Page 52 of An Unlikely Knight

Glancing toward the pitcher, Padriag closed his eyes. “Water please.”

He waited for Liam to pour water and bring him a cup. He drained it and held it out for a refill. “Is there any food left?”

“I’ll cook something,” Liam said. “First let me look at your wounds and clean them.”

For what seemed like an eternity, Liam meticulously cleaned his wounds adding a poultice to help keep infection away, then wrapped Padriag’s upper half with strips of fabric cut from a thin blanket.

It was only after helping him into a tunic that fell to his knees that Liam helped Padriag to one of the overstuffed chairs and then pulled a small table close.

The aroma of whatever bubbled on the wood stove made Padriag’s mouth water. The bowl of steaming stew Liam placed on the table brought actual tears to his eyes.

“Can you see about the aurochs? I am not sure if they have any feed or water,” Padriag asked.

Despite obviously wishing to know what had occurred that left Padriag so injured, Liam stood and left the house. Alone again, Padriag sagged. Grateful did not begin to describe what he’d been through at the moment. If not for Liam, he wasn’t sure how long he would have had to wait before being able to walk to fetch water and food for himself. He would have forced himself, but it would have been slow going.

When Liam returned, he lowered across from him. “They had feed left, but I had to refill their water. I’ll let them out in the morning.” The Brit shook his head. “They are menacing creatures. The way their eyes shine will take time to get used to.”

“You can’t stay,” Padriag stated. “It’s too dangerous. I am certain Meliot will send his minions again. I am sure the only reason I was released was so that I can suffer more, having to take care of myself.”

“He didn’t ask about me?” Liam gave him a quizzical look. “As far as we know, he is not aware my curse was broken.”

“He did. I told him you’d gone to Esland. Since it wasn’t exactly a lie, he believed it.”

“What else did he ask about?”

Padriag met Liam’s pale blue eyes. “He insists there is a tear in the wall between the realms. He demanded I tell him where it is. I overheard him telling one of the guards that he had to be the first to find it.”

Liam’s eyebrows flew upward. “If that is true, he wants to be able to go to the other side. To wreak havoc there, to spread his darkness.”

“That would be bad.” Padriag was aware ‘bad’ was a vast understatement. If Meliot was able to move between the realms, he could possibly gain more power through the energy of the gateway. If it happened, the warlock would be unstoppable.

“I am here to stay,” Liam said motioning to a large sack on the end of the table. “It’s been foretold that all of us must return if we are to stop him.”

Ire rose and Padriag pushed his bowl away. “It could be that you and the others return only to die. Don’t do it. Please go back and keep the others from coming.”

“I believe the tides are turning. Everything is in motion for what comes and what happens next is part of a larger plan. We cannot stop what must be. The others will come even against their will. No one can stop the progression of what is foretold.”

Rolling his eyes, Padriag looked at Liam. “You ruined the entire delivery of your little speech. Should have put on a hooded cloak and added a cackle at the end.”

“There is something you should know,” Liam said ignoring his comment. “A man called Gunther came to Scotland, the castle, with a message.”

“That Viking looking man is who helped me escape. This must be his cottage. I don’t trust him,” Padriag replied. “What did he say?”

“He appeared outside, scaring Aubrey, Erin’s cousin, half to death. He informed her that you were injured and required help.”

“I still don’t trust him,” Padriag insisted. “I believe the only reason they let me go was so that I can suffer through healing and then they’d come for me again.”

“Aubrey said he seemed genuinely concerned for you.” The Brit got up and served himself stew. “Whether he is trustworthy or not, the man did come and ask that we help you.”

Padriag yawned. “I am going to try to get some sleep.”

“Drink this first,” Liam lifted a kettle from the stove and poured more of the same tea into a cup. “I assume the tea was left here by Gunther.”

“Probably,” Padriag quipped then drank every drop of tea.

Men talking woke Padriag the next day. By the brightness of the suns, he could tell it was late morning. Someone was there. Every movement was excruciating, like claws scraping down his back. When he finally managed to sit on the edge of the bed, bare feet on the floor, he had to take several breaths, willing the throbbing to stop.

Not that he stood a chance against an able-bodied opponent, still Padriag held a dagger in each hand as he slowly made his way to the voices. It was only after hearing a soft chuckle that he relaxed, recognizing it was Tristan.