The Warrior's Touch by Michelle Willingham Read Free Book Online Page A

wounds sewn and his hands splinted. Enough men had died in the past few moons from lack of care.
    Seamus did not respond to her remark, but directed his horse towards the sick hut. ‘I am going to bring him back to our rath. The new healer will look at him.’
    ‘And who is she?’ Aileen stiffened at the mention of her replacement.
    ‘Her name is Illona. She is the healer of the Ó Banníon tribe and has offered to share her skills with us, since our land borders are so close.’
    ‘Do you not realise that the Ó Banníon men did this to him?’ Aileen exploded. ‘How could you even think of letting that woman near him?’
    Surprise transformed Seamus’s face. ‘Has Connor said this?’
    ‘He has. And you should be wary before you let their healer near the tribesmen and women.’
    ‘Do not presume to tell me what I should or should not do, Aileen. He will leave the sick hut this night.’
    ‘He does not wish to see you. Not until he has healed.’
    ‘Then I will hear that from his own lips. Not yours.’ The chieftain’s tone turned threatening. ‘Have a care, Aileen. I did not bring your case before the brehons for judgment, though I could have. No one has forgotten what you did.’
    Hot tears swelled, but she held them back. He couldn’t forgive her, though, by Danu, she had done everything in her power. She had saved his only son’s life, two years ago, but even that could not erase Seamus’s grief. He was blind to everything but what he had lost.
    ‘I will speak with him now.’ Without waiting for a reply, Seamus spurred his mount forward.
    Aileen’s stomach churned, and she stood upon the hillside in view of the sick hut. Her limbs felt wooden, her steps weary.
    ‘Aileen, wait!’ a young voice called from behind her. She turned and saw Lorcan. His dark hair bobbed as he ran toward her, skidding to a halt.
    ‘What is it, Lorcan?’
    His small face held regret. ‘I am sorry. I shouldn’t have told him about the dead man.’ He shifted, studying the grass. ‘Well, I suppose he isn’t really dead.’
    ‘He would have been if you hadn’t brought me to him in the field that day.’ She reached out and tangled her fingers in his hair. ‘It’s all right.’
    ‘I didn’t mean to make him angry.’ He hugged her waist, looking up for forgiveness.
    ‘I know you didn’t.’ She released him. ‘Go on, then. You don’t want to get into trouble for speaking to me.’
    Lorcan scurried off, and at the sight of him, her heart warmed. Always she would think of him as her foster—son. It was easier to walk the journey home after his impulsive embrace.
    The sun nudged the horizon, rimming the land with gold. She walked slowly to her land, trying not to think about Seamus’s command. Her chance of redeeming herself as a healer was gone.
     
    Connor’s face burned with fever, his hands throbbing with pain. When the door to the sick hut opened again, he heard a familiar voice murmur, ‘What has she done to you, young Connor?’
    He raised his head and saw the face of his foster-father Seamus. Forcing a smile, he said, ‘Your healer Aileen has tied me to the bed, she has. I haven’t the strength to escape.’
    His jest met with Seamus’s bark of laughter. ‘Then let me rescue you, my lad. Our healer can look at you.’ His lined face drew downward with concern. ‘How did this happen?’
    ‘I was falsely accused of seducing the Ó Banníon’s daughter. His men crushed my hands.’
    Seamus cursed beneath his breath. ‘You can be assured I’ll be bringing this before the brehons .’
    Connor made no reply. ‘Later, perhaps.’ He gritted his teeth against the pain. ‘I understand you have a new healer.’
    ‘We do.’ He came closer and sat beside the pallet. ‘Illona Ó Banníon is her name.’
    Connor showed no emotion at the mention of the Ó Banníon name. It seemed a cruel trick of the gods, to send the enemy in the form of a healer. ‘I won’t be seeing her.’
    ‘I can understand your