“Idle gossip spread by ignorant rustics. I pay it no heed.”
He glanced around cautiously, then leaned in closer. She resisted the urge to step back. An uncomfortable fluttering had begun in her belly. He was so very large, and she was very much alone. Though he’d shown her nothing but kindness, his proximity unnerved her. But if he had any inappropriate intentions, it did not behoove her to show fear. She knew from experience that to men with mischief in mind, fear was oft an aphrodisiac, whereas courage nearly always discouraged them.
“The villagers have tried to capture him several times. He doesn’t dare leave the castle.”
Rose’s mouth opened on an exhalation as she gazed up at her new friend. “But I mean him no harm. I—I know about that, about persecution. Not myself,” she hastened to add when he drew back from her warily. “I—well, someone I knew.”
He shook his head firmly. “Your sympathy is wasted, lass. Go home.”
She gazed helplessly at him, but he just backed away. “Ask the blacksmith. He knows. He’ll tell you true. But do not mention that anyone from the castle sent you. They hate us all.”
She frowned at the cozy cottage, beckoning to her as she shivered in the rain. When she turned back, Dumhnull was gone.
She was welcomed by the blacksmith and his wife. The blacksmith was an enormous redhead named Tadhg, and he was beside himself with excitement when he learned Rose was a healer.
“Ack—my tooth, it aches and throbs. I cannot sleep, Icannot think of aught anymore but the tooth. It’s my whole life.” He sat, his brawny frame slumped in his chair, his thick-fingered hand cupping his copper-bearded cheek, looking thoroughly pathetic.
His short, stout wife placed a bowl of a thin broth and a chunk of dark bread before Rose, then stopped behind her husband, putting her hands on his shoulder. Her dark hair was caught back in a severe bun and her round face was dour, but she gazed at her husband with affection, kneading his shoulders.
“He moans so terribly at night, I cannot sleep at all, either. Is there aught you can do for him?”
“Do you not have a barber?” Rose asked, gratefully sipping the stew. The goodwife had loaned her a homespun shift that was too large but clean and warm. She sat huddled on the bench under a thick wool plaid while her clothes dried before the fire.
Tadhg shook his head. “Plague got him.”
He gazed at Rose with such pained hope, his big hand rubbing his copper-bearded cheek.
She smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure there’s something I can do. But tell me, why do you not go to your chief? I’ve heard he is a great healer.”
Tadhg’s face darkened. His wife turned away abruptly, returning to the hearth.
“He is not a healer. He is a sorcerer. He doesn’t heal people, he gives them to the devil. I’d not let him touch me if he begged.”
His wife turned from the cauldron she stirred, her cheeks ruddy with affronted passion and her eyes dark slits in her doughy face. “Not that my lord would beg.Not him. He’d let us all die afore he’d soil his hands with any real healing, mind you.”
Taken aback by their fervor, Rose said, “But the stories I’ve heard—”
“Och, there’s stories all right,” the older woman said.
Rose’s shoulders slumped. “They’re not true then.”
“Oh, it’s all true.” Tadhg nodded sagely. “I’ve seen him do it myself.”
He leaned back in his chair, the pain in his face easing at the prospect of a story. “It was about a year ago. Allister, my apprentice, was out cutting wood. His wee wife came by to bring him some dinner. He didn’t know she was there, so he was startled. The ax slipped, and he cut her in the leg. He brought her here. We bound it up, but it festered and she fell into a fever. We knew the end was near. Allister had sent word to Lord Strathwick, but our chief never came. Allister was sore grieving there at the end, and went up to the castle himself, carrying on about how if the chief didn’t save his Betty he’d have the MacKay’s heart.”
Rose leaned across her stew, listening with breathless interest. “Did that work?”
“Aye, it did. He came down, though you could tell just by looking at him he’d rather be any place else. He had a look at Betty’s leg, then told her not to fear.” Tadhg extended his thick, rough hands in front of him, his expression reverent. “He lay his hands on her leg. It took but a minute. When he lifted his hands, Betty’s leg was as smooth as if the accident never happened. She was awake, too, blinking at us like an owl, asking what happened.”
Rose sat back on the bench. “So that’s it? He touchedher leg and the wound disappeared? Did he say anything afterward?”
Tadhg dropped his hands to his knees. “Nay, he never stays after a healing. His brother comes with him, and they leave immediately. Never around long enough for a thank-ee sir.”
Rose frowned, confused. “Why do you feel so ill about him? It sounds as if he could heal your tooth better than I could. I have no such magic.”
Tadhg’s bearded face distorted into a sneer of hatred. “Nay, I’ll not let him mark me for the devil.”
“What about Betty? He healed her. That is a miracle and you saw it.”
