Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Elara heard it then, bootsteps, firm and measured.
The door swung open and Dar strode into the Great Hall with the effortless command of a man accustomed to being obeyed. The morning light cut across his broad shoulders and the dark leather he still wore, marking him unmistakably as a Hunter. Yet his eyes, those storm-gray eyes, softened the moment they found hers.
He crossed the space with powerful strides, the kind that drew more than a few curious glances from those seated nearby. Even Adira watched him warily.
Elara rose when he reached her, heat fluttering unexpectedly through her chest.
“You came sooner than I thought,” she said.
He cast a quick glance at her plate, only half the food eaten. “You haven’t finished your meal.”
“I have eaten enough to satisfy me,” she assured him. “But you need to eat.”
“I have,” he said abruptly. “We leave shortly.”
Sooner than he had said and Elara saw how anxious he was to do so. Did he fear staying longer than needed? Did he worry the king would make more demands on them? Or was his worry for her, since his gaze kept sweeping protectively over her?
She nodded, more than willing to take their leave as soon as possible, but first there was something she needed to see to.
“I must find Maelis before we leave. I want to make sure she’s all right… and that she’s being sent home to Birkfell.”
“The Hunters are gathering the healers now. The first group will leave within the hour. I’ll take you to her, but you cannot linger.”
Relief brought a soft smile to Elara’s face. “I won’t. I just want to make sure she is well and soon to go home.”
He reached for her hand, the gesture instinctive, protective. “Come. If she hasn’t already been taken to the carts, she will be soon.”
As his fingers closed around hers, warm and steady, Adira watched them, a faint, soft smile spreading across her face, and Feena offered Elara a reassuring nod.
Elara returned it, then let Dar lead her from the Great Hall, her pulse quickening at both the urgency of their errand… and the man at her side.
The courtyard behind the castle hummed with movement, healers gathering in groups, carts waiting, horses stomping restlessly, and the king’s warriors barking commands.
Dar led Elara through the bustle, his hand remaining locked with hers. When they reached a wagon draped with wool blankets, he halted.
A young Hunter hurried toward him. “Commander Dar,” he called, breathless, “the king summons you.”
Dar’s jaw tightened in annoyance as he turned to Elara, his voice firm. “Wait here. Here, Elara. Do not wander. Do not go anywhere without me. I will have your word on it.”
“You have my word,” she said. “I will be here looking for Maelis.”
His gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat longer, as if unsure whether he should leave her, then he turned to the young Hunter. “Make haste and take me to the king.”
He strode off, his gait swift and determined.
Elara turned her attention to the line of carts and healers preparing for departure, her eyes darting over every weary face. Then she saw her, leaning against the side of a wool-covered cart as though bracing her tired limbs, her familiar shawl slipping from one shoulder, her hair pulled back in a loose knot.
“Maelis,” Elara called out, her voice catching painfully in her throat as she rushed forward only to bump into one of the king’s warriors.
“Watch where you go,” he snapped, his eyes shifting suspiciously over her.
Unease rippled through her and she kept her head lowered as she nodded and hurried around him to call out once again, “Maelis.”
The older healer lifted her head. Her aged-eyes widened, filling with disbelief first, then a tremble of emotion so raw it nearly undid Elara. Maelis pushed away from the cart with more speed than her frail frame should allow and hurried toward her.
“Elara… by the gods, Elara,” she whispered, pulling her tightly into her arms.
Elara clung to her, burying her face against the shoulder that had often offered her comfort when she missed her clan. She felt the shudder that ran through Maelis’s thin body, the kind of tremble that came after too much fear held inside for too long was released.
“I thought you dead,” Maelis murmured, her voice cracking. “I prayed every night I was wrong.”
“I feared the same for you,” Elara whispered back.
They stood like that for several long moments, neither willing to let go, until the sound of soft sobs and murmured relief surrounded them. A handful of healers had gathered, forming a small circle of warmth and familiarity around the two of them. Faces Elara remembered from gatherings in Leighfeld, women who had eagerly wanted to learn all they could about new herbs from her and how they blended, forming new combinations that the herb-scribes had discovered. The women looked upon her with expressions of pure, unguarded relief.