Llewellyn’s Song Read Online Free

behemoth
roamed nearby. A shiver made her ill for a second. Despite the fact that her
rescuer had chased the behemoth away—it would return. A bow and arrows, as
clever as they may be, could never kill a behemoth.

Chapter Three
    The Enemy
     
    When she next opened her eyes, her first thought was to
berate herself. She’d fallen asleep despite her determination to stay awake.
She shifted, and intense pain hit her. Her mind skittered from the pain and she
nearly blacked out again. Then she got hold of herself and managed to look
around.
    The fire burned high and she’d been moved. Now she lay on a
bed of woven willow branches, a finely woven blanket over her body, keeping her
warm. Someone had set her leg and she could tell her bones had started to mend
by the difference in the pain. No longer a dull and sickening feeling, rather
it had gotten sharper and had started to itch. She tried to flex her fingers
but still her body refused to obey her. However, she could feel her body now—the
nerve endings had started their slow healing. Relief washed over her, and she
trembled suddenly. Her teeth chattered.
    “I made you some tea.”
    The voice came from behind her. Low, deep, deeper than any
voice she’d ever heard, it raised the fine hairs on her back of her neck. She’d
prepared herself to see him, but in her helpless, weakened position, panic
seized her. A man! She’d never set eyes on a man. Her clan never allowed men
into their territory unless it was in specific places set up for trading and
weddings, and they told terrible stories about what happened if a man caught
you in his lands, and what men did to women in their countries. Not all men
were mindless brutes, her clan mother had told her daughters. Some came to
trade, and some came with news of other countries. But best be wary and treat
most men like brutish enemies, which was how her clan considered them. And one
stood right behind her.
     
    Llewellyn watched as the woman awoke. She grimaced with
pain, then looked around, taking in her surroundings. He imagined her fear must
be overwhelming, and he didn’t want to startle her. When he judged she’d
settled down, he spoke and stepped into her line of sight.
    Cool gray eyes studied him carefully. There was no sign of
fear in her gaze, only a quiet watchfulness. He had never seen a d’ark t’uath,
so he didn’t know if her kind considered her a beauty, but each time he saw her
his breath caught in his throat. Her finely chiseled bones appeared fragile,
but she’d survived an attack by a behemoth, and mended quickly. Already her
pulse beat strongly and her breath no longer whistled in her throat.
    Carefully, he held a straw to her lips so she could drink
the infusion he’d prepared. It would give her strength and help her heal. She
took a tiny sip and her eyes widened. “Are you the traders’ healer?”
    He cocked his head. “Traders?”
    “Yes, you came with a group of traders, didn’t you? We have
been expecting some. How fortunate you came to this side of the valley. I thank
you for saving me. When your companions return, we can move to the trading
post. The behemoth will want its cave back.”
    Llewellyn had never heard such a mixture of assurance and
wariness in a voice. He nudged the straw to her lips. “Drink it all. I am a
healer, yes, but I have no companions. I travel alone.” For the first time her
eyes widened in fear, and he hastened to reassure her. “The behemoth won’t come
back, it’s dead.”
    Now outright disbelief lit her eyes. How could someone have
such expressive eyes? She didn’t even need to speak. “Drink,” he said. “The
behemoth fell off the cliff and now feeds the crows.”
    She drank, never taking her eyes from him. Afterwards, her
eyelashes fluttered and she slept, though it seemed she fought even that
healing sleep. Murmuring soft prayers of healing, he knelt by her side, keeping
watch. They would be there for a while yet. She thought she could be moved, but
he