Page 48 of Highland Queen

“Where is he?” Madelaine asked, her eyes wild.

“With a healer in his chamber.”

Without waiting another moment, Madelaine rushed off.

“Ute,” I called lightly, slipping off my horse.

“Gruoch,” she said happily. She pulled me into an embrace.

I leaned back and looked at her. “How good to see you,” I said. The years in Fife had given Ute time to recover. She’d regained much of the weight she’d lost in the last months she’d been with me. Where her cheeks had once been hollow, they were full and rosy once more. She smiled at me, but there was worry behind her eyes.

“Tavis…how is he?”

Ute shook her head. “Fever. The wound has festered. It’s good you’re here. You should come now.”

I nodded. “Do we know what happened to him? Has he said anything?”

“He’s in no state to speak clearly. From what we have been able to glean, he sustained a sword wound on his side. It looks like he tried to treat it, but the wound went bad. He’s burning up, and convulsions started an hour ago. He…Gruoch…” she said then shook her head.

Ute led me to a chamber on the second floor of the castle. Even before we got to the room, I could smell sickness.

I entered to find a servant with a blood-covered apron and a healer I didn’t know. I cursed myself for not carrying my medicines with me. The room smelled of illness and incense. Madelaine was sitting at Tavis’ bedside, his hand in hers.

“Tavis,” she whispered. “Tavis, can you hear me?”

“Why is this room closed?” I asked. “Open the casement and freshen the air.”

The servant and priest looked up at me, both pausing to stare.

“Oh…Your Majesty,” the servant said, dropping a curtsey.

“Your Majesty,” the healer repeated.

I waved a hand dismissively. “No time for that. The windows,” I said then went to Tavis.

“Corbie,” Madelaine whispered, moving aside so I could see.

As she had with me, Ute relayed to Madelaine what had been happening.

“Tavis?” I whispered, setting my hand on his head. He was burning with fever.

I went to the washbasin and cleaned my hands. I then returned to the bed. I pulled back the coverlets to see the wound there. It was neatly dressed, but the scent of rot wafted from the bandages which were tinged yellowish from the liquid that had seeped from the wound.

“Fresh water,” I told Ute.

Working gently, I removed the bandages to see the festering wound underneath. Someone had carved into Tavis’s side. By now, the wound should have begun to heal, but it hadn’t been properly cleaned.

“Tavis?” I said, gently touching his shoulder. “I will try to clean your wound. Can you hear me? It will be painful. I’m so sorry,” I said then motioned for Ute to hand me the pitcher of water.

“My queen—” the healer began in protest.

“Send him out.”

Madelaine moved quickly to remove the others.

Working carefully, I washed Tavis. Again and again, I cursed myself for not bringing along any of my herbs or medicines.

Frowning, I worked hard at cleaning the wound while Tavis winced and groaned. It soon became evident to me that the infection was severe. Dark, spidery veins had crept across his chest. If the poison was already in his blood, it could kill him at any time. Working as best I could, I cleaned the wound then applied what paltry medicines the healer had brought with him. There were medicines that could help, that could slow the infection, but none were on hand. Wordlessly, I redressed the wound once more.

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