Lost but Loved

Chapter Eighteen: Bitterness in the Air

The night was chilly as Lucy huddled near the fire. In her hands was a warm mug of tea, and she sipped from it as she stared up at the stars. The small lights winked back at her and she smiled, remembering how she used to lay out in the tall grass with her father and study the stars. He told her tales from the pictures in the stars.

Something was draped over her shoulders and she turned to see Lucas. "Thought you'd be cold, Commander." He sat down next to her and gazed up at the stars. "It's a chilly one tonight."

"Aye." She sipped from her mug and quickly glanced at him. Why had he put the blanket around her shoulder? Why the sudden act of kindness?

"Lucy, I must talk to you. Something has been bothering me deeply."

"Go ahead. I'll listen."

"My father, he has become very ill. My mother and I fear he will pass soon. But, I'm not ready for him to go. We don't have enough money to hire a healer to see if they will help his sickness. I fear I might not make it back in time to see him one last time."

Lucy bit her lip and patted his shoulder. She understood how he felt. It would be terrible to lose someone slowly. At least with her parents it was quick and they were gone. Not a long wait, stressing over if they'd make it through the night.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," she reassured.

"How can you say that?"

A tingling started in her fingers and she thought of his father. "Let him be well," she said in Welsh. The tingling left her fingers and she knew in her heart that her magic hit the target. "He will be fine. I promise, okay?"

Lucas looked doubtful, but he nodded.

"Commander, may I sit with you?" A soldier, in his late twenties maybe, came up behind them. Lucy glanced at Lucas who waved his hand, a translation for, go ahead.

"Yes, soldier. Can't sleep?"

"No, been thinking of my lady." Lucy raised an eyebrow and Lucas held in a chuckle. The man glanced at Lucy to see her look. "I mean my wife. I've been thinking about my wife."

Lucy still had her eyebrow raised. She wasn't interested in this soldier's life. She was on watch duty, and talking to Lucas was bad enough, now this fool felt he had to talk to her too. "It has been two months since she died. She died giving birth to our daughter. I miss her terribly and it's nights like these that make me miss her most."

Lucy felt sorry for the man. A tiredness swept over her, leaving her feeling drained of all energy or power. Her eyelids suddenly became drooped and she slumped forward, almost falling into the flames.

"Lucy!" Lucas caught her, but not before the man pulled out a dagger from underneath his cloak. Lucas sat her against a log and stood over her. "You dare to attack your commander?"

"She is no commander of mine." He shoved Lucas aside and cut Lucy's forearm. There was no response from her, no cry, no jerk, not even the fluttering of an eyelid.

"Men! Men! Rally for your commander, who has fallen by a comrade," Lucas's cry echoed out into the night. Men sprung from their tent's flaps with weapon in hand. They attacked the man and tied him up. Jane was woken and stumbled out in her nightgown.

"Lucy? Lucy! What's going on? I demand to know!" Jane wandered around, trying to find her friend, panic growing in her chest every minute.

"He shall hang for his treason! Ready him for the gallows!" Jane found Lucas and clutched his arm.

"Where's Lucy?" she asked, her eyes wide in fear.

His voice soft, he replied, "Come with me." He led her into his tent, where Lucy had been laid on the cot, a man standing over her, bandaging her arm. "I don't know what happened. She was strong and well one moment, and the next she slumped forward, almost pitching herself into the fire. That impostor cut her arm."