“What are those marks on yer throat, lass? I think my cream could help them also.”
Siena knew her face must have turned beet red because she could feel the heat burning her cheeks. “Well, my brother’s men were trying to have me hanged when Laird Roderick came to my rescue.”
Elen’s white eyebrows shot up. “That’s quite a tale, lass. Why don’t ye start from the beginning and tell me what happened to ye, that is, if ye dinna mind. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Normally, Siena would not talk about herself, but there was something about the healer that made her comfortable. Slowly, Siena told the old woman about her life. Elen patiently listened and nodded here and there, but she never showed any shock. Siena thought she would see judgment in Elen’s eyes, but Siena was wrong.
“Ah, lass,” Elen said shaking her head. “Ye’ve been through a great deal. Yer brother was not liked by my kind. ’Tis glad I am that he is dead.” She held out her hand. “Let me see this mark that ye referred to.”
Siena twisted her left arm and held it up to Elen. “They call it the mark of the devil.”
“That isn’t what it is.” Elen extracted a pipe out of her pocket. She paused a moment to pick up a straw which she held to the candle’s flame on the bed stand. She lit her pipe and puffed a couple of times until she blew out a thick, white smoke ring. “The pipe helps me relax. Tonight, I have mint and lavender in the pipe. ’Tis nice. Remember I’m one hundred and three, so relaxing is a must for my weary bones.” She nodded toward her pipe. “Now where were we … Oh, I remember this mark means you are gifted and that ye’re a seer? ’Tis an arrow and not a pitchfork, as ye’ve been led to believe. I’ve seen it twice before. Huv ye never seen things that are not happening around you?”
“Aye.” Siena nodded. “But I never know when I’m going to see things or how it works. It just happens. I have no control over it.”
“Ye can practice. In time, ye’ll huv much better control.” Elen patted her hand. “Ye might not have had a good life in the past, but I believe that it will be better in the future.”
“Anything would have to be better than what I left.” Then Siena thought of something else. “They also call me the White Witch.”
“Alas, people love to put labels on things they dinna understand. “They call me The Green Woman, hence the leaves in my hair, amber around my neck and I dress in green.” Elen smiled. She clamped the pipe between her teeth, then pulled the covers back over Siena. Reaching into the basket, Elen brought out a small cup full of liquid and handed it to her. “It’s cold and would be better if it were warm, but drink this.”
“What is it?”
“Heather tea. It will help give ye restful sleep.”
Siena took several sips and then handed the cup back. “It doesn’t taste so bad.”
“Aye. ’Tis white heather, and scarce. But ’tis magical,” she lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “It only grows on the grave of a fairy.”
Siena could only stare at Elen, having no idea whether to believe her or not. Things were strange in this land. For all she knew it could be true.
“Why don’t ye slide under the covers and sleep. ’Tis still the best cure for many of your aches and pains.” Elen stood, then she grabbed the back of the chair to steady herself. Damn knees,” she swore. “I’ll look in on ye again in the morning.”
Siena fell asleep before the door closed.
Chapter 6
For three days, Siena slept, waking only to eat and when Agatha would nudge her to make certain Siena was still alive. She would wake up screaming, caught in one of her hellish nightmares, but Agatha was always there to soothe her and remind Siena they were no longer under her brother’s command. Sleep became her friend while her body and mind healed.
However, on the fourth day, Siena awoke feeling much better. Slowly, she sat up, stretched, and then looked around the room. Nothing looked familiar to her, and for a second she panicked until she remembered she was at Black Dawn and not Berwick Castle. She looked toward heaven and thanked God for that small blessing.
As Siena tried to move, she had to admit that she felt a little stiff, and sore. Her stomach grumbled. Now she wanted food instead of dreading the idea of eating. Another sign she was feeling like herself once again.
Siena slipped out of bed, paused for a moment until her head stopped spinning, then she padded across the floor to the dry sink. Glancing around for a pitcher, she spotted it on the hearth; thankfully the servants had built a long-lasting fire and had placed the pitcher of water on the hearth to warm. The fire made the room cozy.
She picked up the white pitcher and returned to the basin where she poured water into the large bowl. The wind whistled outside. The sound made her shiver, and she was glad for the warm water. However, her feet were already getting chilled from the cold stone floor, so she knew it must be really cold outside.
Sienna splashed water on her face to wash away the last vestiges of sleep. She reached for her hairbrush, and began brushing her hair, trying to remove the many tangles that had formed from her tossing and turning in bed. She wondered where Agatha was this morning.
As if she’d conjured her up, Agatha dashed into the room. “Praise the Lord, you’re awake.” She leaned against the wall holding her chest. “When I heard a noise, I thought you had fallen out of bed.”
Siena watched Agatha in the mirror before turning on the stool to look at her. “I’m sorry, I’ve put you through so much worry, but you can stop worrying because I’m feeling much better today.” Siena turned back and placed the hairbrush back on the tabletop. “Did Elen come back to see me?”
“Aye, she did. She declared you were doing well.” Agatha chuckled. “You slept all the way through her prodding, causing us to wonder how long you were going to sleep. However, Elen said it was good for your body to rest, so she didn’t wake you.”
“I don’t remember a thing.”
“Laird Scott will be pleased to hear you’re out of bed.”
