Highland Healer (26 page)

“Laird,” Elspie’s voice penetrated his thoughts yet again. “She’s ready for bed, but she’ll need our help.”

“Nay,” Aileana said. “I can manage.”

“Elspie will help ye,” Toran commanded, his tone making it clear that he would brook no nonsense. “As will I. Come, lass.” He went to her and helped her stand while Elspie set the now empty tray aside. Gently, Toran started peeling her blood-soaked clothing from her while Elspie wrung a cloth out in hot water and began to dab at the wound.

“Ach, ’tis already nearly healed,” she exclaimed. “Ye think I’d be accustomed to this by now, but ’tis still a fair miracle what ye do, lass.”

Aileana gave her a tired smile.

Toran picked up her nightrail and as soon as Elspie finished cleaning the skin around the newly healed wound, lifted Aileana’s arms and helped her into it. Then he scooped her up and deposited her gently on the bed. Elspie fussed with the covers, layering them to her satisfaction.

“Warm enough, lass?” Toran asked.

“Aye.” He could barely hear Aileana’s response, and her eyes were already closed.

“Do ye want me to stay with her, Toran?”

“Nay, Elspie. I thank ye for yer care, but I’ll stay with her. I’ll send for ye if I’m needed elsewhere.”

“I’ll warn Donal to leave ye be,” Elspie said with a smile, picked up the empty tray and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Aileana was already deep into what she called her healing sleep. Toran wasn’t sure how it differed from normal sleep, but he took solace that she’d consumed the food and drink that Elspie had brought her well enough. Toran took the seat she’d vacated by the hearth and stared into the flames. Now he would wait and sit vigil over his wife.

His wife.

How could he have let her put herself in danger like that? He was her husband. It was his job to protect her. But no, his stubborn, determined wife was all too capable of taking on challenges that would daunt a lesser woman—or man. She’d gone straight to Coira, sure that she could convince Coira to let the lass go. He’d nearly lost his dinner when Coira’s blade had pierced her. He hadn’t been affected like that in battle since he was a beardless youth. But the attack had not been aimed at him. He knew how to handle that. No, it had been aimed with deadly intent at Aileana, and he thought his heart would break from the shock of it. If not for his and Donal’s quick action, Coira might have had time to strike again, and again, until even a talent like Aileana’s would not have saved her.

It had been all he could do to hold his dirk at Coira’s throat and not slice her open from ear to ear. No, Donal had come closer to finishing her off. But Aileana would not allow her attacker to die. She had more heart than sense, this one. So she thought that Coira would be somehow reformed by her healing? Toran didn’t think so.

It was interesting that after all they had seen her do in her time in the Aerie, it was this simple thing—forgiving her attacker and saving her life—that had transformed Donal’s opinion of her. It wasn’t that he’d been determined to doubt and distrust her. He’d just needed to see her good heart for himself. Jamie’s healing had been too sudden and too new. And Donal had not gone with them to try to save the MacAnalen. He hadn’t seen the grief and remorse that failure had cost her.

What she had done for Coira spoke volumes about the kind of person she was, and had been enough to convince even an unrepentant skeptic like Donal. But gaining Donal’s support was not worth this. Toran had never felt so helpless in his life. He vowed that he would never allow her to put herself in jeopardy for another person again.

Chapter Fifteen

When Aileana joined Toran on the rampart, it was still early morning when the sun hung just below the edge of the earth, and everything took on an eerie radiance, lit by reflections of the first trace of daylight. Aileana imagined that if she were ever to walk underwater, it would look and feel just like this. Despite its glow, the air was completely still, cold, heavy, and thick, pressing down on all it touched. Nothing moved. High, thin clouds streaked like claw marks across the deep blue of the sky.

Toran stared out at something in the glen. Donal stood stiffly by Toran, frowning toward Aileana but refusing to meet her gaze.

Toran had left her bed, reluctantly, upon hearing Donal shouting for him. Not very long after that, she’d been surprised when Elspie arrived at her door with food and drink to help her dress. She said the laird asked that she join him on the ramparts and had sent Kyle, who waited for her in the hall, to escort her. Aileana wondered at that, too. She knew the way to the ramparts.

For once, Elspie had made no comment. Aileana fretted over that. Elspie’s silence was unnerving.

Kyle, who usually offered a friendly greeting or had a story to tell to amuse her, also made no comment. He hastened her straight to his laird at such a pace that she’d been forced to focus on keeping her feet under her, looking neither right nor left as they hurried along.

Toran’s posture was guarded. He, too, refused to meet her eyes, and Aileana had no idea what would make him so closed off and…grave. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, he closed it again and motioned Kyle and Donal away without saying a word.

“Toran, what’s wrong?” Aileana asked, worried by his strange behavior.

“There’s something I must show ye,” he finally said, but pulled her back when she turned to peer over the wall to see what had drawn his attention. “Not yet. First ye must tell me something.”

“What, Toran? Tell me what’s wrong. Is it Coira? Please tell me she hasn’t been hung from the ramparts, has she?”

Toran grimaced and looked away from her, out over the bailey, where members of his clan went about their chores, a few of his warriors practicing their skills with swords and arrows. Aileana followed his gaze, seeing nothing unusual.

“This man ye call yer assistant…”

“Ranald. Yes? What does he have to do with Coi…”

Toran interrupted her. “Is he close to ye?”

“I’ve told you about Ranald,” she reminded him. Nerves loosened her tongue, and all this grim solemnity made her uncomfortable. “He was wounded. His leg healed badly. He could no longer fight, but he had some skill tending battlefield wounds, so he became my assistant.”

“I ken all that. Answer my question, Aileana. Is he close to ye?”

“Toran, what has happened?” His face, in profile, brooked no nonsense, and Aileana suddenly chilled, though no breath of wind stirred.

Toran looked at her then, and she scowled up at him. “Have you seen Ranald? Do the MacAnalens have him?” That would be good news; away from Colbridge, he could make a new home with them or join her in the Aerie.

Toran shook his head and sighed. He seemed to come to some difficult decision, and pulled her closer to the crenellation.

“It’s no’ good news, Aileana. I’m sorry to do this to ye, but I must make ye look. Is that Ranald?”

Aileana looked out over the glen into Colbridge’s camp, and reeled as her blood sank to her toes. “Oh, no,” she whispered against her fists quickly pressed to her lips. “Oh, no.”

Toran gently shook her arm, and she blindly turned in his direction.

“So it is, then,” Toran sighed. “I was afraid of that. He looked like the man I’d seen with ye in the camp.” He pulled her behind the merlon and away from the horrible sight of Ranald, lit by firelight, hanging by his arms, blood running from his body in several places, head slumped onto his naked chest.

“’Tis Colbridge’s doing,” he continued. “Ye can be sure of that. He’s trying to draw ye out, using the one person that he thinks ye care about.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Aileana managed to choke out through her tears.

“No, I dinna think so,” Toran answered her. “He’s no use to Colbridge dead. I think he believes Ranald was dear to ye…perhaps even a lover, and that ye will be compelled to go back to heal him, to save him. Colbridge canna get to us inside these walls, so he’s trying to draw us out.”

Memories flared bright and suddenly painful in Aileana’s heart at Toran’s use of the word lover, something they had so recently become. Husband. Wife. “You would let me go? You would help me save Ranald?”

Toran’s expression grew even grimmer and he shook his head. “Nay.”

“But, Toran, he’ll die, horribly. Colbridge won’t stop torturing him until he’s dead.”

“I can’t help that, Aileana. As much as I might wish to for yer sake and his, I canna help Ranald, not by sending ye back into Colbridge’s clutches. Ye’re mine now. I won’t risk ye.”

“But he’s…”

Suddenly a shout echoed up from the glen. “Laird Lathan!”

Toran pulled Aileana further behind the merlon, then peered out.

“Colbridge, the cocky bastard, alone, in the glen,” he said, as Donal ran up to stand with him. “He must have seen us up here.”

“Out of range?” Donal asked.

“What do ye think?” Toran’s reply was terse. “Get the archers ready, in case he comes closer.” Donal nodded and moved away to do his laird’s bidding.

“Laird Lathan,” the call came again. “I’ve something you should see. You and the Healer you stole from me.”

Toran moved into sight and called back, “What do ye want, Colbridge?”

“Get the Healer,” the reply came. “This is for her enjoyment, as well.”

Aileana watched Toran’s hands close into fists out of sight of the man below in the glen, then he turned and gestured her over. “Ye must be brave, lass,” he said quietly.

Aileana slowly moved to stand next to Toran and lifted her chin. Her instincts were screaming at her to stay hidden from Colbridge, but she had no choice if she hoped to save Ranald.

“Aileana, so good of you to join us,” Colbridge sneered, then gestured behind him. “You’re late to the festivities, and I fear Ranald has already enjoyed himself too much.”

Tears started afresh in Aileana’s eyes as she once again beheld Ranald’s slumped and bloody form.

“What do you want?” Aileana called out, silently cursing the tremor in her voice as much as she cursed the monster on the glen below her. “Why have you hurt him?”

“Why, you, my dear,” Colbridge answered, as if nothing in the world was amiss. “I want you. Come back. Your lover needs you. He’s eager for your touch.”

“Cut him down!” Toran shouted at her side.

“No, I don’t think so,” Colbridge replied, reasonably. Then his voice turned hard. “In fact, I think I’ll leave him right where he is, so the Healer can watch as I carve him up. I’ve already ruined his good leg. He’ll never walk again. Not that he’ll need to, by the time I finish with him. Unless you come back, Aileana. I’ll let you save him. Or stay where you are, and watch him die. Slowly. In agony. And then it will be your turn, when I break down your walls. Everyone with you will die. You, will, too. As slowly as your lover.” Colbridge laughed. “We’ll see if you can Heal yourself.”

Aileana gasped at the brutality Colbridge promised, and Toran reached over to take her cold hand in his strong one.

“She’s no’ coming out,” Toran growled. “No’ now, no’ ever. Kill that man if ye must, but do it quickly. He’s not yer enemy, Colbridge. I am.”

“No,” Colbridge refused, smiling. “I’m not finished with him yet. It’s up to you, Aileana, how long he suffers. Whether he dies strung up like a pig to slaughter. It’s your choice, Healer. Save him, or die like he does.”

With that, Colbridge whipped his mount around and rode back to his camp. As he approached Ranald, he pulled his dirk. Toran pulled Aliana’s face against his shoulder but he could not prevent her from seeing Ranald’s body arc against his bonds in agony as Colbridge slashed his torso from shoulder to ribs.

****

Aileana opened the door to her chamber, her refuge, where she’d retreated after seeing Colbridge’s horrible display, in answer to the soft knock that awakened her from her exhausted, grief-stricken doze. Toran looked down at her, observing, measuring, in that quiet way he had. The connection between them was strong, but she didn’t need it. His grave countenance told her without words that the scene with Colbridge still weighed on his mind. She stepped back and waved him in, resigned to the coming confrontation.

“Whatever you have to say to me, come in and say it. You don’t need to stand out in the hall.”

“I have questions,” he began, closing the door behind him and following her as she walked toward the hearth. “And I need honest answers. No’ lies.”

Shocked, Aileana spun to face him.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her face up to his. His features were twisted with anguish and realized that he thought she had betrayed him somehow with Ranald…or soon would.

“Toran, put me down.” When he didn’t release her, but continued to hold her, his eyes searching hers for answers, she kicked him. “Put me down. Please! You’re hurting me.”

Toran released her as if she had suddenly become as hot as the flames in the hearth. He continued to stare at her, saying nothing, as he stepped back and crossed his arms over his massive chest. Aileana wanted to put her hands on those arms, to pull them around her so that she could sink into his warmth and strength. She felt safe when Toran held her, but she knew that he would not hold her now…and might never do so again. Ranald’s torture was more than she could ignore. As soon as she could, she’d leave the Aerie and go to him. And somehow, Toran knew that.

“What do you want to know?” Aileana asked, wondering again if she would have any answers that would satisfy him.

“Why are ye here? And what is Ranald, to ye, really?”

Aileana sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to pound her fists on Toran’s chest. “Why am I here? How can you ask that? You know why I’m here. You brought me.”

“Did I? Or did ye somehow bewitch me into wanting ye, into bringing ye? While ye Healed my head, did ye plant yer wishes there, too? Ye were conveniently at hand at just the right moment…or had ye planned that, also? To get inside the Aerie, learn what ye could, then report back to Colbridge? Only when I didn’t release ye right away, Colbridge tortured a man ye care about, so ye’d remember yer duty and bring yer information back out. He has no interest in Ranald, other than using him to compel ye. He wants to know what ye know about the Aerie, and if ye fall into his hands, ye’ll be forced to tell him everything. The moment he gets the chance, his men will be inside our gates to finish what their siege could not.”