17th October 1102

The candlelight glowed behind Hepsie’s head making her dark face a shadow in the chilly room. But Lochan could faintly see her grim expression, the whites of her eyes as they flicked down to the sleeping pair in the bed.

It had been many hours since Cindra had crawled in beside her husband and during that time Garrick’s wounds had only worsened while Cindra sobbed in her sleep, clawing at the blankets. Many times he had raised himself half from his chair, determined to wake her and carry away from this room where death waited silently in the corner. Always Hepsie’s fierce glare had stilled him as they sat and watched. Occasionally she would rise, her careful hands deftly stitching a new wound that appeared on Garrick’s failing body.

There was a faint stirring beneath the bedclothes. She was awake! His terrified heart stuttered in relief.

With an agonised bellow Garrick launched himself from the bed.

Hepsie was on her feet in an instant, moving towards the shivering red-haired titan, her arms spread wide. Lochan scrambled out of his chair, tripping as he rushed to assist her.

“Garrick. Yew just be lyin’ down again now dear, yew aren’t being well”, she murmured softly all the while moving slowly towards him.

She lay a calloused brown hand on his arm, his coarse coppery hairs standing starkly against the sickly white of his skin.

He roared, pushing her away, shaking his arm so that she dangled from it like a fish on a hook.

“Isabelle!!!!”, he howled, clawing at his head, his hands tearing out chunks of red hair that fell to the floor, sodden with sweat.

Lochan’s heart went cold, as though death himself had prised open Lochan’s clenched teeth and exhaled down his throat, the frigid breath freezing his very soul.

He wrapped his arms around Garrick’s massive trunk, pinning the huge muscled arms to his sides. Clinging like tiny flea on a hairy back, he held on as tightly as he could while Garrick thrashed about like a rabid dog.

“Izzy! Izzy!”, he was weeping, tears and sweat running down his face, blood spurting from his wounds as the stitching split.

“Get help Goodwife, we’ll need some ropes”, Lochan replied through teeth gritted from the effort of maintaining his hold of his friend’s flailing limbs.

Without warning Garrick’s body suddenly went limp in his arms. Lochan was not prepared for such a change and Garrick’s body slid fluidly away from him clumsily grabbing hands, sagging to the ground.

He was writhing on the floor, a sobbing mess, banging his head repeatedly on the hard wood of the bed frame as Lochan stood floundering above him.

With a whisper of swishing skirts Cindra was by his side. She wrapped her plump arms around her brawny husband’s shaking body, pulling him close, nuzzling his shoulder.

“Hush now my love. It will be alright. She won’t hurt you anymore”, her voice was soft and comforting, like the scratchy purr of a mother cat as she gently licked her kitten’s sightless face.

Lochan had been going to warn her, to tell her that her husband had been struck mad. To rip her away from Garrick’s swinging arms and hide her behind him even as those blows fell on his face and shoulders. But beneath her gentle touch Garrick was growing calm, his weeping quieting as she held him tightly in her arms.

“She’s gone… she’s left me”, he sobbed brokenly, his voice hollow as though the inside of his chest had been carved out, eroded away by floods of tears.

“I know love. She has gone. But I’m sure she has gone to a better place my sweet and you will see her again one day”.

Lochan shivered as he realised she was talking of Isabelle. Could they truly have seen her in their dreams?

He gazed at Cindra’s face, peeping out from behind Garrick’s ropey shoulder. Her golden eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she peered at her husband’s face with such a look of love and compassion that Lochan’s own heart shivered in the cold away from it.

Garrick whimpered, his body drawing closer to the warmth of his wife. Finally she looked up at Lochan, her eyes pleading.

“Lochan I can’t lift him, will you help me get him off the floor and into bed”, she asked softly.

“Of course”, he murmured, bending down to help.

Garrick moaned in terror as Lochan tried to get his hands under the taller man’s arms and drag him off the floor. He was heavy, sagging like a sack of flour.

“Hush love. You need to rest. Let Lochan help you. You can sleep again. No one is going to hurt you”, Cindra’s voice was calm and comforting, like the soft, warm hands she rubbed Garrick’s arms with.

He let Lochan lift him up then, unresisting, even supporting part of his weight. Still Lochan staggered under his heavy body as he wrapped his arm around Garrick’s waist and hoisted him to his feet.

They stumbled together towards the bed, lurching like a couple of drunkards winding their way home from the tavern.

Cindra and Lochan guided Garrick into bed, wrapping him in blankets, tucking his long legs and arms in as though they were winding him in a shroud. Stripes of blood were smeared across the front of Cindra’s nightgown making her truly appear as some giant cat stalking through the candlight. She gazed up at him with glowing, amber eyes, then threw her arms around his neck pulling him down towards her in a fierce embrace. He gasped, wrapping his arms around her warm body, holding her tightly against him. He wanted to press his face against her warm, sweaty neck, to bury mouth and nose in her sweet-smelling hair, but already she was squirming away from him.

“Thank you Lochan”, she murmured, padding over to the bed and depositing herself atop the blankets.

Garrick murmured in his sleep, unconsciously drawing near to the warmth of her plump body. She curled herself around him protectively, like a lioness guarding her mewling young.

The swung open and Hepsie barrelled in, “I brought the ropes me Lord!”

She stopped and stared at the two forlorn figures huddled on the bed.

“I guess perraps we ain’t needing them no more”.

“No, I guess we aren’t”, he replied, scratching his chin, bewildered.

“I think Garrick’s is going to need stitching again Goodwife, if you can get near him. He seems to be calm again now”.

“I don’t understand what was just happenin’ here yer grace”, Hepsie glanced up at him, her look of confusion presumably mirroring his.

“Nor do I, Goodwife”, he murmured gazing over at Garrick and his cousin.

Her eyes were closed, head lolling heavily against the wall, her face pressed up against the salty wood. Her mouth was curved into a soft smile. He could almost hear the gentle rumble of her purr.

Cade, Murchadh, Tadhgar