"Jacob may have a point," Isla said. "Per'aps someone inside knows who may have sent this letter."
She produced the parchment from the rucksack behind her. It had dried and was now stiff, though still delicate. Her eyes ran over the words again, taking in the scrawled handwriting. It looked as though whoever had sent it had done so in a hurry.
"We can go in, m'Laird," Gamelin said. "We won' be but a moment. And no drinks, on me honor. We won' keep ye waitin'."
Isla handed the letter over to the man, who tied his horse to the old wooden fence outside of the tavern. Jacob and Aymer followed suit and then pushed the wooden tavern doors open. Isla caught the strong scent of alcohol on the air along with the savory scent of venison stew drifting on the breeze.
Iain dropped down from his horse and offered his hand out to Isla, who took it gratefully. His hand was warm on her own, radiating the heat that always seemed to flow from him. He was fiery and passionate, burning like the sun, and Isla craved that heat now more than ever. After their kiss in the woods, she had found herself wishing for another moment alone with him.
"What shall we do while yer men are gone?" she asked, glancing up at him through her lashes.
He smiled down at her, one side of his mouth quirking up first and then widening at her own expression. He looked hungry for her, and she didn't miss when his eyes drifted down her body and back up to her eyes. She wished then for somewhere private that she could pull him to where she could strip him of that coat and cotton shirt.
"I dinnae think we'll have enough time for that," he crooned, the smile still present on his face. "Per'aps later, though... For now, why don' we take a walk along tha' wee market?"
He gestured behind her, and she turned to see small wooden stalls set up in little rows. She gasped, charmed by it, and then turned back to him, her face glowing with joy.
"Can we?" she asked, excitement finding its way into her voice.
Her heart fluttered as he held his hand out to her, and they made their way towards the open market.
Villagers were bustling by with fresh trays of bread and large colorful wheels of cheese. There were tables filled with flowers and herbs sold by an ancient, hobbling woman. Isla marveled over the rarity of some of the dried vegetation, calling Iain over.
She held up the long, bright green stem of a flower, each of its four petals a pale yellow. The root was still attached, and the tendrils, gnarled and curling, were nearly as long as her arm.
"Do ye know how potent this is for healing?" she asked. "The name is bloodroot, but dinnae be fooled by the name. It heals the worst o' inner illnesses; I've seen men suffer greatly and be saved with this. It can also be crushed an' combined with moss tae heal the nastiest o' sores. I cannae believe she has so much o' it! It's common elsewhere, towards the lowlands, but no' as much here."
"It does all that?" Iain asked. Isla watched as he frowned in surprise. "An' rare in this area as well. Here, lass, get as much as ye wish o' the stuff. If it's all that useful, we could always use it."
“Good eye, lassie,” said the old woman. “Ye dinnae see that beauty often ‘round these hills; this may be the first an’ last time ye see it bein’ sold at my wee stand.”
“Aye, I’m sure,” Isla said. “How did ye ever find such a plant? I cannae imagine it was easy tae come by.”
The old woman laughed, the sound like the caw of a crow. Her eyes twinkled in the sunlight.
“It certainly was no’ easy,” the woman said. “I went a little farther intae the forest than I normally am willing tae go. Got a little mixed up in me old age, y’see, and couldnae find the village again. I wandered ‘round for awhile ‘til I found a little clearin’; these plants were sproutin’ up everywhere there, smilin’ up at the sun with their wee yellow heads.”
“That must have been amazin’ tae see a glade like tha’,” Isla said. “Ye picked the lot of them?”
“O’ course not,” the ancient woman said. “Aye, I plucked most o’ the ones I could find, but I left quite a bit there in case they had the mind tae keep growin’ there. Though, in a few seasons, I cannae imagine tha’ they’ll survive the cold. So get as much as ye can while ye can, is what I say!”
She broke out in a smile and took the coins he dug out of his pouch. The few coins were enough for the bloodroot, and the old woman smiled at Iain radiantly; she was missing more than her fair share of teeth.
"Thank ye, lovies," she said, her voice cracking. "Bless ye, bless ye."
Isla clutched the herbs to her chest and gazed at Iain, the yellow flowers contrasting against her dark hair. He looked so content and peaceful, his face finally relaxed and his shoulders not so tight and drawn. She thought he looked more handsome now than he ever had, and when he glanced down at her, she thought she might fall into his arms right at that moment.
She would have kissed him then, but she heard Aymer's voice in the distance. The men were waving at them near the horses excitedly, holding the letter aloft.
"Suppose they've discovered somethin' after all," Iain mused, that smile she loved still gracing his face.
"Aye," she said. "I didnae truly think it would work."
He began to chuckle then, and Isla felt a laugh of her own rippling up and out of her. The two of them stood there laughing like fools for a few moments; Isla could not remember the last time she'd felt so utterly giddy.
Even though a throng of villagers whisked by them, Isla felt as though it were just the two of them standing in the center of the dirt path.
"Let's find out what they've heard," Iain said.
