"I should be glad of it and, in part, I am but I wish it could have been otherwise."
"It had to be, Islaen. He ne'er would have let us be. His madness demanded that he keep on until one of us was dead."
She nodded but carefully, in deference to her aching head. He was right. MacLennon had left them with no other choice. The only way to stop his madness was to kill him. She just wished she had not been the one to strike the killing blow. Despite all the man had done and had planned to do, something inside of her drew back in horror over the violence she had committed.
"Come, Islaen, ye maun drink this potion,” Meg urged as she stood by the bed and held out a goblet.
Islaen made a childish grimace and turned away, curling up at Iain's side. “Nay, I willnae drink it."
Although he sympathized with her feelings, having had to put down a few potions in his time, Iain said a little sternly, “Be this any way for a grown woman and mither to act?"
"Aye,” Islaen muttered, “and ye would act the same had ye drunk any of Meg's vile potions."
"I havenae killed ye yet, lass,” Meg said crossly.
"It has been a near thing a time or twa."
"Islaen,” Iain said with quiet firmness though he felt an urge to laugh.
"Oh, verra weel.” She tried to sit up but started to feel dizzy. “Wheesht, I am weak."
Supporting her, Iain nodded. “Aye, so am I still but I can feel my strength returning e'en now. Ye were unconscious longer than I. T'will be a while ere ye can run about, lass. What is the potion for, Meg?"
"Murder,” Islaen grumbled.
Meg ignored her. “To ease her pain. I ken weel that her head hurts.” Meg nodded in approval when Islaen downed it and ignored the girl's grimaces. “I made it weak for ye."
"Will it make me sleep?” Islaen asked making no protest when Iain settled her comfortably in his arms.
"I dinnae need to give ye aught for that. Ye will sleep a muckle lot for a day or so, child."
"But I only just awoke."
"She is right, Islaen. I did the same.” Iain sighed and shook his head. “I couldnae stay awake long at all e'en when I tried."
"Weel, now that ye have seen how she fares, sir,” Meg said to Iain, “ye can go back to your own bed."
Resisting the urge to hold tighter to him, Islaen murmured, “Aye, ye neednae stay here, Iain, if ye dinnae wish to."
"I wish to. I am staying here.” He settled himself more comfortably in the bed as if to add strength to his firm pronouncement.
"But I maun tend to the lass and all."
"Meg, Islaen and I are wed. I dinnae think I will see aught I havenae seen before."
"So gently put, my friend,” Alexander murmured as Meg gasped and Islaen groaned softly in embarrassment.
For only a moment was Islaen concerned about a need for some privacy. She needed Iain more. Her fear that he had been killed still left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"I think t'would be best an Islaen got some rest now,” Iain said softly as he felt his wife go lax in his hold. “An her kin travel here as swiftly as they did after the bairns came they will be here on the morrow. She will need rest to see them."
Meg frowned but nodded in agreement. “Aye and they will insist upon seeing the lass too. I will sit for now, m'lady,” she said to Storm. “'Tis your turn to rest. Aye, and Master Iain's right. The MacRoths will come soon and there will be a muckle lot of work."
Islaen woke with a start partly because Iain had and partly because of a loud crash. Peering over the shoulder of a softly cursing Iain, she smiled. The still shuddering door explained the crash.
"Greetings, Fither. Have ye nay learned to knock yet?"
"Ye wouldnae have heard me,” Alaistair growled as he strode to the bed and studied his daughter, scowling at the bruises on her face. “Put up a good fight, did ye, lass?"
