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Authors: Hannah Howell

Highland Hero (31 page)

BOOK: Highland Hero
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“Ye scared several years out of me,” Tatha complained as she tried to dab the water from the front of her deep blue gown with a scrap of clean linen. “Do ye always creep up behind people?”

“Only when they are behaving in a strange manner,” he snapped.

“Strange? I wasnae doing anything strange.”

“Nay?” He stepped closer to the rowan tree and reached up toward the knotted cord she had draped in the branches. “And what is this then?”

Tatha quickly moved to his side and slapped his hand away. “ ’Tis naught to concern ye.”

“Ye dinnae think people will wonder why there is a knotted cord in this tree?”

“Nay. I doubt anyone will e’en see the thing. Ye wouldnae have seen it put there if ye hadnae been tiptoeing about.”

“I ken what that is. ’Tis some spell of protection.”

Her eyes widening, Tatha looked at Sir David in surprise and a deepening interest. “The old ways are practiced here?”

“Nay, that nonsense isnae done here. I willnae allow it.”

“Nonsense? Nay here?” Tatha stepped back to the well and smoothed her hand over the stone. “Aye, that
nonsense
is here. I suspect that
nonsense
has been here since long before this keep was built. And ye ken what it is, for all ye call it
nonsense,
or ye wouldnae ken the meaning of that knotted cord. Someone has taught ye a thing or two.”

“Aye,” he said in a cold, flat voice, “my mother, who learned such foolishness from her mother, and ’tis just such blasphemous games that got the woman beaten to death five years ago.”

Although she felt a surge of sympathy for the man, Tatha smothered the emotion, knowing that he neither wanted it, nor would he appreciate it. He was trying to frighten her. He succeeded to some extent, but fear of the dangers of superstition was an old one to her. Tatha had been taught at a very young age how to face it, accept it, and then push it aside.

“I am sorry. Ignorance and fear can be dangerous, deadly things,” she said quietly. “My aunt Mairi was oftimes threatened and was the subject of many an evil whisper. ’Tis odd, for she did no one any harm. In truth, she was a great healer. She taught me all of her skills. I oft wonder if the skill to fix that which so afright-ens people, sickness and injury, is what marks healers. We touch, study, and sometimes cure what others consider evil, terrifying. Mayhap, because they believe God inflicts diseases and such, they think that we go against His will when we try to cure such things. Odd, though, that they dinnae turn against physicians, isnae it? But mayhap that is because physicians, or leeches if ye prefer, are men.”

David blinked, opened his mouth to reply, then clamped it shut. He needed to regain his calm and put some order into his thoughts. Her words stunned him with their truth. His mother had done little more than try to help people, to heal their ills and soothe their pains. Some people had come from far away to seek her aid, her fame as a healer having become quite widespread before she was killed. David had always assumed, though, that the danger had come from her talk of such things as the power of the water, the magic of the stones, and the occasional little charm, but he realized that he had never fully believed that. His mother had understood, though scorned, people’s fears, and, on most occasions, had tried to be circumspect about her beliefs. He shook his head. He did not want to think that simply helping people had cost her her life.

“Those men dinnae speak of magic waters or babble blasphemous words over rocks,” he snapped.

“Ye shouldnae have seen that,” she muttered.

“Weel, I did.”

“Only because ye crept up on me like some thief.”

“One of the maids saw ye.”

“Nay, all she saw was me drawing water from the well and trying to clear away this mess. I was most careful, for my aunt taught me about the fears so many people hold.” She frowned at the well. “Your mother told people of the well’s powers?”

“She told some. Aye. She was verra proud of the power she mistakenly believed it held.”

Tatha decided she would gain little by trying to argue the truth of his mother’s beliefs. “ ’Tis odd then that the ones who killed her didnae attempt to destroy this well, too. When people cry such as we witches or worse, then try to kill us, they also try to destroy all they believe we gained our power from.”

“She wasnae killed here,” he said, pained by the memories yet intrigued by what she said. “She had been called to a village a half day’s ride from here, on Sir Ranald MacLean’s lands.” He noted the way her beautiful eyes widened and she paled, but did not remark upon it. “By the time we heard of the trouble it was too late to save her.”

“Sir Ranald had her killed?”

“I did wonder if he was part of it, but there was no proof of that. ’Twas his men, however, who stirred the people into a fury, and his men who beat her. They will beat no more women,” he added in a cold, flat voice.

“Why was she called to that particular village?”

“What can that matter?”

“It may matter a great deal to me. Sir Ranald kens what I am, yet paid a goodly sum to my father to take me as his wife. Aye, to take me to a place where one healing woman has already been murdered.”

David frowned, suddenly wondering if there was more behind his mother’s death than he had suspected. He had not been able to gain any proof that Sir Ranald had been involved in the murder in any way, and the man had allowed David to kill the men directly involved, had simply ignored the reckoning taken. Yet, despite the obvious temptation of Tatha’s youth and beauty to a man like Sir Ranald, it did seem strange that he would seek a wife he knew his clansmen would hate and fear. Despite the man’s age and unappealing nature, David was sure Sir Ranald could have looked elsewhere for a young wife if that was all he sought, one with a dowry.

“I will see what I can find out,” he finally said. “It may not be easy. It has been five years and I had thought that the matter was settled. I buried my mother, a reckoning was taken, and no feud ensued. I believed that was the end of it all. Howbeit, ye have stirred my curiosity anew, and ye are right to think it could be of importance to ye.”

Tatha studied Sir David even as she reconsidered all she knew about Sir Ranald. “Was your mother bonnie?”

“Aye,” David replied cautiously. “I think so. She was a small woman, much akin to ye in size, only . . . weel, fuller of figure. Her coloring was akin to mine save that she had green eyes. She was also only nine and thirty when she died, yet looked verra much younger.”

“I see.” Tatha began to think Lady Ruthven’s healing gift and belief in the old ways had had very little to do with her death. “Did ye seek me out for any particular reason?” she asked, deciding there was nothing to be gained in continuing to talk about Sir David’s mother, not until she had a few more facts.

Her abrupt change of subject confused David for a moment; then he recalled what he had seen as he had approached the well. “I had heard that ye were here and, after remembering your interest in this well last evening, decided I would come to see what game ye were playing.”

“ ’Tis no game.” She rubbed her hand along the stone, eager to return to the work of cleaning it. “I believe this is why I was drawn to this place.”

“The well called ye, did it?”

She ignored his sarcasm. “Aye, it did.”

David cursed and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Ye willnae practice this foolishness.”

“Are ye intending to forbid it?”

He opened his mouth to do just that, but the words would not come. This young woman believed in all the things his mother and grandmother had believed in. Somehow it seemed disloyal to their memory to keep her from practicing her healing. He cursed.

“Nay.” He glared at the knotted cord that was actually very well concealed in the branches of the tree and then at her. “Ye will nay flaunt it, though. I willnae have all that trouble stirred up again.”

“I will be verra careful. I have always been,” she assured him quietly, understanding the anger in his voice. “If I or my beliefs bring trouble to your gates, I will leave.”

When David realized he was about to vehemently argue that plan, he cursed again, and strode away. She had been at Cnocanduin only one night, yet she had him so beset by conflicting emotions he could not think straight. If the well had drawn Tatha Preston to his keep, it was certainly not working in his favor, he thought crossly.

Tatha sighed as she watched him leave. It saddened her that her beliefs should anger him and push him away. She decided it might be for the best not to study too closely why that should be. There was far too much else she had to worry about.

As she returned to the work of restoring the well to its former beauty, she found herself puzzling over the chilling coincidence that the same man who tried to buy her for his wife was connected to Sir David’s mother’s brutal murder. Suddenly she knew she was at Cnocanduin to do more than restore the well, that perhaps fate or even the restless spirit of Lady Ruthven had dragged her here. The more she considered the matter, the more she was certain she had been led to Cnocanduin for several purposes. Sir David needed to believe again, needed to yet again appreciate the heritage of the women in his family. The beauty and the power of the well needed to be renewed. And, most important, the truth behind Lady Ruthven’s death had to be revealed. If she was right, it was a heavy burden fate had thrust upon her. Tatha prayed Sir Ranald and her father would leave her be until she could accomplish it all.

Chapter 4

“Where is she?”

Leith groaned and would have banged his head on the heavy oak table if his trencher of food was not in the way. “Ye have fretted o’er where the lass is nearly every morning of the mere week she has been here.”

“I dinnae trust her,” David muttered and savagely ate a chunk of bread.

That was not really the truth, and he accepted Leith’s mildly disgusted look as well earned. He found that he did trust Tatha, trusted her in ways he had not trusted a woman for a very long time. Since he had known her only a week, he had to wonder why. What he was not sure of was whether she truly had the skill and the understanding to keep her beliefs hidden, to comprehend and guard against the danger such beliefs could plunge her into. David worried about her, a lot, and he did not want to.

“Weel, I think she is one of the best to yet arrive at our gates,” Leith said.

“Oh, aye? She doesnae act much like a guest. She has fair usurped all running of the keep.”

“She but tries to help. The lass is a skilled healer.” Leith flushed and glanced warily at David. “I think she may be as good as, or better than, your mother ever was.”

“High praise. What prompts it?”

“Ye ken that I have e’er suffered from rashes and the itch of them.”

“Aye. Mother gave ye many a salve for them.”

“And they truly helped ease my torment, but naught she did cured it.”

“And this lass has cured ye?” David frowned and studied his cousin, his eyes widening suddenly when he noticed that Leith’s neck was no longer covered with red blotches.

“Aye, and ’twas nay with any magic or strange potions. I dinnae have some skin ailment. ’Tis the wool.”

“The wool? What does wool have to do with your skin?”

“Weel, my skin cannae abide the touch of it. Aye, I thought it all madness too,” he said when David stared at him in disbelief. “How can ye nay wear wool? Weel, she told me to just try nay letting it touch my skin for just a wee while and gave me a willow-herb ointment to soothe my rashes. It couldnae hurt, I thought. So I still wore my plaid but I put a linen shirt on, and . . .” He blushed, looked around to make sure no one was watching them, and lifted the skirt of his plaid to reveal that he also wore linen leggings. “It took only a day or two for me to see the change. Beneath all of this wrapping there isnae one red spot. For the first time in my life I am nay itching myself. I have asked the lasses if they can weave me a plaid that isnae of wool, for e’en touching it causes me a few troubles still. Aye, and ’twill cost me dear to have warm clothes made that arenae of wool, but e’en after only a few days of ease, I feel the cost will be worth it. If only for the ease in my nether regions.”

“Weel. Who would have thought it.”

“Seems the lass kens a lot about what can trouble your skin. Ye wouldnae believe how many questions she asked of me, and some put us both to the blush. I have noticed that she doesnae wear wool, either. And many of your people have already sought her out for help. Donald’s wife Sorcha was one of the first, for she is with child again.”

“I pray to God that she can carry this one to term.” David scowled. “Tatha hasnae promised that, has she?”

“Nay. The lass says such things are in God’s hands. But she also said that women must ken a few things to help God’s work be accomplished. She told Sorcha to nay lift anything heavy, to rest with her feet raised several times a day, to avoid strong smells that can oftimes trouble one’s belly, for the retching can be harmful. Then she gave her a verra long list of foods she cannae eat.”

“Such as what?”

“Weel, all Donald and Sorcha could recall was thyme, parsley, and juniper berries, but there were many others. Sorcha says she will simply eat verra plain food, nay a spice or an herb. And the lass gave her a sage brew to drink, sparingly. If the bairn still rests in her belly come harvest time, Donald may be asking ye to let his wife stay out of the fields.”

“I shall tell him today that he need not fret on it. If ’twill give them a bairn, Sorcha can crawl abed now and stay there until the birth. It appears the lass has cured you and, if her advice gives Donald and Sorcha a live bairn, we may ne’er see the lass leave.” He sighed. “And I will confess that e’en in the short week she has been here, the keep is cleaner, e’en to the smell of it.”

“We didnae have a great problem with vermin such as fleas, but what few were here are now gone.” Leith grinned. “Donald complains that the stables smell like a fine lady’s bath, but I notice he doesnae remove any of the herbs she has hung up in the place.” His smile widened and held a hint of lechery. “She may have e’en helped old Robert with his back trouble. Ye ken it has been a month or longer since he hurt it and it hadnae eased at all. He spoke to the lass and she told him all of the usual things, nay any heavy lifting, rest, and gave him a salve to ease the ache. Then she discovered that he has himself a bonnie new wife and tried to tell him to leave her be until his back is better.”

BOOK: Highland Hero
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