Page 54 of Kidnapped By her Highland Enemy
Time slipped by and while fatigue tugged at her body, she waited for Lucas; when he did come into the room, grim-faced and tense, Maisie already knew the answer to his search.
“They got away,” she surmised.
He nodded curtly then looked at the body on the bed. “And that nay all, lass—” he took the scroll from the inner folds of his kilt and handed it to her. “—read it.”
The words were Gaelic, but she understood them perfectly enough that ice chilled her spine, “The next target will be your heart, Laird Barclay…”
19
Ahorrid pall had descended on the castle the next morning, almost erasing the happiness from the pre-marriage celebration. Lucas had sent word to the priest that the wedding would be postponed for a while as he and his men were set on finding who had killed one of their own.
The subdued air had taken to everyone, except Lucas who had struck out from dawn, and Maisie had found herself back in the healing rooms to speak with the eldest healer there.
“Ye want to learn with us?” Elder Agathe said, her spindly fingers expertly plucking off vervain leaves.
“Aye,” Maisie nodded. “I realize it’s unusual—”
“Nay, nay,” Agathe shook her head. “Tis nay unusual. I’ve been alive long enough to have served two ladies who were healersthemselves. Me only concern is that ye are soon to marry, yer time will nay be much.”
“I’ve learned a decent amount already,” Maisie said. “And—”
A shout from the entrance of the room had them turning to see two guards carrying a wounded man with blond hair in their arms to a bed. Maisie darted up and ran to the man’s side, her frantic rush nearly blinding her into thinking that it was Lucas on that bed – but it was not.
The poor man was a mess of blood, and ripped flesh. Among the multitude of gashes on his chest, two long furrows of torn flesh oozed blood on his belly.
“’Tis shallow,” Maisie said as she watched the women wash his wounds. “He’s lucky they didn’t strike his vitals. He’ll need sewing up and a paste of royal fern and comfrey to heal.”
“Aye,” Agathe gave Maisie a long look. “Ye might do well with us, lass, but let’s see.”
While the healers busied with the man, Maisie asked the guards, “Was it a boar who tore him?”
“Nay, me lady,” a man shook his head. “Roderick is a sentry of the outer near the loch. Nay wild animal has ever been seen there and even more, we saw no signs of one. I ken this is another attack like the one from last night.”
Fear began to build a block of ice in her chest, and she bit her lip—Lucas would not be pleased when he heard this. “Thank ye for carrying him in so quickly, ye can go back to yer posts now. We’ll handle it from here.”
Turning to Agathe, she excused herself, “Please pardon me, I need to go see Lucas’s father.”
With a hurried curtsy, she rushed out the room and headed to Cinead’s meeting room, but only a few feet away, she heard men speaking inside. Faced with a dilemma she wondered if she should walk in or let the men finish before going inside—but no, the matter was too important to let it wait.
Knocking on the door loud enough to get the men to pause, she walked in and met Lord McKenna’s, her father’s, a portly laird she had not met, and Cinead’s gazes.
“I apologize for interruptin’,” she said, “But I need to speak with ye, sir.”
“Go ahead, lass,” Cinead waved her forward, “We are all friends here.”
“Another one of you—our—guard has been injured,” she said. “I was in the healing rooms when two men brought him. He is alive but whoever had attacked us from last night, has done it again.”
Cinead did not look surprised, “I expected that, lass.”
“Then what shall we do?” She asked.
“That is what we are discussin’” Cinead said, gesturing to Angus. “Between the four of us, we are trying to find any clan or laird who is our mutual enemy.”
“And have ye found one?” She looked to them. “And will negotiation be of any use?”
“As much as I would like to think so,” Cinead’s lips twisted down. “I believe it is past that point.”
Maisie nodded, “When will Lucas be back?”
