Fiona grinned. “Does it not? You requested a specific twin. Will you settle for less than what you bargained for?”
She rode off with a laugh and it brought a smile to his face. She was quick-witted and perceptive. Damned if she had not understood his pride in having the woman he had agreed upon.
“Raynor’s been captured!”
The yell drew everyone’s attention, and Tarr swiftly directed his stallion to converge upon the bloody man sprawled on the ground. He watched one of his warriors shove the twin away as she attempted to help Raynor. She shoved back, causing him to stumble, and dropped down on her knees beside Raynor.
As soon as the warrior had steadied his footing, Fiona had her sword at his throat. “Touch my sister again and it will be you who will need tending.”
“Sheath your sword,” Tarr said sternly as he swifty dismounted, grabbing Aliss’s arm and yanking her to her feet. “You will waste no time on Raynor.”
She jerked her arm free with such force that she stumbled, though hastily righted her footing. “He is severely injured; he needs immediate attention or he may die.”
“I care not,” Tarr spat. “He attacked my clan and suffers his own consequences.”
“I cannot just let him die when I have the skill to help him.”
“You would heal him so that I could hang him?”
“I would heal him and hope that you would have mercy and bring a senseless feud to an end.”
“Feud? I fight to protect what is mine,” Tarr said angrily.
“And he?” Aliss snapped. “Does he not do the same?”
“He is my enemy.”
“He is not my enemy,” she said firmly, and dropped to the ground to tend the unconscious man.
“We leave as soon as I see to my men. If Raynor cannot travel he remains behind to rot.” Tarr marched off, his warriors following.
Aliss’s attention remained on Raynor while she addressed her sister. “You know what to do.”
“I will see to it,” Fiona said, and with speed and skill born of experience she fashioned a hauler out of tree branches, grass, and moss and hooked it to her saddle with thick vines.
Aliss continued working on Raynor who remained unconscious.
“How bad is he?” Fiona asked.
“I am not certain. He suffered a wound to the head, which I have stitched, though much too swiftly. The rest of the blood on him is not his. I have cleansed what I could with what little water I have. I do not know if a fever will claim him before he wakes or if he will ever wake again.”
“You did what you could.”
“I will do more once we arrive at Tarr’s keep.”
“If he allows you,” Fiona reminded.
Aliss’s head shot up, her green eyes defiant. “I will see to his care regardless of Tarr of Hellewyk.”
“I doubt any one of Tarr’s men will lift a finger to help their enemy.”
“It matters not. You and I have moved a larger man.”
Fiona did not argue or object for in fact the man they had moved had been their ill father. With a blanket and much sweat and tears, they had gotten their father onto a bed they had fashioned on the floor in front of the hearth, and Aliss had made her first attempt at healing.
Raynor nearly matched Tarr’s height and though slimmer, his body was dense with muscle. His features were hard to distinguish from the blood that covered his face from his head wound. Aliss had cleaned him off as much as she could but much blood remained and was beginning to crust around his eyes, nose, and mouth. It would take a patient cleansing before he would be able to open his eyes, but that was the least of his worry.
Few survived a severe head injury, and the bumpy journey and a damp, dark cell would not help his recovery.
Aliss covered Raynor with her own blanket and had him ready to go before Tarr was prepared to depart.
“Tarr does not look happy,” Fiona warned as she watched him approach.
Aliss had just finished securing her healing pouch to her mare and turned to Tarr glaring down at her from his saddle. She glared back.
He looked from one twin to the other. “Hear me well, for my word is law. Raynor sealed his fate when he attacked my land. You attempt to heal a dead man.”
Tarr rode off with a loud snort from his horse punctuating his departure.
Aliss mounted her mare. “He has no heart and soul. It is good you will not wed him.”
“He is a stubborn one,” Fiona said as they slowly joined the procession of warriors, though this time they were left to follow.
Aliss groaned. “Do not tell me that now you find him appealing?”
“I find him interesting.”
“Nay, you find him a challenge.”
“A man should be a challenge,” Fiona insisted. “I could not abide a spineless man, one who would find my strength intimidating.”
“Tarr is more than a challenge.”
Fiona grinned like a child with a naughty secret. “I know.”
Chapter 4
Tarr arrived home to discover no damage to his keep and no clansmen hurt. He immediately questioned the validity of the message that had been delivered to him. If Raynor had attacked his land why was there no evidence of it? He intended to have answers, though first he had prisoners to see to, three including Raynor. The other two prisoners had suffered leg injuries and had not been able to flee. They would heal and more than likely, he would allow them to return home. Raynor was a different matter.
A celebratory atmosphere filled the air as clansmen and women greeted the returning victorious warriors. Wives welcomed husbands with open arms, children hurried to their fathers’ sides, and smiles of pride were settled upon their brave chieftain, Tarr of Hellewyk.
Tarr acknowledged the smiles with nods and waves, and noticed the curious glances given to the twins. His clan knew he had left to bring home a wife, and here he was with two identical women. Gossip would spread like wildfire. Soon all would be involved in attempting to solve their identities.
Tarr watched the sisters dismount, their only concern for Raynor as one kneeled beside him and the other stood nearby. He had hoped to find differences in them, but, thus far, they had succeeded in doing an excellent job at appearing identical in all manner. Both had raging, brilliant red hair that curled past their shoulders near to the middle of their backs. The green of their eyes reminded him of fresh meadow grass and their lips held the color of ripened apples. Their cream-colored skin was smooth, their round chins held high when they challenged, and their smiles broad. They were stunning women.
He ordered two of his men to follow him as he directed his stallion over to the twins.
“A cell awaits Raynor in the belly of my keep along with his men,” he said from his saddle.
Aliss did not look up at Tarr when she responded. “Then I remain there with him.”
“And I remain with my sister,” Fiona chimed in.
Tarr corrected both of them. “You both will stay where I put you.”
Aliss bolted to her feet and nearly shoved Fiona out of her way to walk over to Tarr. “Have you no heart that you would condemn a dying man to a prison cell?”
“He is my enemy and he condemned himself when he invaded my land.”
Aliss pointed at Raynor. “Can he hurt you now? Do you fear him so much that you imprison him when unconscious?”
Tarr felt her insult like a slap in the face. “I fear no man.”
“Then spare him more suffering with the short time left to him. Place him in guarded chambers if you must, but allow him to die in some comfort.”
This twin cared too much, Tarr thought. She had to be a healer, which meant she was Aliss.
“Please,” Fiona implored, her voice quavering.
Fiona’s plea shattered his opinion of both sisters and confused him even more. He had thought her the one who bravely fought beside him, or was she now playing her part well?
“A bargain, then,” he said, a sudden thought giving him
a taste of impending victory. “Let Fiona step forward and I will keep Raynor from my dungeon.”
Aliss spoke up. “You must think us fools to bargain over a man who death will soon claim.”
Fiona moved to her sister’s side to show solidarity.
A groan from Raynor caught all their attentions.
Aliss rushed to his side.
“You accuse falsely,” Fiona said. “It appears your keep was not attacked. What brought Raynor here? Do you not care to know the truth?”
Her thoughts mirrored his own. He was curious over the very same questions, which had come to mind when he arrived home. If by chance Raynor survived, he would learn the truth, so perhaps letting the twin see to his care would prove beneficial.
“Take Raynor to the bedchambers across from mine and place two guards outside the door,” Tarr ordered his men.
“A wise choice,” Fiona said.
“We shall see,” Tarr said curtly. “My concern now is to end this game you and your sister play. You will both join me in the great hall for the evening meal. It is time we three got to know each other.”
Raynor continued to groan as four hefty warriors transported him on the hauler to the second floor of the keep. He quieted when he was placed on the bed, but only for a moment, then he continued to moan softly and steadily.
“Help me rid him of his boots,” Aliss said to her sister. “Then we will see to his shirt. I want to make certain I missed no wounds.”
Fiona went to work on one leather boot as Aliss saw to the other.
“Tarr demands our presence at supper,” Fiona said, dropping the boot to the floor.
“I have work to do here. I have no time to eat.” Aliss collected both boots and set them aside. “His shirt.”
Aliss eased the wrapped plaid from his shoulder.
Fiona made quick work of his blood and grime-soaked shirt with her knife, slicing it down the middle, and with a few more quick swipes of her blade the shirt was off.
Fiona grabbed hold of her sister’s arm to get her attention. “If we both do not appear at supper, Tarr will grow suspicious. I imagine he already thinks that the healer of the twins will remain with Raynor. We must attend supper together.” Fiona released her sister.
“I cannot leave him for long.” Aliss bent over Raynor to examine the bruising.
Fiona paced beside the bed. “What if we debate between us which one of us will return to help him? It would confuse Tarr—”
“And give you an opportunity to eat more with me not there.”
Fiona sighed with delight. “That sounds wonderful for I am starving.”
“And I am not,” Aliss said, and pushed the wooden chest in front of the bed around to the side.
Fiona hurried to help her sister until they had it next to the top of the bed.
Aliss placed her healing pouch on top. “I am going to need more candles, a bucket of water, and clean cloth—and that fire needs stoking. I do not want this room to grow cold.”
Fiona saw to the fire, adding several logs from the stack next to the hearth and stoking the burning ashes. “I will find candles and get you water, but remember you must be ready for supper and you must show no concern about rushing back to Raynor.”
“Do you think this ruse is for naught? Tarr has made it clear that he intends to marry one of us, and he is a man who is accustomed to having his way.”
“You think we are incapable of defeating him?” Fiona sounded cautious.
“We are stubborn, you and I.” Aliss’s smile faded with her words. “But so is Tarr. He is attentive and listens well, hearing even what is not spoken.”
“I realized the same myself,” Fiona admitted. “He hears beyond what people say and understands well their actions.”
“Which is why you pleaded for Raynor?”
“You left me little choice, sister. You demonstrate extreme courage when it comes to defending the weak and ill. I could see in Tarr’s dark eyes what he thought.”
“That I was Fiona, his future bride.”
“We have done well together thus far in keeping him confused. Now our chore becomes more difficult.”
“I thought the same,” Aliss said. “Tonight when you return from time spent alone with Tarr, you will need to tell me all that you and he discussed. We will need to apprise each other of all discussions we separately have with him.”
“This way he will never be certain which twin he speaks with.”
A pitiful moan had Aliss turning to Raynor. “I need water to tend him.”
“I will get it for you, but make certain you leave time to freshen yourself for I cannot abide the grime that sticks to me and I intend to scrub myself clean.”
“Do not worry. I will do the same.”
Fiona stopped before reaching the door. “We will win this, Aliss.”
“If so, will our victory be as sweet as we anticipated?”
The twins entered the hall. They had washed off the dirt and blood of battle and donned fresh clothes, dark green skirts and pale yellow blouses. Their skin shone and their cheeks glowed pink. Their long red hair was tied back, though one twin’s stubborn strands fell loose while none were out of place on the other. They approached the table together.
“No victory celebration?” Fiona asked, stopping in front of Tarr and glancing around the empty hall. “I expected to find you at the dais flanked by your men raising tankards in triumph, yet you sit at a common table with a lone man.”
“She certainly speaks her mind,” the man said with a deep laugh.
“And you are?” Aliss asked with overt sweetness.
“Kirk,” he answered, standing as if he had been gently called to task.
Tarr made the introductions. “Kirk is a good friend and a new father.”
“How delightful,” Fiona said with a single, loud handclap. “A son or daughter?”
Kirk grinned, his thick chest growing wider and his full face bursting with pride. “A son.”
“Much good health and happiness to him,” Aliss offered sincerely.
“And who do I thank?” Kirk asked teasingly.
“The choice is yours, Fiona or Aliss,” Aliss said.
“Then, I thank both and look forward to getting to know both.” Kirk grabbed an apple from a bowl on the table. “I must be on my way. Enjoy supper and good night to you all.”
His absence left Tarr alone with the twins. He had even instructed the servants not to disturb him, having had the table stocked with platters and bowls of food and pitchers of ale and wine. He wanted his attention fixed on the twins and nothing else. He had first thought to wait to speak with them, thinking the twins fatigued from the skirmish. Weariness, however, had its advantage and he hoped one of them would falter and he would be victorious twice this day.
Fiona and Aliss sat on the bench opposite him.
He watched them pile their plates high as he filled their goblets with wine.
“Leith told me that you came to live with the clan MacElder ten years ago, when you were both eleven years.” Tarr said.
“Leith’s father Tavish was our father’s brother. Uncle Tavish attended our father’s burial and our mother informed him of her own illness. He promised her he would return for us and raise us as his own,” Fiona said.
“Uncle Tavish came for us five months later,” Aliss added, and turned the attention on him. “We were sorry to hear of your father’s recent passing.”
“I will miss him. He taught me much.”
“And your mother?” Aliss asked. “What of her?”
“She has past one year now. She was loved by all and her presence is sorely missed.”
“Do you have siblings?” Aliss asked, nibbling on a piece of venison.
“Nay, I am a lone child.”
“Is that why you want sons?” Fiona asked bluntly.
“My blood, my clan name, shall continue with my sons and their sons.”
“What if you have only daughters?” Fiona was quick to ask.<
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“I am confident I can produce many sons.”
“What if your wife thinks otherwise?” Fiona smirked.
“A good wife will do as her husband asks.”
“Good thing you did not say obedient wife,” Fiona said, stabbing a chunk of cheese with her knife.
“You should go see to Raynor,” Aliss instructed, carefully slicing an apple.
Fiona shook her head. “Your turn.”
“I have already spent my time with him.”
Tarr raised his hand. “Stop. One of you go. I care not who and know not who, but I need no more of your play-acting this day.”
“I will go,” Aliss said with annoyance, and took a bite of the apple and hurried off with a wave.
“Would you be a good wife?” Tarr asked, returning to their conversation.
“To a husband I loved.”
“A woman’s fancy—love.” Tarr leaned in, resting his arms on the table, prepared to defend. “Bards write poetic nonsense about love, minstrels sing endlessly about it, and women foolishly wait for a gallant knight to claim them. I prefer a woman of substance, courage, and honor. One who will stand beside me, in battle if necessary, and one with the strength to birth me fine sons so that what we build together will forever continue.”
“And love?”
“Love is the courage to face all of life with each other.”
Fiona dusted her hands. “You are poetic?”
“Do not insult me,” he half laughed.
“I speak the truth as do you. You let it be known what you searched for in a wife.”
Tarr noticed how her green eyes turned brilliant, then softened along with her emotions. Her quick responses hinted she was not afraid of a challenge, and her natural red lips tempted him to kiss her.
“And what benefits such a union could bring,” he said.
“You must have had many offers.”
“You wonder if you were my first choice?” he teased, and watched her green eyes spark.
“Fiona would be your best choice,” she said curtly.
He laughed. “Actually you are correct. Out of all the clans who submitted proposals to me, Fiona was the only choice I seriously considered. Her reputation was well known.”
The Daring Twin Page 3