He nodded slowly. “Runa is dead… by her own hand. It took little persuading to get her to confess. She told Rannock and me that her father had paid three men to help them. They helped with the pools of blood. All the blood came from animals they killed in the woods, except for a small amount from Finn. She posed as the dwarf and helped fake Fasta’s miscarriage, hoping it would put fear into Snow, and more fright into the clan, but she hadn’t counted on Snow’s courage that left the village praising her bravery. It also served another purpose. It gave Fasta an excuse to be absent from the keep so she could finalize plans with the culprits.”
“Now I know how Thaw knew it was Runa… the smell. Snow had told me she had smelled a terrible odor when the dwarf was near her when Fasta had supposedly suffered a miscarriage. I wonder if it was something that caused Fasta to lose some blood, since Runa was about to do the same to my wife. Thaw had smelled the foul odor that night as well as just moments ago in my bedchamber.”
“You were suspicious of someone when you rushed into the keep?” Slatter asked.
“Twilla.”
Slatter thought a few moments. then nodded. “It all falls into place now. I would guess the man who caused all the harm was Twilla’s son who wasn’t dead after all, and you thought she had helped him.”
“You’re good at puzzles, but this is one puzzle that will remain a mystery to others. The only thing anyone needs to know is that it was a man from the far north looking for revenge against me for a previous battle fought.”
“What about Twilla? Are you sure she doesn’t know anything?”
“My da told me to trust her more than anyone, that she knew and kept family secrets. She kept the secret all these years about Fay and her son and she truly believed them in love. So, no, I don’t believe she knew the truth about her son. I think if she had, it would have broken her heart.”
The door to the bedchamber opened.
Willow stood in the doorway with tears in her eyes.
Slatter went to her and took her in his arms.
Tarass stood, placing Thaw on the floor beside him, and they both looked to Willow.
Willow choked back the tears. “Snow lost quite a bit of blood and if it wasn’t for her quick actions of ridding herself of a good portion of the brew they forced down her throat, she would not be alive now.”
Tarass went to enter the room.
“She sleeps and she needs rest,” Willow said. “Nettle and I will keep watch over her throughout the night to make sure there is no more bleeding. If it remains that way, I believe she will do well along with rest and food to replenish her strength.”
Twilla approached them. “There is little for me to do here. Snow is in excellent hands with Willow and Nettle.” She placed a hand on Tarass’s arm. “Snow is strong. I have no doubt she’ll survive this and you will have many bairns in the years to come. Your father would be proud of the honorable man you’ve become.”
Slatter sent a quick nod to Tarass as if acknowledging that he was right about Twilla. She didn’t know anything.
“I will sit with my wife as well,” Tarass said.
“There is nothing you can do for her,” Willow said.
“There is,” Tarass said. “I can be there with her.”
It was morning when Snow woke to see her husband sleeping in a chair as well as Willow. Tears filled her eyes in relief and sorrow. The memory of losing the bairn tore at her heart until she feared it would rip her in two. Though, she knew there’d be other bairns, it didn’t help ease her current heartache. The one thing that did soothe the hurt was to see her husband there, alive and well, and to feel Thaw cuddled against her side.
Thaw rose with a stretch, stuck his face in hers, and licked her cheek.
Snow smiled and hugged him to her, kissing his snout and the top of his head, and admired what a fine looking dog he was. Her sisters had done an excellent job in describing him to her. He looked just as they had said, brown with black paws, and an adorable face, though it was so nice seeing him for herself.
She hurried to turn her attention on Tarass, seeing him clearly, though her vision could turn fuzzy at times. The fine features he had as a young lad having matured him into a handsome man. One that women would take great pleasure in admiring, but he belonged to her and no other.
His eyes sprang open suddenly and the bold blue color startled her. They were so much bolder in color than she had remembered. They intimidated and appealed all at once, and she almost chuckled. If she hadn’t been able to keep her hands off him when she was blind, how would she ever do so now that she could see how wickedly handsome and appealing he was?