Helena was troubled by her brother’s visit. Something was wrong, and she could not quite put her finger on it. She had not wanted to relinquish the rune so easily, but she could easily get it back had she a mind. It would be safe enough for now. The Abbess had recognized the old Norse rune at once and understood its significance. It would have been no use in putting up a fight and drawing attention to it. There would be time for all things. Now she must visit the girl and try to find out the truth.
Andrea was slightly dozing as Helena entered the room, but the sound of her feet on the stone flagged floor stirred her awake. The candles had burned low, and the shadow of the Abbess loomed large across the room. She shivered and sat up, wrapping the bed clothes around her. The fire had burned down into nothing but grey ash and smoke.
“You are feeling better, I hear?”
In the darkness, Andrea felt disarmed and slightly afraid. There was something about the stealthy black figure that unnerved her, and at this hour her feelings intensified.
“Yes, I had a good talk with Alex, and I feel much better after resting.”
“Yet he did not stay?”
The question was almost a threat.
For once, Andrea was glad of the semi darkness where she could hide her expression. She felt exposed and knew she had to be careful with her words.
“I am still very tired, and Alex thought it best to leave me to lie alone tonight. I will see him in the morning.”
“He seemed troubled when he spoke to me, his mind heavy. That is not good for a man who will be riding into battle in a few days time. If he is distracted and worried about his wife, he may come to harm, even be killed. A warrior needs all his strength and focus upon the task ahead, not back at home with an ailing wife.”
The words were cold and clear in their meaning. Andrea hardly knew the man but nonetheless felt a deep empathy with him and would hate to be the cause of his downfall. Maybe she had spoken too openly with him, but she needed an ally in this strange place and he was her only hope.
“I will be feeling much better after another night’s sleep. I will speak with him tomorrow and all will be well.”
“It will need more than talk if I know my brother. He needs to find comfort in your bed.”
Andrea could feel herself blushing at the thought but nodded her head.
“He can be with me tomorrow.”
Helena did not speak, taking in the words from the girl. As long as her brother left without worries, then she would be happy. She cared little for the girl herself. Walking to the chest, she picked up the flask and poured more of the potion into the goblet and handed it across.
“Here, take this. You will rest easily.”
Reluctantly, she drank the liquid, which had the same bitter herb taste as before. Helena watched until she had taken the last drop and only when her eyes start to droop did the black figure exit the room, locking the door behind her.
Andrea’s dreams were as dark as the night. In the middle of a misty and forlorn battlefield, a distant bugle could be heard calling the fallen souls to their peace. As the sound of the horn diminished, another sound could be heard, growing steadily louder; it was the ghostly wail of a lone piper, the rasping of the pipes echoing the sound of a thousand men’s last gasping breath.
She could see the piper approaching, a long cloak covering him from head to toe. The nearer he walked, the more deafening the bagpipes, until she had to hold her hands over her ears to blot out the sound. Almost upon her, the noise stopped and an eerie silence prevailed as a thin hand rose from beneath the long cloak, pulling away the hood that shielded the face. She looked on in horror at the visage of the dead Alexhander McDonald, the maggots already eating the sallow flesh, his eyes white and glassy.
Andra was soaked with perspiration as she woke up with a start. The dream had been too real, too horrid, and her heart was beating fast. The words of Helena rang in her head; she could not let the poor man ride into battle with a heavy heart and to his probable death. It was almost as if his fate were in her hands.
Alex did not sleep well and spent most of the night wondering what to do. He needed to know more, to understand what was happening. He could no longer turn away and pretend that these strange things were not so or simply the imaginings of a feeble mind, whatever his sister might think. Tomorrow he would ask the young girl about his beloved Andra and try to find the answers.