Page 62 of Warrior’s Lady

"Is there no way to put the man somewhere more private? If news of this gets out — Lady Violet could be in terrible danger," Rhiannon said, her anxiety growing.

"Since James and Clara's deaths and Lord Lockhart's return with her body, there has been talk among the staff about the Charm Stone and its connection to the Lockhart clan. Everyone wants to witness the magic that cost Lady Clara her life. Those who have seen the Charm Stone used before say there is no witchcraft involved. Those who haven't want to see it for themselves." Mistress Faulkner's gaze narrowed on Rhiannon. "If you know what's good for you, you'll not turn them away. They wish to be present during a miracle."

"This is not wise," Orrin said from right behind them.

"Do we have another choice?" Rhiannon asked, wanting his advice more than ever.

"With so many of our warriors gone, there are not enough of us left to enforce rule should they grow restless." He eyed the growing crowd. "But I'm not sure insisting on privacy is the better choice. The Stone was spoken of — and they want to see it in practice."

"Heaven help us, for Lady Violet doesn't know how to use the Stone."

"I know its secrets," Orrin said, escorting them through the crowd to the hearth. "The Stone should be dipped into a mug of liquid three times then swirled to the right. Lady Lockhart always ended each use by making the sign of the cross over the body she'd just healed."

Rhiannon knelt down beside Rhys who lay so still before the hearth. Blood seeped from his newly bandaged wound. She pressed a thick length of linen atop the bandages, hoping to further slow the bleeding. "There's no incantation? No ceremony?"

"None."

She frowned. "How is any of that considered witchcraft?"

"It's not." He scooted Violet toward the man. "Be done with this thing before they realize what you are doing."

Rhiannon nodded at Violet's questioning gaze. Rhiannon grabbed the mug of ale the women had brought to the man "We must hurry, Violet. Do as Orrin instructed."

The little girl nodded. She bent over the mug of wine. Quickly, she withdrew the Stone from her gown. She dipped the Charm Stone in the amber-colored liquid three times, then swirled the talisman to the right. Once done, she made the sign of the cross over the man as her mother had done. She wiped the Stone on her hem, then handed it to Rhiannon who tucked the Stone safely into a small pocket inside her gown's skirt.

Someone in the room must have noticed the movements near the hearth. A shout went out across the room, "Prepare for a miracle."

A hush settled over the great hall. With fingers trembling at the audacity of what they dared, Rhiannon brought the mug of ale to the man's lips. "Drink, Rhys." She'd heard Orrin call him by that name. "You must drink."

Rhys tried to lift his head, but could not. Every eye in the chamber rested on her, Rhiannon slipped her hand beneath Rhys' head. She lifted both the cup and the man's head until the two connected and forced the "charmed" liquid past his lips. He swallowed roughly before a spasm of coughing overtook him. Several tense moments passed before he ceased coughing. Blood trickled out his nose and down his chin.

The room was cloaked in silence, as if no one dared to make a sound for fear that the Charm Stone would somehow fail them.

"You must take more liquid," Rhiannon pleaded softly for his ears alone, forcing the liquid past his lips once more. This time he swallowed smoothly. He took another sip, then another until the liquid was gone. Rhiannon sat back.

"What happens now?" Violet asked from her perch near Rhiannon.

"We wait," she replied, forcing a reassuring smile.

"How long?

"As long as it takes." She patted the young girl's hand with confidence even as doubts plagued her. The man was so close to death. Could anything save him?

"Give it time."

Time was something this man did not have. Yet time itself seemed to stretch out endlessly before them as they waited, watched, and prayed.