Still, Helen held out hope. But a short while later the vomiting and flux started again. The king was more ill than ever. When at last the terrible barrage ended, his breath was so shallow as to barely come at all.
She looked at Magnus and shook her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said. It hadn’t worked.
He walked around the bed and drew her into his arms. She collapsed against him, letting the warmth and solidness of his embrace wrap around her. “You tried,” he said softly. “You did everything you could.” She thought she felt his mouth on the top of her head, but she was so exhausted she’d probably imagined it.
He sat in the chair she’d just vacated and drew her down on his lap. She put her head on his shoulder the way she used to do when they were young. And just like then, his solid strength filled her with a sense of contentment and warmth. A sense of belonging. It was the last thing she remembered until she woke to gentle shaking.
She opened her eyes to bright sunlight and winced, immediately shutting them again. “Helen,” he said. “Look.”
Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she became aware of Magnus before her. She was no longer in his lap, but was curled up in the same wooden chair with a plaid draped over her.
Suddenly, she realized what he was looking at. Bruce was still unconscious, but his face was no longer so pallid and his breathing was stronger. He looked…better.
“What happened?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I kept giving him the whisky and the lemon.” A look of shame crossed his face. “I must have dozed off a few hours ago. I woke and found him like this.”
Had the remedy for the sailors’ illness worked?
Her first reaction was relief.Thank God, it wasn’t poison.
She hoped. But a niggle of doubt lingered. Could it have been the foxglove? Some thought the foxglove a remedy for poison. It was impossible to know for certain.
She quickly began an examination, placing her hand on the king’s head, feeling that it wasn’t so clammy, then on his stomach, relieved to not feel the twisting underneath, and on his heart, which beat remarkably steadily.
“Well?” Magnus asked expectantly.
She shook her head. “I don’t know, but I think…I think…”
“He’s getting better?”
She drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Aye.”
He bowed his head, murmuring, “Praise God.” He looked back up. “You did it.”
Helen felt a swell of pride but knew he wasn’t correct. “Nay,wedid it.”
And just for a moment when she looked into his eyes, time slipped away. She saw the lad she’d fallen in love with and felt the force of the connection between them beat as strongly as ever.
Under the cover of darkness, thebirlinnapproached the shore. He waited anxiously—eagerly—as John MacDougall, the exiled Lord of Lorn, made his way up the rocky beach, his feet once more treading solidly on Scottish soil. It was a moment to celebrate.
Lorn had been forced to take refuge in Ireland after the MacDougall loss at the battle of Brander last summer, but the once powerful chieftain hadn’t conceded defeat. He’d been planning his retribution against the false king every day since.
Now, the time was at hand. Robert Bruce may have made a near miraculous return from ignominy and defeat, but his run of good fortune was about to come to a deadly end. Ironically, by a sword of his own making.
The two men—allies in the quest to see Bruce destroyed—clasped arms in greeting.
“The team is ready?” Lorn asked.
“Aye, my lord. Ten of the greatest warriors from Ireland, England, and those loyal to our cause from Scotland are waiting to attack on your command.”
Lorn smiled. “The perfect killing team. I would thank Bruce for the idea but do not believe I shall have the chance. The next time I see him, the bastard will be dead. I trust you will not disappoint me?”
Lorn had recognized his skills and picked him to lead his killing team. He would not let him down. “Bruce might have his phantoms, but I have my reapers. He will not escape my scythe, my lord.”
Lorn laughed. “Fitting, indeed. What is your plan?”
“We shall wait to attack until he takes to the mountains, when he is far from help.”
