“A knife wound such as this should not bring the laird this much pain and suffering,” the healer said. “It is surprising indeed.” The man bent and examined the wound more closely. With the back of his hand, he felt Alistair’s temperature. He then gently pried Alistair’s eyelid open. He shook his head.
“This is no ordinary wound,” he pronounced. “An ordinary wound would not have this effect. I suspect the laird has been poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Keith, Catrina and Jane exclaimed at once.
“Yes,” the healer responded. “But with what, I cannot tell.”
A couple of Alistair’s men had gathered. Jane recognized some of them from her capture. There was a look of worry on their faces. Some meant to lift Alistair, but the healer shook his head.
“Could be shinegrass,” one of the soldiers said. “Killed me ma and me braither.”
The healer shook his head. “I have seen people poisoned with shinegrass. Their bodies break into blisters and their tongues become heavy. This is nae shinegrass.”
“Owl’s eye, then,” another warrior said. “Very common in the country. Makes ye burn up like this.”
“This is not owl’s eye either,” the healer said. “If it were, the laird would nae be like this. A simple headache in mild cases and a heavy one in dire cases. He would nae have a fever.”
Jane had gazed at the wound just before the healer put down Alistair’s kilt.
“It’s wolfsbane,” Jane said suddenly, and all eyes turned to her. She had seen a wound like this before. When she was little, her uncle had shown her a soldier who had been stabbed with a blade dipped in wolfsbane. It had been a small nick on his arm, and yet his body had been thrown into a fever. His lips had become bloodless, and he had dangled at the brink of death for the longest time. The soldier had looked just like Alistair looked now. Her uncle had taught her how to treat a wound such as this.
“I’ve seen it before, and I know how it can be treated. We need to move him. Quickly, please. Time is running out.” She turned to Keith, who reacted like she had not heard him. “Take Alistair to his bedroom.” She turned to the healer. “What herbs do you have for the treatment of poisons?” she asked.
The man let out a retinue of plants. Jane nodded. “You have all the ingredients for an antidote, save one. It’s called maiden’s hope. It grows near lakes. I hope it does not discriminate and grows next to Scottish lakes as well. For all our sakes.”
“I dinnae ken an herb by that name,” the healer said.
“I must accompany you, then,” Jane said. “It may be known by another name here.” She turned to his men. “You are wasting time that we do not have. He needs to be moved to his chambers.” Alistair was still on the ground, unmoved by Keith and his other warriors. The healer was looking at her skeptically.
Of course. Too quickly, she’d forgotten the circumstances surrounding where she was.
“He will be dead by tomorrow!” she screamed. “If we do not get to work right now, today may be his last day on earth!”
One warrior stepped forward. He had small, hard eyes and a unibrow. “We love our laird, but we will not take instructions from a-”
“Dae as she says!” Alistair commanded. All eyes turned to him. He’d said it with such effort, Jane was worried that he had less hours than what she had earlier calculated. Swiftly, Keith and the other warriors carried him away. At least two looked at her as though it were she who had stabbed their leader. Never mind that. She had more pressing issues to think about. She turned to the healer. “Let us go.”
The man nodded and began to walk.
“I will be back soon,” Jane said to Catrina.
Catrina nodded, pulled at both sides on the robe that she had given Jane and clasped them more tightly together. Jane nodded in gratitude and began to follow after the healer. They’d walked some distance in silence before they heard the sound of hooves behind them. It was Tasgall. “Ma said tae follow you, Jane Marsh,” he said. “Tae keep ye safe.” He reached in his kilt and brought out a small sword. He brandished it with one hand and held on to the reins with the other.
Jane found herself smiling. “We are just headed fer a lake, Tasgall,” she said.
“Aye, but danger lurks everywhere!” He said it with childlike glee, as though he anticipated danger and perhaps even hoped for it so that he could defeat it and shine.
And yet that filled Jane with a flash of fear. The child was right, for was it not Alistair, healthy, virile Alistair, who lay dying now? “You are right, Tasgall,” she said.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Afew hours later, Jane entered Alistair’s room bearing a mug and a small jar. Douglas, Keith and another warrior were seated next to Alistair’s bed, deep in conversation. As soon as Jane walked in, the conversation ceased and four pairs were fixed on her, three of them hostile. Holding her head high, she walked to the foot of the bed and said, “I have brought the antidote to the wolfsbane,” she said. “Alistair, you must take this now.”
Douglas regarded her with blatant distrust. “Why did Campbell nae bring it himself?”
Jane figured that Campbell must be the healer. On their trip to the lake, she and he had said almost nothing to each other, they were running against time, so Jane did not know his name.
“Because I offered to bring it,” Jane answered.
