Arran waited until he was sealed in his room once more before he slammed his fist into the wooden door, welcoming the pain as it split his knuckles. His brother was as good as dead if he could not find his way out of this room.
“Ye cannae keep injuring yerself and expecting me tae fix ye.”
Arran rested his forehead on the cool wood. The healer. “Why have ye not left yet?” He was not interested in her chastised words. Besides, he had no need to be healed. McDougal had handed down his death day, and it was fast approaching.
“I cannae leave until the laird deems it so,” she replied evenly.
Arran turned, finding her seated in the chair in the corner. The lass was still a mystery to him, but he knew he owed his life to her.
Well, the few days he had left, that is.
“Mah hand is mah only injury this time.”
She gave him a sharp nod, her keen eyes on his. It was difficult to discern her age, though Arran couldn’t help but wonder if the tales about healers were true and that they could retain their youthfulness.
McDougal’s certainly looked younger than he would have imagined her to be, especially her eyes.
“Wot did the laird want with ye?” she asked after a moment.
Arran wiped the blood off his knuckles with the hem of his tunic. “I am tae die in two days, lass.”
Her gasp filled the room. “B-but that makes no sense! Why would he heal ye only tae kill ye?”
Walking over to the narrow bed, Arran sat upon it, his hands resting on his knees. “He is attempting tae draw out mah brother and kill him as well as the rest of mah family. Two days is all that mah brother needs tae reach this keep.” Now it made sense why the laird was waiting. Either Arran would watch Malcolm perish, or his brother would arrive in time to see Arran die.
Either way, their fates were sealed.
“I can help ye.”
Arran turned his gaze toward the healer sharply. “Wot?”
She looked down at her lap. “I can help ye escape.”
Surprised, Arran tamped down the first flicker of hope inside his chest. “How can ye do that, lass?”
She gave a short laugh. “Well, I havenae thought it out yet, but I’m yer best chance of avoiding the death sentence that the laird has given ye.”
Did he dare trust in her? She was a member of this clan. McDougal was her laird, and to go against him, not to mention help his prized prisoner escape, would mean certain death for her.
“Why?”
The healer shrugged. “I dinnae think it’s right what he is doing tae ye and yer family.”
Arran swallowed as he mulled over her sudden proposal. She was his best chance of escaping, that was the truth, but to put her in jeopardy with her clan did not feel right.
“I cannae put ye in that sort of danger,” he finally said.
“I wilnae be in danger,” she answered, lifting her chin. “I will get ye out of here and then disappear mahself. ’Tis time for me tae move on from this clan. This has not been mah home for some time.”
Arran placed his fist over his heart. “Ye are welcome in mah keep for as long as ye like, lass.” He would protect her if need be. She had brought him back from the dead and now she was offering to betray her own clan to get him home. It was the least he could do.
She waved a hand at him. “I will be fine, Scot. Save yer brother. That will be thanks enough for me.”
Arran leaned back against the stone wall that the bed was pushed up to. “When do ye think tae make this happen?”
She pursed her lips. “Tonight. If ye dinnae go tonight, then ye wilnae have much time tae stop yer brother. I can slip something tae the guards and lead ye out of the village. Then we will go separate ways.”
“Alright, lass,” Arran said. It wasn’t a sound plan, but it was the best one he had, considering his plight. If she were willing to help, he wasn’t going to turn her offer down, but he would protect her the best he could until they were safe.
