Eira and the others rushed over to Mostr with Brynjar’s deceased body. Gunbrand stayed close, still suspicious of Dregon. He still couldn’t forgive him after destroyed most of the clan and Lundar with it. A beautiful town that had gone to waste due to his heavy spells. The men carried Brynar to one of the rooms with a big bed in it. They laid him down and moved out of Dregon’s way so he could get started. Eira sat on the opposite of the bed, caressing her deceased husband’s hand. She sighed, praying and hoping that the spell worked on him. Dregon turned to his wife, who stood by his side the whole time.
“I need herbs.” He told her. “You know which ones, too.”
Natilda glanced at her husband for a second, then her eyes widened.
