Zahra carried a breakfast tray into Regin’s chamber with a bright smile. After spending the night in the forest and narrowly escaping a distasteful fate, she felt chipper and grateful to be safely within the walls of the castle. She had gone to bed, but her dreams did not let her sleep peacefully. She was up at the crack of dawn, unable to sleep any longer. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cain’s face, his stunning eyes, his sun-kissed skin, and sun-bleached hair.

In her dreams, he came to her bed, stripped to his tan hide breaches. The soft light from the hearth danced over his body. He emerged from the shadows and slowly crawled across her bed like a wild beast on the prowl. There was an intense sexuality about him as he stretched out above her his large body braced above her as he gazed into her eyes. He would dip his head low to kiss her, and before their lips touched, she woke.

Startled by the carnal dream, she had given up on sleep and spent her morning in the kitchen preparing a meal Regin would not turn down. She came into the room, and Erik stood up respectfully. Regin smiled at her from his bed. He looked exhausted and weathered but happy to see her. “Good morning.” She greeted the men. “It is a glorious day, is it not?” She said, placing the tray in Regin’s lap.

“You seem chipper this morning,” Regin observed. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not really, but I am grateful to be home safe, last night could have ended badly for me was not for your son.”

He looked down at the food in front of him. “What is this?”

“Cornmeal.” She said with a smile. “Cornmeal and honey with fresh milk. It is easy to eat, will settle your stomach, and it is filling; it will quench your hunger pangs.” She promised, taking a seat on the foot of the bed.

Regin picked up the spoon on the tray and dipped it in the bowl. He lifted the food to his face and smelled it. “It smells good.” He said, taking a bite. He nodded his head and picked up another spoonful. “It tastes good too. Dear Girl, you continue to surprise me.”

She smiled at Erik; the boy was eyeing Regin’s meal like he too was hungry. “There is more in the kitchen if you are hungry.”

Erik looked at the door and then back at the king. “Go,” Regin said, giving Erik leave. The boy left quickly in search of scraps.

“How are you feeling?” Zahra asked.

“Dreadful.” He said, continuing to eat. “I feel my faculties are failing me.” He confessed, not looking up. “And my son is too stubborn to see I am wasting away. I will die in this bed.” He said bitterly.

“I can make you comfortable.” She promised.

“My son seems to believe you can save me.” He said, finishing his meal and dropping the spoon in the empty bowl.

She got the feeling he had less faith in her. Perhaps Regin was more of a realist. “I shall do my best.” She promised.

“If you cannot, I wish to know. I am a warrior, Dear Girl, and there is no greater dishonour for a warrior than to die in his bed.” He said with honesty.

How could he want to know? She saw no fear in his eyes. “Do you not fear death?”

“Death is a part of life. I leave this world and take my place in Odin’s army in the hereafter. True warriors do not fear death; they see it as a grand adventure. Besides, I have lived a good life. I have a son to survive me. No man can ask for more.”

He seemed like a proud father; she smiled awkwardly as she thought about her father. She never knew her father. He had left her mother long before she was born. A coward that could not handle the pressures of fatherhood. It had just been her, her mother and her grandfather all her life.

“What does your father do?” Regin asked.

Zahra shrugged her shoulders. “I do not know.” She admitted. “I have never met him.”

“Did he die?”

“I certainly hope so.” She loathed the man even though she had never met him. He had abandoned her and her mother. If she ever met him, Zahra would kill him herself.

“Do you have no man in your life?” He asked with interest.

“I have my grandfather.”

“Is he a warrior?”

“He was a farmer. He is too old to work the land. I was doing it for him until my clansmen tried to execute me.” She said, taking a deep breath to control her emotions.

“Does your mother not help?”

“She is dead. Burnt as a witch five years ago.”

“Did she teach you the craft?”

“She taught me everything I know.” Her mother was a strong, loving woman who had died a grisly death long before her time.

“Did she teach you to work miracles?” He asked.

She understood what he was asking. He wanted to know if she could save his life. She felt the need to be honest with him, but she could not. Her life and the life of her grandfather relied on this man and his men, believing she could play God. “You must trust in God.”

Regin scoffed. “Believe in your God, why should I believe in a God that does nothing for his disciples? What has God ever done for you?”

“He gave us trials to make us better people.”

“He killed your mother did that make you a better person?”

“My clansmen murdered my Mother, not my God.”

“He let her die without justice,” Regin said firmly.

“Justice was found.”

“What justice did your God grant you?”

“He sent your men to kill the men that took my Mother’s life. In that there be justice.” She said with confidence; her outlook made Regin smile.

“I commend your faith. You are a strong woman; you would have made a good Norse woman.” Zahra smiled; she got the feeling that was meant as a grand compliment.

The door opened, and they both looked to see who had come to see him. Cain came inside with a smile and Zahra had to look away. The memory of her vivid dream made it impossible to look him in the eye.

“You are looking well,” Cain said, coming to his father’s bedside. “I see you have been eating that is wonderful.”

“Zahra is a fabulous cook,” Regin said happily. “It is hard not to eat what she brings me.”

Cain smiled at her. “She must be very gifted.” He said, putting his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Do you feel well enough to get up?”

Both men looked at Zahra, waiting for her protest. She rose to her feet, unsure why they were turning to her for a decision. Her instinct said he should stay in bed, but from the short time she would spend with these two men, she knew he would rather go down in flames then lay withering away in some bed.

“I see no reason he should not get some fresh air.”

Cain smiled and looked back at his father. “Your nursemaid approves. That is reassuring. Let us get you up and dressed.”

Cain helped his father from the bed while Zahra assisted him in dressing. She got him in his trousers and pulled his tunic over his head. She tried to do the deed without making the poor man uncomfortable about the fact that he needed a stranger to help dress him. She wished to let him retain what little dignity he had left.

The act winded him, and Cain had to sit his father down on the edge of the bed to catch his breath and stop coughing. Regin wiped the blood from his lips and straightened his back with a strong resolve. “Dear Girl, bring me my armour.”

“I think you should forgo the armour this time.” She suggested. “It is far too heavy.”

“The King cannot be seen without his armour.” Cain reminded her.

“Yes, you have said that before.” She said.

“I trust that I shall not have to say it again.”

“You brought him here because you needed my skills, yet you refuse to follow my guidance. You are hindering my efforts.” She said, standing her ground. “I cannot make him well if you insist on continuing to overexert him. He is a sick man, and he does not need the burden of armour.”

“Dear Girl-” Regin began.

Zahra put up her hand up to silence him. “Hush, I am speaking.” Her sharp retort silenced both men not because they were obeying, but because they were stunned, she had dared to speak to Regin in such a way. “Things around here are going to change. I refuse to help you if you refuse to heed me.”

“You cannot refuse to help.” Cain scowled. “I am master here, and you will do as you are told, or you will die.”

“Fine.” She said, crossing her arms, “Kill me now and be done with it.” She challenged. She did not believe he would kill her; he needed her. Their determined glares were locked, neither of them willing to back down.

Regin began to chuckle, which drew them both out of their argument. Neither of them sure why he was laughing. “Such a fearless woman with fire and passion. Too headstrong to be ruled by any man. You remind me of my wife.” He said fondly. “Very well, then, I shall forgo my armour.”

“Father-”

“The King has spoken.” Regin put out his hand, and Cain took it, assisting his father in standing.

Zahra rushed to open the door while Cain held onto his father’s arm to help keep him upright. As they slowly made their way down the stairs, Regin kept leaning on the stone walls for support and pushing his son away. He was a proud man and wished to walk independently in front of his men, but his legs were weak, and he leaned heavily on outside supports.

Zahra got an idea. She quickly descended the stairs leaving Cain and Regin alone to navigate the stairways. If she ran, she could get back before they reached the landing. She knew the monks in the chapel often had a walking stick, and she figured Regin might find one helpful. She ran down to the church to fetch him one.

***

Zahra suddenly took off down the stairs without a word. She was running. “Zahra!” Cain called after her. He drew his sword and followed her down the few steps when he noticed his father stumble. Cain quickly rushed to his side to help stabilize him and then he looked down the stairs, but Zahra was gone. Damn it; she knew he could not chase after her and leave his ill father alone on the steps. It was far too dangerous.

“Where is she going?” Regin asked.

“I do not know. Do not fret Father I will find her if I have to chase her to the ends of the world, I will find her.” And he would punish her dearly for betraying him.

His father was straining to stay on his feet. “She will not run far. We have men all over this castle.” His father said between struggled breaths.

“She will rue the day she betrayed us,” Cain said bitterly as they took another unsteady step.

Regin chuckled. “So many women and yet you know so little. She is a prisoner; she owes us no loyalty. Prisoners run when given a chance.”

He would have thought so too, but yesterday when she was given a golden opportunity to run, she had stayed by his side. Why would she do that and then run now? After last night he had begun to believe she could be trusted. That her concern for his father’s health was genuine, but clearly, he was mistaken.

“You still have so much to learn, my son; I only regret that you must discover them on your own,” Regin said, taking another unsteady step.

“Do not speak like that. You will be fine in time.”

His father stopped and put his hand on his son’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Son, there comes a time when a man can no longer deny what is evident. You try so hard, but I will never recover. I am too far gone; even the witch cannot change my fate. It is the way the world works. Kings get old, they die, and young men take their place.”

“Father, I am not ready to take your place. You are a great king; how can I compare?”

“Men are not born great. What makes a man great is not his bloodline but how he handles adversity. His ability to be knocked down and get back up. To face an army alone and say, ‘I will not surrender.’ You are my son, and I know there is a great man inside you. When the time comes, I am certain you will make a fine king.”

His father’s faith in him baffled Cain. He believed in his ability so much, which only made things worse, the weight of the world weighed heavily on his shoulders. The pressure to live up to his father’s expectations was so daunting. He only hoped he could make his father proud.

Cain helped his father the rest of the way down the stairs, navigating the steep steps had been trying, but as they reached the landing at the bottom, Zahra came through the nearest door with a sturdy walking staff. She smiled when she saw them and came right over.

“I am so glad I reached you before you got too far.” She said, handing Regin the staff she carried. “This will help you get around better.”

“Thank you, my Dear Girl.” Regin smiled as he accepted the staff.

“I figured the King should be able to walk independently.”

Regin looked at his son with a pleased smile. He was impressed with her grasp of their cultural expectations. Cain hated to admit it, but she had impressed him as well. Mostly because she had come back, she was proving her mettle, and he found he had more respect for this woman then he had the day they met. For a Scot, she fits in beautifully with his kind. She was a little smaller than Norse women, but she carried herself with the same strength and sense of honour as any one of their women.

“Shall we go to the grand hall?” Zahra suggested. She wanted to get Regin seated as soon as possible to reduce the stress on his body.

“I would prefer to walk around a bit and see the men,” Regin said, hobbling toward the main doors. Zahra and Cain kept to his side. They let him walk on his own but kept close enough to help if needed. They strolled through the courtyard. Each man they passed respectfully bowing their head to their king with happy smiles.

It was good for the men to see their king up and walking around. They were all good men, but they needed unity. They needed a leader to unite them and guide them. The burden of leadership. They walked to the edge of the courtyard wall and looked down at the village below.

His father stood too close to the edge, Cain worried he might faint and fall to his death. He would have asked his father to step back, but he did not wish to shame him, so he stood silently, hoping the older man would not plunge off the side.

“This is a beautiful castle,” Regin said. “I was too ill to appreciate the sights when the men carried me in, but it is lovely.” He then turned and smiled at Zahra. His hand reached up and captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And the locals are breathtaking. You are a beautiful woman, Dear Child. Is she not beautiful, Cain?” He asked, glancing over at his son.

Cain’s gaze met that of Zahra’s, and he tried to seem indifferent, but he feared he was failing. “She is very pretty.” He agreed.

His father scoffed. “Pish-posh, she is more than pretty. A sunset is pretty; this woman is enchanting.” He said, lowering his hand and smiling at Zahra. “It is so difficult to believe there is no man in her life.”

“I am content,” Zahra said respectfully. “I need no man.”

“That is so tragic.” Regin frowned. “Everyone needs someone to love and to be loved in return.”

Zahra jeered, “And what does a warrior king know of love?”

Regin flashed a wicked smile. “I know more than warfare.” He assured her. “I managed to convince the most incredible woman in the world to be my wife. And it has been thirty years of blissful joy. She has given me a lovely daughter and one scamp of a son.” He said, messing up Cain’s hair like he was a child once more.

Cain pulled away and fixed his hair. He wished his father would not treat him like a child. He was a grown man. Regin put his arms around Zahra’s shoulder and Cain’s with a big grin. “The witch and the warrior, what a grand tale that would be. I can hear it now; the barbarian king sought out the mighty witch to save his dying father’s life. I wonder how the story will end?” He said thoughtfully. “Will the King succeed in his quest? Will the witch save the dying man’s soul? Mothers will tell this story to their children for generations.”

“I am afraid it will be a rather dull tale,” Zahra said as Regin took his walking staff, and they began to head back inside.

“I think not. There is something for everyone. A mighty hero and a strong heroine. It appeals to men and women alike.” Regin said, mounting the steps to the towering doors. “I think tonight I will dine with the men.” He stopped on the top step and smiled down at Zahra. “That is if you would be so kind as to make me some of your wonderful stew, Dear Child?”

“It would be my pleasure.” She said with a curtsy.

Both men watched as Zahra left them, headed for the kitchen to prepare a suitable meal for Regin. Once she was gone, Regin looked at his son. “I find myself enjoying the girl. I admire her tenacity. She is a fine woman for a Scot.” Cain agreed. “Boy, summon someone for me.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Zahra tells me her father is gone, and her mother is dead.”

“Yes, I believe that is true.”

“I wish you to bring her grandfather before me. I wish to look upon the man that raised such a fine woman. I will be in the grand hall.” He said and went inside.