He returned to the bed and helped her sit up, then propped furs and blankets behind her for support. He picked up a large mug, then set it back and chose a smaller one, not wanting to give her any excuse to back out. It was only lukewarm, but she couldn’t drink anything too hot anymore. He gave it a cursory stir with the long wooden ladle, then tested the broth with his finger. Sigurd moved quickly to the pot suspended over the fire before she could change her mind. You drink a cup of broth and I’ll tell you who he was.” He looked at her fondly and shook his head. “The healer says it’s my stubbornness that’s kept me alive this long,” she countered, ignoring his gruffness. “The healer says you shouldn’t waste so much energy being stubborn,” he grumbled. “You never could lie to me, Sigurd, so why would you try now?” Leila chided him. “No one? I recognized his voice, so I know he’s been here before.” She seemed paler than usual this morning. “Are you cold? Would you like something to eat?” He moved to the bed and bent over to adjust the furs around her. “No.” Sigurd closed the door behind him and made his way through the interior of the small cabin to stoke the fire. “You don’t have to creep I’m awake.” Leila’s quiet voice came from the shadows. SIGURD EASED OPEN the door and swore under his breath as the telltale squeak still announced his arrival.
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