Aftyn nodded but kept her face angled away from him. “Very well.”
Something bothered her. Jamie wanted to stay and convince her to open up to him, but he was out of time. He left the herbal and went down the stairs to the laird’s solar.
* * *
The Keith wasat his worktable, sunlight streaming through a window onto the surface and a missive that held his attention. He picked it up as Jamie entered and tilted it more to the light, a slight frown drawing a shallow line between his brows. Then he glanced up. “Lathan,” he said and gestured to a chair by the hearth. Jamie went there and waited until the Keith joined him, sitting in the opposite chair. So this was to be a friendly meeting. At least to start.
“What can I do for ye?” Jamie took the Keith’s cue, but speaking first put him on a more equal footing than waiting for the laird to take charge and open the conversation. Jamie wanted some control, but needed to appear cooperative for as long as he could.
“’Tis what ye can do for my clan, and for all the people in Keith territory.”
Jamie braced himself without moving a muscle, intent on appearing to listen calmly.
“The abbot speaks highly of yer skill.” He waved the missive in his hand, but did not proffer it, leaving Jamie to wonder what it said. “I am prepared to offer ye much to become the Keith healer.”
“What do ye mean?” The more the Keith talked, the more Jamie would find out without agreeing to anything. Had Aftyn known her father would summon him? Was that the subject of her conversation with Braden and the reason for the disquiet on her face? If so, perhaps he had good reason to fear he was running out of time to leave before his companions lives were threatened. How could the Keith expect him to foreswear his loyalty to his own laird and clan? And why would he trust him if he did? Nay, when he left here, he intended to go back to being a Lathan warrior, not a healer, except by necessity.
“I mean to convey to ye great honor as the clan’s healer, control of the herbal, a larger, more comfortable chamber than the one ye have now, and coin in an amount we can discuss. For that, ye will swear fealty to me and remain here. Ye will train other healers.”
That was impossible, yet he knew what the Keith meant. He expected a different clan to have different potions and methods of healing. And since his had been shown to be more effective than anything Aftyn had been able to do, his would be valuable, indeed. He wanted to ask why the Keith had not offered to see his daughter trained, but decided to wait before challenging the man.
“Many of my cures are kept within my family and I am no’ free to share them.”
“But ye are free to use them, and ye have done so here, if the reports that have reached me are true. Yer methods are more effective than anything we have. Even the abbot canna decide if yer ways are a gift from God or… well, we willna speak of the other.”
Jamie kept his expression placid. Clearly, the Keith had expected a reaction to that statement. Fear, perhaps, at his veiled threat of witchcraft?
But for the moment, the Keith seemed focused on enticements.
“All that is worth much, as I’m sure ye ken. And Keith will become yer family, so ye may be assured of any cooperation ye require to find what ye need to compound yer potions.”
“Yer offer is generous,” Jamie said, and paused. He could not agree or disagree too quickly. And of course, he could not agree at all. “I am promised to the abbey this afternoon. Perhaps when I return, we can discuss terms.” Jamie counted on the Keith's wish to stay on good terms with the abbot.
“I ken ye and Aftyn have become close. I’ll give her to ye, if ye agree.”
Anger starting to heat Jamie’s blood. “What do ye mean, give her to me?”
“Anything ye wish. Make her yer mistress. Marry her. She means little to me as she is. Under ye…” He paused and snorted at his own double entendre, then continued, “her skills will improve. Perhaps in more than one area, aye?” He laughed.
Jamie did not. “I willna use her like that.”
“As ye wish. Then let me offer another enticement. If ye agree, yer companions are free to return to Lathan.”
“And if I dinna agree?” Jamie’s belly suddenly hollowed out. Had Rabbie and Niall been caught? That could explain the Keith’s veiled hints of witchcraft.
“Two of yer companions have already been taken to the dungeon. Two are missing and I’m told they left the keep at first light.”
Jamie went weak with relief that Niall had not been discovered. Then anger rose, and his strength with it, that Bhaltair and Fearchar were in the dungeon.
“I’ve sent riders to bring them back. Until ye swear to me—before the abbot, mind ye—yer men will remain in the dungeon without food.” So the Keith counted on intercepting Jamie’s men, to keep word from reaching Lathan.
Jamie surged to his feet. “Ye canna starve my men.” And he could not swear before the abbot to follow this man. In order to save innocent lives, he’d come to terms with breaking the vow he’d made in anger eighteen months ago. But this? Even made under coercion, this would be a vow he could never break, lest he risk whatever remained of his immortal soul.
“They will have water. They can live much longer without food, so ye will have time to change yer mind.”
Jamie hoped Rabbie and Niall had disregarded his comment that urgency was not required, and ridden like the wind toward the Aerie. “This is how ye entice someone to aid ye? By threatening my men?”
“Yers nay longer. Ye are a Keith now.”
