Back home at Brandersgaard, Ailia was glad to finally sit down. Each step on her way back home had inflamed the pain she felt from the arrow and blood had oozed down her nice red Sunday dress, saturating it and her tan wool overcoat.
“The arrow has to come out now,” Bishop Peter said, sitting next to her. He wasted no time and didn’t even bother to prepare Ailia. He snapped the arrow in two and pulled it out on either side.
Ailia screamed. The pain was intense, so intense that she saw splotches of blackness as her head began to spin.
“I will need to sew you up so the bleeding stops,” Bishop Peter said.
“How did you learn to be so callous?” Ailia asked, still upset he hadn’t even bothered to warn her about what he was doing. Soren had been much more careful than this man.
“Before I was converted unto the Lord, I trained as an archer for King Olav. It was then that I learned to tend to wounds such as this one,” he said. “Unni, may I please have some fresh water, plenty of clean towels, a needle, and some string?”
Unni left, and soon she returned with the items in hand. She sat down next to Ailia, who had now laid down on the bench. “Lucia is crying in the back room. She says she feels terrible she gave you away to the Surtorians. She doesn’t even want to show her face.”
Ailia took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to her later,” she said. First, she needed to get through this and then, she needed to process what had happened in the church. Ailia was still shocked how easily Lucia had betrayed her.
After another round of torture, Ailia made her way to the back room.
Lucia sat crying in the corner on the floor, but rose to her feet as soon as Ailia walked in. “Ailia, I am so sorry I said what I said. I do not know what came over me. I was—so scared and I did not want to go back to the tower to be tortured and then, I just—” She did not finish the sentence, but covered her face with her hands and started crying.
“Lucia.” Ailia reached her hand toward her sister.
“Please, please forgive me, I beg of you,” Lucia said, tears trailing down her face, her voice carrying a desperate plea. “I will never betray you again, I promise.”
Ailia pulled her closer and gave Lucia a soft hug. Her shoulder hurt and she pulled back. “Sorry, my shoulder… I forgive you, Lucia.” Although, it wasn’t the complete truth. A part of her heart had been shattered so thoroughly that she feared not even time would mend its brokenness.
That night, Ailia lay awake thinking before sleep took her. She wished Soren was here with her now, to support her, to explain things to her, but to her great dismay, Ailia’s recollection of Soren had started to fade.
22
Fortune or Fraud