“Not too long after his arrival. Keep him talking, but then there is much you have to say to him. I will let you know when the time is right.”

Snow recognized that voice. It was Fasta.

She quickly covered what had come out of her stomach with snow so that no one could see what she had done. She knew she hadn’t gotten all of it. But she prayed she had gotten enough so that it wouldn’t do her or the bairn harm.

She rolled on her other side, whimpering so that they thought her weak, and scooped up some snow to rub on her face and to help clear the sleep that lingered in her.

Not too long after his arrival.

They had to have been talking about her husband.

Tarass would come for her. He would rescue her like he always did.

Snow only hoped that if what they had forced down her throat was meant to kill her, that she wouldn’t die before she had a chance to tell her husband she loved him one last time.

Tarass sped through the village, Slatter following not far behind.

Tarass was the first to enter the cottage. Helga was there, her eyes filled with fright.

“I found them like this,” Helga said, a tremble in her voice.

Both Willow and Runa lay on the earth-floor, but Snow was nowhere to be seen.

“Willow!” Slatter called out when he saw his wife crumpled on the floor. He lifted her gently and sat on one of the chairs to cradle her in his arms. Fury raced through him when he saw the lump on the side of her head. Someone had hit her, knocking her out.

Fear at not seeing his wife had Tarass wanted to run out and search for her, but that wouldn’t be wise. He needed to keep his head about him no matter how much fear threatened him.

He turned to see Rannock standing at the open door. “Send the trackers and a group of warriors to follow them, and find where the tracks lead.”

Rannock nodded and hurried out, Helga following after him.

Tarass quickly looked around and saw Thaw laying on his side by the hearth. He went to the pup and shook him. He didn’t move but was grateful the pup was still breathing.

He turned to Slatter. “Willow still breathes?”

“Aye, she does,” Slatter said, relieved and began to tap gently at his wife’s face. “Wake up, Willow. I need you to wake up. You must wake up.”