Hall. Right by yer side.”
Whether or not he could hear her, she wanted to reassure him.
“Where is Bridget?” he asked, his eyes fluttering open to stare at her, bereft of any recognition. “I’d have her here with me.”
He swiped the cloth from his forehead and she replaced it, laying a hand to his chest. Under her fingers, his heart pounded wildly.
“Lie still and settle yer mind. Bridget will return shortly.”
He calmed with that reassurance, closing his eyes once more, though his heart continued to race.
She dipped the cloth into the cool water and gently wiped it over his cheeks and neck, wishing it would have some effect on the heat that wracked his body.
Before she left the room, she bent over him and softly touched her lips to his forehead.
“I willna let you down, Hall O’Donar. I pledge it to you by the lives of the Seven. I will find the scrolls, and I will return to you.”
And woe unto any who thought to stand in her way.
Twenty
