Page 50 of Highlander's Rebellious Affair
They all began to count the seconds until the antidote would take effect and Ian would open his eyes.
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“It’s nay workin’,” Hope panicked as they stared at Ian’s unmoving body on the floor. She tried to keep her breathing calm, but failed. Her hands moved to his chest and then his neck to check his pulse. “He has a very weak pulse.”
Callum stepped away and so did Rhea, and Hope lifted her worried eyes to them. “What is happenin’?”
Ian coughed before any of them could answer, then he gasped and opened his eyes slowly. Hope rushed to his side, and lifted his head off the ground as he coughed. “It worked,” she said in a breathless voice, and swallowed. Ian’s gaze met with hers, and she hugged him tight, and closed her eyes, grateful that the plan worked out fine.
“Lyall?” Ian asked in a weak voice, and Hope released him so Callum could help him to his feet. “Did ye get to Lyall?” he asked again, and turned around to look at the guard he had given the task. The guard nodded, and Hope held his hand and led him to the straw mat in a corner of the hut. “Ye need to rest, and allow Rhea take care of the rest from here,” she said to him as he sat.
Hope sat beside him, and used the napkin she held to gently wipe his lips. “Lyall’s men would search the entire grounds for the man who tried to kill him, ye should find a way to get out of here first. Head back to the village, the cottage where Peter and his daughter are, and wait till everythin’ is settled,” Ian instructed. The man nodded, then walked out of the hut.
“How do ye feel?” Callum asked.
“My insides hurt,” Ian complained, and turned to Hope. “But I am fine, ye both should go check on Lyall, and report back to me what they are doin’ to treat him. Remember we have the antidote, but they cannae ken that.”
Rhea and Callum nodded, then walked out of the hut, and Hope sighed when they were alone. Ian turned to her, and their gazes met. “I am all right, Hope,” he whispered to her, but it did nothing to ease the frown on her forehead. She had been scared for a minute that something had gone wrong, and they couldn’t bring him back.
Thankfully he didn’t lose too much blood from where the arrow had hit his skin, and she took care of the wound gently, applying a balm to ease the pain and stop it from getting infected.
“This is a risky plan,” she replied, and sucked in a deep breath. She didn’t want to complain, or make it seem like she wasn’t in support, but a lot of things could have gone wrong.
“It will be taken care of,” Ian reassured her, and coughed. He closed his eyes, and Hope saw his discomfort from the tightening of his jaw and the haggard sound of his breathing. She remembered Orlaith’s instructions about the antidote, and her mentioning that it would take a few hours for the full effect to work in his system.
Hope helped him lie back on the bed, then she went to a corner of the hut and returned with a bowl of water and napkin. “I will place this on yer forehead, in case a fever comes,” she said and he relaxed on the mat.
When she was done mopping his forehead, she sat and watched him. Ian had fallen into a light sleep, and she admired him as she sat alone, gently touching his cheeks and lips. He sighed in his sleep, and a smile that crept up his lips showed her that he was peaceful.
Rhea and Callum had still not returned with any news as to what was going on, and she was anxious to hear what they had to say. Lyall’s tyranny had gone on for far too long, and a part of her wished this was his end, and they didn’t have to heal him from the effect of the poison, but Ian was not a man who would kill.
Hope admired his kind heart, and his fierceness. Even after everything Lyall had done, Ian would still not take his life. He was a good man, and he would make a good Laird.
Hope had dozed off a little when Rhea and Callum walked into the hut. She stirred awake when she felt a soft tap on her shoulder, and opened her eyes to see Rhea staring at her softly.
She sat up, and cleared her throat. “Any news?”
Callum nodded. “Lyall is still unconscious, but not dead. His guards are confused, and the other Lairds are scared. They have requested that they want to return to their homes, but there is no one in charge to give the order.”
They all turned to Ian sleeping on the bed, and Callum sighed. “He is the Laird’s adviser, so he is supposed to be in charge.”
“Not tonight,” Hope replied. Ian needed to rest, so the effect of the poison could wear off completely. “Tonight, we find a way to maintain peace on the camp grounds, and by dawn Ian would be up and he would make a decision, and give an order.”
Callum nodded, and Rhea agreed too. Hope exhaled when Callum left the hut, and Rhea smiled at her. “Ye are exhausted. Ye should sleep, I will watch him for the rest of the night.”
Hope walked over to the mat, and lay beside Ian. She hoped the night would be over soon. She was fast asleep before her head touched the mat.
* * *
Ian was outside the hut by first light. He felt more energetic than he did the previous day, and Hope was still fast asleep when he left. Rhea stood beside him and they stared into the central camp fire.
“It is very tempting to allow him die,” Ian said, his gaze not leaving the flames once. “He has killed many, and he will ruin our land.”
“He deserves to die,” Rhea replied, “but ye will nay be the man to kill him, because ye are nothin’ like him.”
Lyall’s words flashed in his mind, and he tried to put it out of his mind, but he couldn’t.Would I make a terrible Laird? Was my faither a terrible Laird? Is that why most of his men turned their backs on him?
Ian remembered his father to be a man of kind words, and a soft heart. He shouldn’t pay attention to anything Lyall said to him, but it was all he could think about.
