Page 33 of Love Beyond Words
“No.” He shook his head as he shifted in his bed. It was impossible to get comfortable with the ache in his ribs. “I dinna. I’m sorry. Calder’s departure means bad things for all of us.”
Quinn nodded as they all gathered around his bed.
“Aye, there is no question about that, but we doona have the luxury of dwelling on it. Nor do we have the time to mourn Timothy’s death with ye as we wished to. As ye know, we saw him buried shortly after his death. Ye must say goodbye to him on yer own time now.”
He’d hoped they would all have a chance to reminisce about their old friend, to bid him farewell properly, but Raudrich understood Quinn’s urgency. With each new event at the castle, their time became all the more precious.
“Aye, I shall visit his grave as soon as I can walk without crying out in pain, which I’m afraid may be weeks now that Calder is gone.”
“No.”
Harry’s sure voice surprised him. Healing magic was exhausting. With his magic too weakened by the frail state of his body, they couldn’t risk the strain that such an act would place on the remaining five.
“What do ye mean, no? I’ll heal as quickly as I can, but I doona know how I can rush it.”
Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. Raudrich could see by the stern gaze in his eyes that his mind was already made up.
“We canna wait weeks for ye to heal. If Calder truly means to leave, he will begin to look for a way to break his bind with us. Should he succeed before ye are healed, none of us can know the strength it would give Machara. ’Tis better for us to all let our magic be weakened for a day or two now than for us to be without the magic of three of the eight in a few week’s time. Ye willna be able to wield all of yer own power until yer body is healed. We shall pool our energy now and make tomorrow a day of rest for all of us so we might regain our strength before we determine what must be done next.”
Raudrich couldn’t deny that such a plan appealed to him. He wanted his body back, and if they could, his sight, as well.
“If ye all wish to do this, I willna fight ye on it. With my eyes, and now this, I havena felt like myself for far too long. Timothy’s death has placed a strain on all our magic. It willna take long for Calder to begin to feel the ill-effects of being away from the castle.”
Maddock’s angry voice spoke beside him.
“Then may he lose his sight completely and much more quickly than ye lost yers.”
All of the men looked at Maddock in question, but before he could say more, Harry stood.
“Then, let us begin, lads. Should this work, Raudrich, ye may have to be the one to finish dinner for I doona know if the rest of us will be able to stay standing afterwards.”
Raudrich laughed as the men formed the necessary circle around him.
“If ye succeed at healing my ribs, my nose, and my sight, I shall wait on ye all hand and foot for a fortnight, at least.”
Ludo laughed and Raudrich shifted so he could lie down completely on the bed. The healing was bound to be unpleasant, and he needed to prepare himself for the pain.
“Doona make promises ye have no intention of keeping. We all know that by this time tomorrow, ye will be ordering us about. Ye will have no sympathy for our exhaustion.”
Ludo was probably right about that. Serving as laird for the past two years in Allen territory had made him bossy. It would take time for him to grow used to an equal partnership with the other men again.
Energy built in the room as they started to chant. It didn’t take long for the pain to begin to sear through his body. Try as he might to swallow his screams, they wouldn’t stay inside him.
It was horrific. No matter how much he screamed at them to stop, they continued their chant.
He wished he would pass out, but as the pain raged on, he remained awake, feeling the shift of every bone and every pull of his skin.
Only as his vision cleared and he was able to make out the beams across the ceiling was he able to relax into the pain.
As soon as they were finished, it would all be worth it.
Chapter 19
True to his word, Raudrich worked in the kitchen finishing their meal while the rest of the men rested. He had more energy than he’d had in months.
His ribs were still sore—a garish bruise spread all the way down his left side—but blessedly, they were no longer broken. His nose was as straight as it ever had been, and his vision was completely healed.
The only thing putting a damper on his mood was the anticipation of the hard time the men would give him over the quality of their meal. He’d not had cooking duty in over two years, and it showed.
