Page 19 of Highland Slayer
Estevan was looking over at Mateo, lying flat on his back, breathing loudly. “The woman he carried from the river is also ill,” he said. “Whatever she has, she gave it tae him.”
Rodion looked at Titan. “You know that Matty has always had weakened lungs,” he said. “He has since he was a child. Any chill he caught went to his chest, and I can remember Aunt Amabella using hot water and mint and rosemary to help him breathe. Remember how we could not play with him in the winter?”
Titan nodded. “Aye,” he said. “If there was an illness around, Matty would catch it.”
“Then I need things to help him,” Rodion said. “If we do not, I fear this may grow worse, and I cannot explain to Uncle Markus and Aunt Ama how I let their son die on the cold floor of a nunnery.”
He had a point. Even though Markus de Wolfe and his wife, Amabella—Mateo’s parents—weren’t actually Rodion’s aunt and uncle, the families were so close that the familial distinction was simply accepted. Affectionate terms of address were used by all, regardless of bloodlines.
“He’ll not die here if I can help it,” Estevan said. He gestured between Rodion and Kaladin. “The two of ye decide what needs tae be done tae help him and what medicaments ye need. I’ll speak tae the mother abbess and ask if we can stay here until Mateo is well enough tae travel. Titan, ye come with me. I may need yer skills of persuasion.”
Titan nodded, and he and Estevan headed back over to the opposite side of the sanctuary, where Mother Michael was still trying to glean information from Leonore. They seemed to be having quite a conversation as Estevan and Titan walked up, but Leonore’s chattering ended in a coughing fit, sounding much like Mateo had. Listening to that cough, Mother Michael shook her head.
“The poor lass is ill,” she said to Estevan. “To be truthful, I’m surprised she is not dead, given what she has been through.”
“Oh?” Estevan said. “Ye’ve learned more about her?”
Mother Michael nodded. “Aye,” she said. “According to her, she’s a queen to her people, from a place calledSödra öarna. She says that is the name of her home.”
“That’s one of the southern isles,” Estevan said. “I’ve heard of it.”
“Are you certain?”
Estevan nodded. “Ye must remember that my father is the Earl of Torridon, far tae the north, so he must deal with the lords of the isles frequently,” he said. “We know the names of many of the isles they rule.”
“Is he peaceable with them?”
“For the most part,” Estevan said. “He does not bother them and they dunna bother him.”
Mother Michael nodded in understanding, her focus moving to Leonore as the woman continued to cough. “She says that she was given or sold to men to the west,” she said. “A hostage for an alliance, I believe. It is difficult to know what she means, but however she came to live with them, she has escaped them. She was trying to go home when her boat went ashore and she nearly drowned.”
“And that is when we found her,” Estevan said.
“Aye, you did,” Mother Michael agreed. However, she kept her focus on Leonore. “She keeps drawing something in the dirt and speaks ofaleam.”
Estevan frowned. “Hazard?” he said, translating the Latin word. “Does she mean peril?”
Mother Michael nodded. “She could be speaking of her journey and how dangerous it was,” she said. “Certainly, it must have been terrible.”
“What is she drawing in the dirt, mother?” Titan asked. “May I see it?”
Mother Michael nodded, leading Titan over to Leonore, who was now being helped back to her cot by a couple of the other nuns. The light was growing in the sanctuary now that dawn had arrived and a few of the candle banks were being lit. Titan could see the scribbling and knelt down, peering closely at the dirt. Mother Michael stood with him for a few moments until one of the nuns helping Leonore called to her. She left Titan crouched on the ground with Estevan standing over him.
“What is it?” Estevan said. “Do ye see something?”
Titan didn’t say anything for a moment. He was staring at one of the drawings in particular. As he pointed at it, Estevan bent over his shoulder, giving the drawing a closer look.
“What do ye see?” he said. “It looks like water tae me. She’s drawn the waves.”
But Titan shook his head. “Those are not waves,” he said. “Waves do not usually have a head on them. See it?”
It took Estevan several moments to see what he meant. There was, indeed, a head on one of wavy lines. He knelt down next to Titan, his brow furrowed.
“A serpent?” he said, fishing for answers. He looked at Titan. “Think about this, now. She says she was sold, or given, tae men in the west.”
Titan was following his line of thought. “West of us is Ireland,” he said. “But southwest is the Isle of Mann.”
Estevan was on to something. That was clear in his expression, the way his eyes moved back to the drawing. He finally put his finger on it, literally. His finger was in the dirt.
