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The Truth Hurts
Part 3
by Shannon
"Water?"
The edge of a glass was pressed to her lips, and she roused herself long enough to drink, careful not to spill it. A hand pressed briefly against her forehead and dropped away without comment.
The room was tilting drunkenly, and small flashing lights kept coming before her eyes.
"What happened?" the woman's tone was harsh.
"She be a fighter, this lass, Ma'am," a male voice responded," Tried to make a run for it when we moved her from the cell."
Donal Ferguson turned toward the older woman, who was standing next to the bed, with a grim smile shaking his head. What little light that penetrated the castle's dark recesses shone on the rough planes of his face, deep lines of fatigue ran through.
Parker squinted up at the voice. The fever distorted her vision, but there seemed something vaguely familiar about the fine-boned face. She was burning, she could feel the flames behind her eyes when she closed them. Her lips were cracked and sore from the heat, but it was better than the chills that came at intervals. At least when she was fevered, she could lie still; the shaking of the chills woke the sleeping demons of her dreams.
Or were the dreams reality?
"You best control her," the woman retorted; then started to turn on her heels but not before she saw awareness flicker in Parker's clouded blue eyes, as the thought of recognization came. "Or else. I have an appearance to make."
There was no response to this; all of them knew the answer too well.
Parker turned her face to the wall, praying for what, she didn't exactly know. Yet a wave of longing and regret for someone brushed the outer fringes of her mind. Then it was gone. Tears trickled slowly from under her closed lids, and she tried to hid them from those still in the room.
***
Jarod noticed how pale Voilet was was when he entered the room. In fact, Grannie cocked one brow at him and small lines were visible around her eyes. She gave him a brief, distracted glance, and tried to smile. Jarod moved quickly toward the woman's bedside, reaching for and taking hold of the gnarled hand. He squeezed it gently.
"She left for the Caer," her eyes, dark blue and unsettled.
"Alone? Why?" he let out a long breath then dropped his head down toward his chest, his eyes locking on to Violet's. His eyes alwas reminded her of a hawk's eyes, as though he could see a good deal further than most people.
"She dinna want to wait for ye, Jarod," a small smile on her lips as she watched him. "Determined your lass be. Are ye alright, Jarod?"
"I think so. What about you?"
"I be dying, lad and there be nothing done to stop it. Ye dinna want to listen to me talk. Go, find your lass and the truth."
***
She felt as though she had been struck and needed to lie still until the giddness and the lights that pulsed behind her eyelids with each heartbeat stopped. She kept her eyes closed tight, and swallowed hard, trying to gather her scattered wits about the single appalling thought that sliced through her brain like a bolt of lightning through a tree. If she could only remember.
The Truth Hurts
Part 3
by Shannon
"Water?"
The edge of a glass was pressed to her lips, and she roused herself long enough to drink, careful not to spill it. A hand pressed briefly against her forehead and dropped away without comment.
The room was tilting drunkenly, and small flashing lights kept coming before her eyes.
"What happened?" the woman's tone was harsh.
"She be a fighter, this lass, Ma'am," a male voice responded," Tried to make a run for it when we moved her from the cell."
Donal Ferguson turned toward the older woman, who was standing next to the bed, with a grim smile shaking his head. What little light that penetrated the castle's dark recesses shone on the rough planes of his face, deep lines of fatigue ran through.
Parker squinted up at the voice. The fever distorted her vision, but there seemed something vaguely familiar about the fine-boned face. She was burning, she could feel the flames behind her eyes when she closed them. Her lips were cracked and sore from the heat, but it was better than the chills that came at intervals. At least when she was fevered, she could lie still; the shaking of the chills woke the sleeping demons of her dreams.
Or were the dreams reality?
"You best control her," the woman retorted; then started to turn on her heels but not before she saw awareness flicker in Parker's clouded blue eyes, as the thought of recognization came. "Or else. I have an appearance to make."
There was no response to this; all of them knew the answer too well.
Parker turned her face to the wall, praying for what, she didn't exactly know. Yet a wave of longing and regret for someone brushed the outer fringes of her mind. Then it was gone. Tears trickled slowly from under her closed lids, and she tried to hid them from those still in the room.
***
Jarod noticed how pale Voilet was was when he entered the room. In fact, Grannie cocked one brow at him and small lines were visible around her eyes. She gave him a brief, distracted glance, and tried to smile. Jarod moved quickly toward the woman's bedside, reaching for and taking hold of the gnarled hand. He squeezed it gently.
"She left for the Caer," her eyes, dark blue and unsettled.
"Alone? Why?" he let out a long breath then dropped his head down toward his chest, his eyes locking on to Violet's. His eyes alwas reminded her of a hawk's eyes, as though he could see a good deal further than most people.
"She dinna want to wait for ye, Jarod," a small smile on her lips as she watched him. "Determined your lass be. Are ye alright, Jarod?"
"I think so. What about you?"
"I be dying, lad and there be nothing done to stop it. Ye dinna want to listen to me talk. Go, find your lass and the truth."
***
She felt as though she had been struck and needed to lie still until the giddness and the lights that pulsed behind her eyelids with each heartbeat stopped. She kept her eyes closed tight, and swallowed hard, trying to gather her scattered wits about the single appalling thought that sliced through her brain like a bolt of lightning through a tree. If she could only remember.
