Page 42 of Fallen
The grim look on the red-haired outlaw’s face made her belly tighten.
“Thank ye for coming, Sister Coira.” The formality in Craeg’s voice caused Coira to tense. His face was a study in composure. Had he forgotten the things he’d said to her in that clearing? Of course, he’d called for her help, not for any other reason.
“Peace be with ye, Craeg,” Coira answered, dipping her gaze. Once again, shyness was getting the better of her.
“It’s good to see ye,” he said, breaking the awkward silence between them. “I—”
“MacKinnon’s at Kilbride, Craeg,” Farlan interrupted from behind Coira.
She glanced back up to see that Craeg had gone still, his expression suddenly hawkish.
“It’s true,” Coira murmured. “He’s brought the Dunan Guard with him … someone in Torrin has betrayed ye after all, it seems.”
Craeg’s mouth stretched into a humorless smile. “Aye … I was hoping they would.”
Coira frowned. “Excuse me? Ye told me the folk of this land were loyal to ye. Why would ye want one of them to inform on ye?”
“I wanted to draw MacKinnon out,” Craeg replied, his smile widening. “So we can face each other at last.”
“But didn’t ye already do that … earlier in the summer?”
Craeg snorted. “That was an ambush, not a fair fight. This time we’re ready for him.”
Judging from the gleam in Craeg’s eye, he couldn’t wait to face his half-brother.
“Victory in battle will feel hollow indeed, if yer band sickens and dies,” she said crisply, her attention shifting to the tent behind him. “Are yer men in there?”
Craeg nodded, his expression sobering.
“One of them is in a bad way.” The older woman added softly. “I don’t think he’s got much time left.”
“My woman, Fenella, has taken ill too.” The red-haired outlaw spoke up behind Craeg. “Will ye take a look at her as well?”
Coira met the man’s gaze. “Of course, I will.”
Setting down her staff, she withdrew her scarf from her basket and began to tie it around her mouth and nose.
“What are ye doing?” Farlan asked, suspicion edging his voice as he watched her preparations.
“Just taking precautions,” Coira replied. She glanced Craeg’s way then. “Ye must keep folk away from those who have taken sick.”
He nodded, his handsome face taut with concern now. “Fenella has been looking after the sick men.” He motioned to the man and woman behind him. “As have Gunn, Flora, and I.”
Coira drew in a deep, steadying breath. “Then all three of ye are at risk as well.” She shifted her attention to where Farlan stood a few yards behind her. “Keep back from this area … and warn the others to do the same.”
The young man nodded, his brow furrowing. He then glanced over at Craeg, awaiting his confirmation.
“Do as she says,” Craeg said. His voice was cool, calm. She was grateful that he wasn’t letting fear of the sickness, which could turn folk witless, dominate his decision-making. “Let the others know that MacKinnon is at Kilbride … and that we’ll be riding out to meet him first thing tomorrow.”
Coira caught her breath and turned back to Craeg, to find him observing her. His mouth then lifted at the corners. “Aye, that’s tomorrow’s plan … but tonight we focus on other matters,” he said quietly. “Since we’re already at risk of getting sick, consider me and Flora yer assistants.”
Coira’s own mouth curved, although he wouldn’t see that under the scarf that protected her face. “There’s no point in ye taking risks though … keep yer distance from those afflicted unless absolutely necessary.”
He nodded, stepping aside to let Coira past. “Is there anything ye need?”
“A bowl of steaming hot water and a cake of lye soap would help.”
“I’ll see to it,” Flora spoke up. She shot Coira a quick, grateful smile, before hurrying off to fetch the water.
