Elysia heard what no one else would. If all was going well then something had happened that made Annis believe her mission would be successful. The message gave her hope.
“Annis is well?” she asked.
“She got a black eye saving me. He grinned wide. “But that guy with her sure made the fellow pay for it. The women can’t take their eyes off him but he can’t take his eyes off your sister. They’re a funny pair.”
Brogan was with Annis.
Elysia couldn’t be happier and more relieved to know Annis was not on her own. She didn’t know how Brogan happened to be with her, but it didn’t matter—he was there with her. She had someone to protect her.
“I need to go. I need to get to my mum,” Dugan said, standing.
“Let me get some food together for you,” Elysia said and sensed worry whenever he spoke about his mum. “You and your mum are welcome here in the clan. You’ll have food and shelter and, of course, your fair share of chores.”
Dugan’s eyes turned wide. “You mean that?”
“I do and I will help you and your mum any way I can,” Elysia offered.
“I’m strong. I can do any chore you give me,” Dugan said, puffing out his skinny chest.
“I’m sure you can, Dugan.” She handed him a sack packed with a good amount of food.
He went to grab it, then stopped. “What about you? You have enough food?”
Only someone who knew hunger would ask that of another and his concern touched her heart. “I have more than enough. Now go to your mum and don’t forget you’re both welcome to call Clan Loudon home.”
“Thanks,” he said and hurried to the door to rush out, though stopped suddenly and turned. “Thanks. Thanks so much.”
“Thank you, Dugan, for the message from my sister. It means a lot to me.”
Dugan smiled, his chest puffing out again with pride. He smiled, gave a nod, and was gone.
Elysia walked through the village toward her cottage. It had been a busy morning. After Dugan had left she had begun making her rounds of the wounded. Some men had healed quickly while others more slowly, but at least none had died. She feared losing even one of them, especially since they had fought so hard to live and their families had fought so hard to keep them alive.
Rain was imminent with the dark gray skies hovering overhead and she hastened her pace looking forward to doing some stitching for herself. Her cloak had suffered some tears as well as her shawl and her two tunics had several tears in them as well. She had to repair them soon or it would not be long before they were beyond repair.
“ATTACK! ATTACK!”
Elysia froze hearing the sudden and frantic warning shouts.
Men, young and old alike, ran out of the cottages, weapon in hand. Women scooped up bairns whether they belonged to them or not and ran to the woods. And those wounded, who were able, also wielded weapons.
Bram bolted out of Lendra’s cottage and seeing Elysia, shouted, “Get to the keep. You will be needed.”
Elysia nodded and was about to run when a troop of warriors rained down on the village with a tremendous roar. She ducked behind the nearest cottage to keep out of sight and try to make her way to the keep.
Warriors on horses pounded the earth and warriors on foot followed. Swords clashed, men cried out in pain, women in horror, and Elysia shut her eyes against the dreadful sounds. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, ready to run and get to the keep. She would be needed. There would be many to help.
She peeked around the corner of the cottage and felt her stomach roil at the chaotic fighting and blood, far too much blood. She was about to try and slip behind another cottage to get closer to the keep when she spotted Kevin felled by a heavy blow.
Elysia didn’t hesitate, she darted between cottages to get closer, then darted out when an opening presented itself. When she finally managed to reach him, Elysia yanked her cloak off and tore a strip off the edge to wipe the blood off Kevin’s face and see to his wound. It came from a slash in his head. It wasn’t deep and she remembered Bliss saying that head wounds bled a lot and if not deep, not a worry, though if the person didn’t wake soon, then it didn’t always bode well for survival.
With men fighting not far from them, she hurried to wrap the wound with a fresh strip of cloth from her cloak and was relieved when Kevin moved his head.
“Kevin, it’s Elysia. You need to move now.”
He groaned. “How bad?’
“A head wound that is not as bad as it seems. Now up on your feet,” she urged, slipping her arm beneath his shoulder.