“There is no rule that troubles only come to us one at a time,” I heard Northgyth say. “Indeed, we have troubles aplenty now. But Yllfa, ah, I must try and unravel the threads that seek to bind her if she is to emerge as the woman she needs to be.”
“We will not lose her, my friend,” That was the warm, motherly tone of Ymma. “We are a match for this ill, and have Waelden and dear Ethel giving their best.”
For a moment I could smell a rich, runny honey cake nearby. I licked my lips. There was warmth and love around me. I had a fever, but was in no pain.
“Choose!”
I turned my head to view the speaker.
It was recognisably Northgyth, but of a different appearance to usual. The tall, stately woman was sterner of face. Her blue eyes shone more brightly than I had ever seen. Like ice fires they were. Her gaze was fixed on me.
Her silver-white hair was braided and clasped on her head with fine but plain wooden combs. Her robe was a light gray of hue, whereas it had been brown, I thought.
“Choose, Yllfa” She spoke again, her eyes turning to the left, and to what was no longer the infirmary, but a dawn-lit wooded glade among rocks. “Even as you were chosen.”
Before me lay over a dozen cloaks, placed on grass and rock. Most were recognisable of rohirric design. Two were not.
She spoke not again. I could sense her intent.
“I have already made my choice,” I replied, rising to my feet. I was a little unsteady, yet felt remarkably alive. “I made that over two years ago. You know that.”
Still the ice-blue eyes were on me. Like the matriarch of my family line, biding me….chose again?
“Nay.” I said firmly.
There was blood on my under robe, on my flesh. Warm, sticky. I shook with surprise, for I felt no discomfort. It was not my blood?
I was again in the infirmary in Bancross. The room was dark. It smelled of wooded incense, and moss. It smelt of damp wolf.
A honeyed gentled voice broke through the mist. “Do not fear, dear one. But please, do as we ask.”
Placing a hand to my side I felt a furred presence close against me. My mind reached out to Isa.
My wolf was injured?
She was breathing raggedly, her muzzle pushed under my arm, that I could feel her warmth in my heart. But she was trembling. The blood was from her.
Instinctively I reached out for those other two who were intrinsically part of my life now. Ethel I still deemed too young to bear my problems, and I would ever seek to protect her even from myself. But Waelden knew what I was, as well as I did. To him I reached out. “We are both injured.”
“Hmmm,” I could feel Northgyth’s gaze, even if it was too dark to see her.
“It’s as I suspected. Four strands. Bring me the sword.”
