“Something wrong?” Willow asked.

“I don’t know,” Snow said, and shook her head again and as she did, she saw Thaw laying on his side as if lifeless.

She turned to her sister. “Something is wrong. My head grows foggy and…” she couldn’t get the words out and her head had grown too heavy to hold up so she laid it on the table.

“Snow!” Willow hurried to her feet to see to her sister when the door burst open.

Tarass and Slatter entered the Great Hall and sat at a table by the hearth to enjoy some ale.

“Fasta couldn’t have gotten far. The ground is too heavily covered with snow,” Slatter said. “It took double the time it would normally take for Willow and me to get here. And now that you’ve picked up her tracks, it won’t be long before you find her and have your answers.”

“Unless she’s already met up with her cohorts,” Tarass said. “She couldn’t possibly have done this on her own. There has to be others.”

“True, though the tracks were fresh which means she hadn’t left too long ago and you could reach her before she reaches the other culprits,” Slatter said.

Both men turned when Rannock and Nettle entered the Great Hall, their cheeks flushed from the cold or at least that’s what Tarass surmised, not so Slatter.

“I’d say they got to know each other much better,” Slatter said with a chuckle.

“Nettle, where is Lady Snow?” Tarass called out, concerned he hadn’t seen his wife since this morning when she went with Willow to talk with Runa, and it was now mid-day.

“She hasn’t returned from her visit with Runa yet?’ Nettle asked with concern.

“That seems long for the two to be gone,” Slatter said, getting to his feet.

Tarass stood as well.

Rannock and Nettle turned and headed for the door when it burst opened and the young lad, Roy, rushed in.

“Hurry! Hurry, my lord, there’s something wrong at the healer’s cottage!”

“She’s coming around. Force her to take it now, before she has the strength to fight you.”

Snow heard the man’s voice, but her head was too fuzzy to understand until someone pressed down on her shoulders, keeping her from moving, and hands were at her mouth, forcing it open, then something was poured down her throat. She tried to spit it out but more of the liquid was forced down her throat. When they finally released her, she turned on her side on the snow-covered ground and pretended to cry in between sticking her finger in her mouth to rid herself of whatever they had forced on her.

“How long?” the man with the commanding voice asked.