He leaned up on his elbow and touched Siena’s forehead. Aye, she had a fever. However, there wasn’t much he could do until they reached his holding where The Green Woman could attend to her.
Glancing around at the frost-covered campsite, he saw the first signs of his men waking up to start their day. The fire was no more than embers and ashes.
Carefully, he slid Siena’s hand off his chest, then he pushed himself into a sitting position. He reached over and gently shook her. “Wake up, lass. ’Tis morning. We’ll be leaving soon.”
Siena groaned then slowly opened bloodshot eyes. Her face appeared as pale as the frost and she looked completely drained. However, it would be time to travel as soon as they broke up the campsite, so she must get up and attend to what was necessary before they left. She’d not likely be able to sit a horse for long today without falling off.
Roderick must have awakened Agatha because she sat up and yawned. She stretched her arms overhead, and then she turned toward them, frowning as she recognized how ill her mistress was. “How are you feeling, milady?”
“M--my head hurts. I’m sure it is caused by the fever,” Siena said as she glanced toward Agatha. “By chance, did you bring my herbs?”
“There wasn’t time for me to fetch anything but our clothes.” Agatha shoved herself to her feet, and then ran her hands down her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles. “Let me help you to the stream so you may wash before we leave. The cold water will help you feel better.”
“At the moment, I doubt anything will make me feel better,” Siena grumbled.
Roderick took Siena’s good arm and helped her to her feet. “We have a long ride ahead of us today,” he said impatiently. “We should reach my holdin’ by nightfall, where my healer can tend to you. Ye are weak, lass, so ye’d best ride with me today.”
“Aye.” She held her arm up to Roderick, then swayed backward, so he had to steady her. “Do you see any red streaks?”
He took her arm gingerly, then partially unwrapped the bandage.He felt like a servant, he thought, and questioned the fact that he should be doing such a menial task. Wasn’t he called the Devil’s Laird? The man who made others tremble by the mere mention of his name. If only they could see him now. For here he stood tending a woman. “Nay,” he said as he rewrapped her arm, wondering why he couldn’t dismiss her so easily. “Remember, yer body went through a great deal yesterday, and that was before the hanging,” Roderick said, shaking his head. “Most would have died.”
“I’m made of strong stuff.” She half-smiled. “Aye. It was fortunate for me that you showed up when you did.”
Roderick made sure Agatha had a good grip on Siena before he turned and left them. There was much to get ready before they rode out.
Siena felt as if she were in a dream world as she stumbled through the trees to the small stream supported by Agatha. Siena also had an odd, sick, empty feeling. Since yesterday her world had come crashing down around her – not that her world had been good before, but she’d had things that were familiar to her. Now she had nothing, only Agatha. She cherished her, but their future was uncertain. They had no home, nothing to hold on to.
Now she was going to an unfamiliar place. What would she find there? Would people mistreat her there as they had in her own home? She didn’t have the slightest idea, but she did know she needed some help getting her fever down before she could think straight again. She tore a piece of material off the bottom of her underskirt and bathed herself with cold water. It felt good and reviving, but she was still lightheaded, and her eyes burned as though they had sand in them. She wished she could remove her head completely, so it would quit hurting so bad.
“Do you think anyone would notice if I sat down in the middle of the stream?”
“’It is much too cold outside, milady. Why would you do such? And where are your shoes?” Agatha asked as she splashed water on her own face. She shivered from the icy drench. “You must get out of the water least you catch your death.”
“I’m so hot,” Siena complained. “I want to be cool.”
“’Tis the fever talking.” Agatha took the cloth from Siena and dipped it in the cold water, then she squeezed the water out. “Come milady, you can hold the cool cloth to your head.” Agatha gripped Siena firmly by the elbow and slipped the shoes back on her feet. “Let’s go to our new home. I’m anxious to see it, and to get warm. I’m not sure I can feel my toes at the moment.”
Siena let Agatha steady her as they made their way back to camp. Siena followed Agatha like a small, lost puppy. Then strong arms lifted her off the ground. The next thing she knew she’d been settled in front of Roderick on his giant warhorse. Truth be told, she was glad, so she could rest her head on his chest, but she felt she should protest … just a little. “I should ride my own horse. I don’t want to be a bother,” she mumbled.
“The black is sturdier than yer palfrey,” Roderick explained. “Besides, I’m no sure ye could stay on yer horse for hours without falling off and adding more injuries to what ye already have.”
Siena was too tired to protest. Instead, she leaned back and welcomed the strength of his arms supporting her, and strangely enough, she felt safe with someone she’d once thought of as the enemy. The slow steady gait of the horse soon lulled her into a restful sleep.
Roderick really wasn’t sure why he didn’t let one of the other men carry Siena. They were capable, but for some strange reason he didn’t want them touching her. He glanced down at her. She reminded him of a stray animal that someone had thrown out because they didn’t want them.
By the end of the day, they would be home where she could receive proper care. In the meantime, she'd better not die on him. He forbade it.
Roderick held his left hand up for the procession to stop. “We’ll have to go single file through the pass,” he said to Duncan.
Roderick had no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth when Siena jerked to a sitting position, and he had to hold on to her, so she wouldn’t fall. The lass was dangerous when she first awoke from sleep.
“You must not go!” she warned him, clutching his plaid.
“Go where, lass?”
“Through the Blue Pass. It is dangerous. They wait to attack you.”
“Yer fever has made ye daft,” Roderick told her. However, something gave him pause as he looked into her bloodshot eyes. How did she know they were getting ready to go through a pass when she’d been fast asleep?
