Page 6 of MacAlister's Hope
“Are you going to let such a wee lass defend your honor, Kieron?”
“Leave her be, Tav,” Kieron said as he stood and held a hand out to Fia to help her down, but she did not dare touch him again and let her mind once more start spinning fantasies about his touch, his voice, his… It seemed he was much the man she had imagined him to be, but it did not matter. She had a job to do, and she would not let herself be distracted by anyone, not even Kieron, no matter how enticing he might be.
She slid off the stone without his help and settled her skirts. “I will be saying goodnight,” she said to no one in particular. “You will, too, Annis,” she said to the lass who stood next to Brodie. “We’ve a busy day tomorrow and I’m sure Tavish wishes to get an early start.”
“Aye, Annis, go to your bed,” Kieron said as he crossed the small clearing. “Tavish needs his rest.” Kieron slapped his cousin on the shoulder hard enough to knock him sideways a step or two. “And he will not get it as long as he is trying to sort out which of you lasses he wishes to kiss, and which he’ll offer promises he is in no position to keep.”
Tavish let out a laugh so hard he startled several birds awake who were roosting in a tree overhead. Brodie took Annis by the upper arm and pulled her around the fire to stand near her pallet. Fia swallowed her own laugh and hurried to her blankets. Kieron’s quick-witted way of solving the problem of Tavish’s temper did remind her of the lad she had briefly known so long ago, but it still didn’t explain why he credited her, and her few words of encouragement, with his transformation when clearly he had done the work on his own.
Chapter Three
Relief swept through Kieron as they rode into Kilglashan. Now Fia would heal the chief and all would be back to normal again. Tavish didn’t stop at the stable, but rode along the winding main road, then up the motte, a small hill built by the first villagers to settle here, to the large hallhouse where the chief’s family lived and that also served as a gathering place for the village as a whole on festivals and other special occasions. It was only there that his cousin called a halt and dismounted. Dropping his reins, Tavish moved quickly to Fia’s mare before Kieron could, and judging by the gasp that escaped the lass, he pulled her out of her saddle before she was prepared. Kieron helped Annis down, then untied the saddlebag from Fia’s horse and followed the three of them up a stair and into the hallhouse.
They crossed a large open room, then took another flight of turnstile stairs up to the bed chambers. Tavish opened his father’s door without so much as a knock, startling the two women who tended the chief.
“How is he?” Tavish demanded.
“No better, lad,” Margaret, the older of the women said. “The blisters continue to grow and there is naught we can do to stop them, nor to ease his pain. Where is Lady Elena?”
“Leave now,” Tavish said abruptly, without even acknowledging the woman’s question, then he pushed Fia forward. “Heal him.”
Fia shrugged off Tavish’s hand, then moved to the bedside and began examining his father, who lay as if in a daze. Kieron had never seen their chief in such a state. Usually he was charging about, seeing that everything and everyone in the clan was well and doing their duty. He looked as if he had aged a score of years in the three days they had been away. His cheeks were hollow, his skin a sickly yellow-gray, and his left eye was sunken, though the right one was ringed by new blisters, its lid so swollen it barely opened.
At least he was not moaning as he had been when they left to fetch Elena. Except maybe that meant it was worse.
“Heal him,” Tavish demanded again, but Kieran knew him well enough to hear the edge of something deeper than worry, but not quite fear, in his voice.
“I have not seen such an affliction before,” Fia said quietly, lifting the sheet carefully to look at the chief’s naked torso. “Oh my.” Her eyes went round as she pulled the sheet away, exposing a wide swath of angry blisters wrapping from his stomach around to his back on his right side, caked with what looked like bits of herbs.
Fia froze as if she did not know what to do for the man.
“Perhaps you should have taken him to Elena.” Annis’s quiet voice filled the otherwise silent room.
Kieron glared at the girl who seemed unaware of how much her doubt-filled words could undermine Fia’s confidence. Annis reminded him vividly of his younger days when Tavish’s more pointed efforts to undermine his confidence had done their job.
“You need to leave,” Kieron said to her, unwilling to let anyone weave doubt about Fia’s ability to heal the chief in Fia or in Tavish.
“But I am here to help,” Annis said, with a childish pout.
He took a moment to calm himself, then stepped in front of both Annis and Tavish, blocking Fia from her “helper” and from Tavish’s piercing stare.
“Then be helpful,” he said, softening his voice as if he spoke to a wean. “Fetch your things and Fia’s from the horses and have one of the women show you where you will be sleeping.” He glanced over his shoulder at Fia, who was still standing perfectly still, staring at the chief’s ravaged body. “Tavish, she is just deciding what to do first, ’tis all, I am sure of it. There will be things that need your attention—other than your da—now that we are back. I will stay and make sure she has everything she needs.”
Tavish actually growled but that no longer bothered Kieron. For all that Tavish was a skilled warrior, experience had taught Kieron his cousin was more bluster than bite, most of the time.
“Go,” Tavish said to Annis, much to the lass’s apparent surprise.
“But—”
Tavish cut her off with a quick slant of his eyes in her direction. She spun without another word and left without bothering to close the door behind her.
“You, as well,” Kieron said, and was relieved when his cousin gave a sharp nod. He paused before he closed the chamber door. “Make sure she heals him, Kier. She is here because you believed her and Lady Elena.”
Kieron nodded, knowing that both women believed Fia had sufficient skill, but even he was having a hard time believing that was true, in spite of the evidence of the Winter Stone, now that he could see Fia’s doubts. He turned back to Fia and started to speak, but realized her lips were moving, as if she were speaking to herself, though he could not hear her voice. Her eyes were darting from the chief’s torso, to his face, now badly ravaged by the strange welts, and back, all the while her lips moved. She laid a hand upon the chief’s brow. She closed her eyes, her lips still whispering. Her brow furrowed deeper and deeper until suddenly her eyes popped open.
“I need—” She looked up and glanced past Kieron. “Where is Annis?”
“I sent both her and Tavish away. She was annoying me and you made Tavish very nervous when you did not respond to his demand that you heal the chief.”
