Any other time, and Magnus might have felt like a chastised child, but he saw the merit in the older man’s instructions. He nodded before Callum went to join his brothers. He struggled to lift his arms over his head to don his leine. He didn’t bother to tuck it into his belt and plaid. He was panting too hard to raise his arm again to place his sword in the sheath across his back. He forced one foot in front of the other until he left the lists. As he entered the bailey, he looked toward Saoirse’s workroom. He loathed looking weak in front of her until he reminded himself only a weak man didn’t ask for help. He trudged his way there, but he heard Brighde’s voice before he reached the door. He almost turned around. He knocked before walking through the door.
“Óg?” Saoirse dropped the bowl she held on to the table and rushed around it, wiping her hands on her kirtle as she walked.
“Hello.” Each sound took a monumental effort to produce.
“What’s wrong?” Saoirse was almost to his side when her mother stepped between them. Her eyes narrowed.
“Ye could at least refresh yerself before coming into such a tight space.” It surprised Brighde to find Magnus so unkempt. It displeased her that he wished to see Saoirse so much that he couldn’t bother to get clean. She wondered if he thought to sneak a tryst with her daughter. “Go back to the keep, Óg. Saoirse and I are working. Ye can see her at the evening meal. I’m certain ye’ll find ways to dance together.”
“Mama—”
Brighde shot her daughter a warning glare, but Saoirse ignored it.
“Magnus, what’s the matter?” She made to move around her mother when she glimpsed Magnus waver, then lean against the door jamb. He shook his head and stepped back from the doorway. She looked back at Brighde. “Da, saved yer life when ye ailed for weeks after arriving here. Nay one turned ye away.”
She hurried past her mother. There was something extremely wrong. Magnus squinted as the bright sunlight dazzled his eyes. He leaned a forearm against the building and retched twice before emptying his stomach. He heard Saoirse and felt her hand on his back, but it was as though he were in a jar. The sound and her touch were distorted. The touch distant, but the sound amplified. He took four steps before the ground rose unexpectedly and crashed into his face. The impact hurt, but it felt good to close his eyes and allow the ground to bear his weight.
“Da!” Saoirse assumed her father was somewhere nearby, since she saw other men returning from the lists. She gathered her skirts and stepped over Magnus before kneeling. He was unconscious, so his weight was too much for her to push. She stepped back over him and tried to pull him onto his back. But it was to no avail. She glanced around. “Da! Grandda! Help me.”
Alex heard his daughter’s cry the first time and ran toward her. He was nearly there when she called for him again. Liam came running from the keep’s steps. Alex searched for his daughter, finding her kneeling beside Magnus, trying to pull him onto his back. Brighde stepped beside their daughter and helped. They’d just rolled him over when Alex and Liam reached their side.
“Ye shouldnae have sent him away, Mama.” Saoirse brushed the hair back from Magnus’s forehead. He had no fever, which worried her more. There was no easy explanation for why sweat drenched him. She shook the veritable giant’s shoulder. Somehow, having him lying before her made her realize how large he was. “Magnus? Magnus?”
“I didna think he was sick.” Brighde felt horrible that she’d assumed the reason for his visit. Now that she took the time to look, she could see all the telltale signs. His pallor was nearly gray, his eyes were glazed when Saoirse peeled his lids open, and his body trembled. “Alex, Da, help us get him inside.”
All of Liam’s daughters-by-marriage called him Da and had since nearly the day they wed. He might be one of the most intimidating warriors on the British Isles, but he was a father-figure to most people younger than him. He and Alex grasped an arm each and heaved. They got Magnus to his feet as his eyes flew open. He jerked free, stumbled, then emptied his belly again. His legs crumpled, and Saoirse barely caught him in time to keep him from landing in his own vomit. Alex caught her when Magnus’s weight forced her backward.
“Mòr! Callum!” Tavish was running toward them as he bellowed for his other brothers. “What happened?”
“We dinna ken. He came to see me, but he left before I could do aught.” Saoirse glowered at her mother. “He fell and passed out before he landed. He roused long enough to empty his belly a second time.”
“I sent him to his chamber because he didna look well. Why’d he leave ye if he sought yer help?” Callum grabbed a leg while Mòr grabbed the other. Liam, Callum, Alex, and Mòr hoisted Óg into the air while Saoirse supported his head. The four men carried the supine warrior with ease. Tavish ran ahead to open the keep’s doors.
“I sent him away,” Brighde confessed. “I thought he wished to sneak a visit with Saoirse and hadn’t bothered to get cleaned up first.”
“Can ye carry him up the three flights? It’s going to be tight.” Saoirse considered how narrow the stairway would be with three abreast. She was unconvinced they could get Magnus to his chamber. She had to let go of his head and walk behind the others.
“We’ll take him to Wiley and Tate’s,” Tavish suggested. They would only have to maneuver Magnus up one flight of stairs.
“Óg?” Siùsan rushed from the kitchens. Someone must have told her that the men carried her brother inside. Tavish took the leg Callum held as the oldest Sinclair brother wrapped his arm around his wife.
“We dinna ken what’s wrong yet, Auntie Siùsan. He was ill outside and collapsed. I’ll see to him. Can ye send a bath up?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Brighde offered. She turned toward the kitchens while everyone else began taking the stairs.
“Saoir…” Magnus croaked.
“I’m here.”
“Saoir…”
“I’m right here, Magnus.” It was awkward, but she reached through Mòr’s arm to grasp Óg’s hand.
“Saoir…”
It was clear he didn’t know what happened around him or who was there. He was calling to her in his delirium. Saoirse squeezed his hand, then let go. It made climbing the stairs too hard, and she knew Magnus wouldn’t know the difference.
“Saoir!”
