Читать книгу A Healer For The Highlander - Terri Brisbin, Terri Brisbin - Страница 13

Chapter Three

The clouds gathered as she made her way along the road through Achnacarry village towards the castle. Anna lifted her woollen shawl over her head and tossed the end of it across her basket to protect the supplies she carried. If the chieftain gave his permission, she would see Davidh’s son before returning to the cottage.

There was so much work yet to be done and she’d not planned to reveal her presence until she was ready. She could almost hear the fates laughing at her for believing she would control every aspect of her endeavour. If only that boy had not ventured so close... But once he’d fallen she could not ignore him or his injury.

The sigh that escaped her then seemed to echo across the road as she continued on, not wanting to delay this meeting for even a moment more. She nodded a greeting to an old man who walked by her away from the castle. Though she passed by a number of people of all ages along the way, not many acknowledged her. She was a stranger here, for now, so it was to be expected. Would there ever be a place or time when she was not that?

Her life had consisted in segments for as long as she could remember. Her earliest years she remembered not so she would have to accept the explanation her mother had given her. Then, the years spent here, living above the falls while her mother saw to the ills and hurts of those who came to her. A smile came to her face when she thought on the next part—the months with Malcolm.

A few glorious and shining months of love and happiness and hope. Anna would live on those memories her whole life.

Then, her flight north and separation from him and the birth of their son. Iain had only two years when the news of Malcolm’s murder spread across the Highlands and clans. Her mother had helped her through that desperate time—and Iain, a sunny, happy child, did, as well. His childhood years seemed to fly by and then her mother’s passing drove Anna to make her decision to return here.

To the lands and clan of her son’s father.

Anna glanced ahead and saw the guards standing on each side of the large iron gates that allowed entrance to the castle grounds and keep. Would they send for Davidh at her, a stranger’s, word? They caught sight of her and moved to block her from entering, as guards did.

‘What is your business within, mistress?’ the taller one said. His hand on his sword reminded her that she was an outsider and unknown to them.

‘Davidh Cameron said to call on him this morn. He said to send word to him of my arrival.’

The change in their expressions and the strange glint in their eyes happened and fled so quickly that Anna almost missed it. It was obvious that they misunderstood her purpose or the handsome commander’s wishes in this. Anna drew back the shawl to expose her basket, filled with various jars and containers of medicaments and such.

‘He has asked me to see to his son,’ she said.

Now sheepishness entered the men’s gazes and they nodded and stepped back to their positions on each side of the gate as one, the shorter one, called out to someone within to send word to their commander. Anna expected Davidh to come for her, but another man hastened down the path to the gates instead.

‘Come! Come,’ he called out. The guards nodded her to go so she walked through the gates, stopping when the man reached her. ‘He is expecting you, though the chieftain is too busy to speak to you just now. Come, you can wait inside.’

She had to quicken her steps to keep up with this man and she did, arriving at the doorway of the keep out of breath. But he was not done yet and led her within, down a long corridor towards a noisy chamber. As they reached the doorway there, she heard angry words being exchanged. The man took her by the arm and tugged her to a place by the wall.

‘Stay here until Davidh calls for you.’ The man nodded at the stool there and walked away before she could say aye or nay.

Anna sat as directed and then glanced about the chamber, the great hall of the keep, and sought out the only one she knew here. She heard his voice before she saw him. There he was, standing at his chieftain’s side, involved in some discussion. Well, from the raised, angry tones, it sounded more like an argument, but she was a stranger to the proceedings here and could not gauge if there was true anger or something else.

Studying the various people up on the dais, she could see that Davidh was held in high esteem, not only by his clan’s chieftain but also by those who served the laird. Several times as she watched, the chieftain asked for his counsel on the matter and others referred to that opinion in their own statements. This seemed to be about an incursion on to their lands and the question was about the actions to be taken. The discussion continued for some time, and, though not familiar with the particulars of it, it sounded as though Davidh’s judgement would prevail.

‘Enough.’

When spoken by the chieftain in a tone and loudness that all could hear, the arguing was done. She watched as the powerful man sat back against his chair and nodded. Everyone surrounding him stepped away and waited on his pronouncement. Instead of calling out orders to them, Robert Cameron spoke softly then.

‘I will make my decision by nightfall and Davidh will have your orders.’

From their stances and the manner in which they held their bodies, Anna could tell some were not pleased at all by this. Whether they wanted the chieftain to act now or whether they did not wish for Davidh to play such an integral role, she could not tell. But clearly the chieftain’s men were not in agreement with this. When the small gathering broke up, Davidh raised his head and nodded at her.

So, he knew she was there. He called not for her, but motioned a servant to his side and spoke to the woman. Anna watched as she picked up a cup and pitcher and made her way down from the dais, along the hall’s stone walls to where she sat waiting.

‘The commander said ’twill be some time, mistress,’ the woman said, holding out the cup. ‘Would you like some ale while you wait?’ Anna nodded and took the cup. As the woman filled it, she continued, ‘There is yet some porridge or bread and cheese in the kitchen if you have not broken your fast yet.’

‘Nay,’ she replied in a low voice. ‘The ale is enough for me.’ Anna nodded at the woman who curtsied as though Anna were of higher station than she was. ‘My thanks to you,’ Anna added before the woman returned to the dais and those to whom she should bow.

Anna held her basket on her lap and allowed her shawl to drop around her shoulders. Tucking her loosened hair back under her kerchief, she waited and watched the comings and goings of the mighty Cameron’s hall.

So, this was the place where Malcolm had lived.

She’d never been into the village before and certainly not the hall. Her mother had hidden her presence from the villagers and, until Malcolm had found her by accident in the woods near the falls, no one had known she existed.

This hall was grand and she could almost see him running the length of it as a lad. He would have sat on the dais next to or nigh to his father, Euan Cameron. As his son and tanist of the clan, Malcolm had been trained from birth to fight and to rule. Her breath caught then as she realised the truth of her mother’s words spoken so long ago.

His father would never have allowed their marriage—bairn to be born or not. A son of this great place would marry the daughter of another, not the penniless offspring of a healer. The tears surprised her and she wiped them away. Though it had not felt so, her mother’s actions had saved her great pain. Her mother had understood what would have happened if they’d remained.

A leman would be the only place she could claim in his life. Loved, certainly, but never to be at his side except in the dark of night or the moments of privacy they could seek out. And a son born in wedlock would supplant any place their son would have held. Anna reached up and wiped away more tears.

It was strange that this place had caused such a long-overdue realisation, but it had. Now, though, she needed to gather her wits and her control and speak to the current laird to gain a place here. So that her son could claim his place here when the truth was known to all.

‘Anna Mackenzie. The chieftain calls you now.’

That man who’d led her inside stood before her now and she glanced up to find everyone in the hall looking in her direction. So caught up in her past was she that she had missed her summons forward.

Anna stood quickly and lifted her basket on to her arm. Following the man forward, she stopped where he pointed and she curtsied to the man seated above her without looking up. She waited until the laird spoke her name, signalling her to rise.

‘My commander tells me you are a healer, Mistress Mackenzie.’

‘I am, Laird,’ she said, without raising her gaze.

‘You seem young to be such,’ The Cameron said. ‘How came you to be here in Achnacarry?’

‘My mother lived here some years ago and I wished to return.’

‘Your mother?’ Davidh asked now. She did not yet raise her eyes, but he came down the steps and stood next to her. ‘You did not say your mother lived here.’ He moved between her and his chieftain then. ‘Anna?’

‘I think I understand,’ The Cameron said from his seat. ‘Your mother was...’ She did look at him then and saw that he knew.

‘Aye, Laird. She was the one they called the Witch of Caig Falls.’ The word echoed through the rest of the hall, not because she’d said it but because those watching whispered it then. ‘Though she was only a talented healer and could cast no spells or enchantments.’

‘Surely she could not,’ The Cameron said. ‘She was a God-fearing woman. The rest were just rumours.’ He waved Davidh back; his action declared she was no threat.

Had this man, the head of the mighty Cameron clan, just defended her mother against the fanciful but very dangerous claims of being a witch? His eyes crinkled with merriment as he smiled at her. The last chieftain here would never have done such a thing, nor the one before him. Malcolm’s father had ignored the threats against her when they began. That was another reason her mother had chosen their time to flee—a woman called witch was living in a dangerous situation and it would take but one incident to spark into a life-threatening one.

‘Aye, Laird,’ she said now. ‘She had the skills of a talented healer. I only hope I can be as able as she was.’

‘Well, Old Ranald will be glad to have someone take over those duties from him. He has more skill with a saw and wooden splints than any of the finer healing talents. You will live by the falls? Davidh said the cottage there is fit for living, but remote.’ A glance at Davidh who had stepped to her side revealed his nod. ‘Will you not live here in the village?’

‘My mother’s plants yet grow near the falls. ’Tis easier to cultivate what I need there.’ Anna glanced around and wondered which of the laird’s counsellors would turn against her if she did not agree to his terms. At least one dark, narrowed gaze met hers—the man who’d escorted her in was not happy over this, over her. No need for trouble now, she thought, so, she acquiesced. ‘But, if it would please you, I can make arrangements to visit the village each day and see to any needs.’

He considered her offer seriously and for some time. She was almost on the point of giving in and moving to the village instead, but the touch of Davidh’s hand on her arm, something hidden from the view of most everyone there, forestalled her from doing that.

‘If it would serve you better to live out there, you have my permission to do so,’ The Cameron declared. ‘And my protection while you serve my clan here.’

‘My thanks, Laird.’

‘Davidh, come to me after you have seen to your son.’

She released a breath she had not known she’d held in and nodded. She curtsied then and watched as he stood and left the dais. Though others there turned their attentions away from the dais, Anna could feel their gazes upon her. They were curious about the woman just welcomed into their midst.

‘I brought what I think I will need, but I would like to see what you have been using.’

‘This way,’ he said, leading her back the way she’d entered.

‘Who was the man who brought me in?’

‘That was Struan, The Cameron’s steward.’

She stopped right then and there in surprise. The steward had been sent like a common servant to fetch her from the gate? The steward? The same man who’d stared at her with open dislike in his eyes was the steward and in charge of everything in The Cameron’s household here at Achnacarry.

‘You sent the laird’s steward to the gates?’

‘Aye,’ Davidh said. ‘Robert wished to continue the discussion and you needed to be admitted. Struan was the only one not needed in the hall just then.’

Men could be both practical and oblivious at the same time. Davidh had walked on and she rushed to catch up to his long-legged strides. They left the keep and the yard and walked back into the village. Now, people openly stared as she passed by them. Word would spread about her identity quickly, for that was how news raced through these small villages. Soon, everyone would know.

They turned down a path and she smelled the scent of hot metal and fire and knew the smithy was nearby. Soon, they walked by it and stopped at the large cottage next door.

‘This is your cottage?’ she asked, peering around him at the dwelling. ‘Is your wife within?’

Now, he stopped and turned to face her. His face had lost most of its colouring, making him appear gaunt and frightening. He took a step towards her and she fought not to shrink back away from him. He leaned down closer to her and spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘My wife died of fever a few years ago and I have raised him since.’

‘I...am...’ She could not speak the right words to him now.

‘I do not wish to discuss Mara before my son, so I pray you will not mention her within.’ His voice betrayed the emotions he must feel. She heard the loss and grief and yearning there and her own heart wanted to weep for his loss. ‘This...’ He paused then and cleared his throat making hers feel even tighter with the emotions she could see and hear within him. ‘This is where Jamie, the blacksmith...’ he nodded over her shoulder at the smithy ‘...and his wife Suisan live. She cares for Colm when I am on duty.’

‘I understand,’ she said softly.

He nodded, knocked on the door and then lifted the latch gently. She smiled at the efforts he took not to disturb those within. For all his strength and formidable size, he softened as he must for his ailing son.

The good thing about this cottage was that it was filled with light and fresh air. Often, those treating the sick closed the windows and built up the fire which allowed the smoke from the peat and wood being burned to fill the often cramped place. In her mother’s opinion, that did more harm than any possible good for most ailments and illnesses. Anna followed Davidh in, smiling at the anxious woman standing next to the pallet.

‘Suisan?’ she asked. At the woman’s nod, she introduced herself. ‘I am Anna Mackenzie.’

‘From the falls?’ the woman asked.

The damn rumours and stories always followed her and her mother before her. ‘Aye, from the falls.’

‘I am glad he sought ye out. The puir wee lad is not much better this morn than he has been these last days.’ Anna had learned early that suspicion was hard to fight and so this unexpected sense of welcome surprised her. ‘Let me show ye what the last healer gave us to treat him.’

‘I would see your son first,’ she said, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

Whether he’d known it or not, Davidh had placed himself between her and his son. The sense of protectiveness about his son pervaded his every action and deed and somehow that made her heart warm to him. It was something she’d never had in her life, so she always seemed to notice it elsewhere.

The chieftain’s commander eased his stance and stepped aside, allowing her closer to the small boy lying on the pallet. With his eyes closed, she could not tell if he slept or not. Kneeling down, she leaned in and watched the rise and fall of his chest. Not good. The rasping sounds and the shallow quickness of the breaths were not good.

A quick assessment of the colouring in his fingernails and lips told her more. His eyes fluttered and then opened when she laid the back of her hand on his forehead.

‘Good morn to you, Colm,’ she said softly. ‘How are you feeling this day?’

Anna leaned back and sat on her heels so that the boy could see those he knew behind her. Frightening him would make his condition worse. When he tried to sit up, she slid her arm behind him and used her other hand to guide him do so.

And then he began to cough.