“Where are they now?” Iain’s question cut through affirmative noises the men who fought the raiders added to the speaker’s report.
“Dead, the lot of them,” the man told him. “Including a few of the ones we’d rounded up who broke free and joined the fight. The rest should be in our dungeon cells by now.”
“How was Euan hurt?”
“Three of the late arrivals went after him.”
“Three?” Iain shook his head. “Damn, Euan. Trouble still follows ye.”
Ella knew Calum would not be happy when he heard about this. But she was glad Iain had ordered him to stay behind. Could he have fought in a battle like the one they described? And survived? Or would he have wound up like Euan—or worse? She glanced at Muireall, sorry for her friend, but grateful Calum was here to avoid this fight, and to find the lost lads.
“Aye, well,” the man continued, “it took longer than it should have for any of us to get to Euan. We were all fighting for our lives. The three on him kept driving him away from the rest of us. I finished off the man I was fighting and took out one of the men on Euan. Then another, but the third had time to do that before another of ours got him.” He gestured toward the bloody arm the healer calmly worked on while Euan. Muireall kept a comforting hand on his good shoulder.
“How bad is it? Iain directed the question to the healer.
But his glance strayed to Ella, then Muireall, and Ella wondered if he thought Euan would be as difficult a patient as Calum had been. Or if he would heal faster. Ella continued handing the healer whatever she asked for, while sending Muireall encouraging smiles and nods. Muireall stood with the hand not touching Euan clenched in front of her waist, her face alternately pale and flushed. “Ye’d best sit down,” Ella told her,worried that Muireall would faint from shock and the fear of seeing so much blood on her husband.
Iain put one of the healer’s stools behind her and gently encouraged her onto it.
The healer glanced up at Iain. “’Tis bad enough he’ll be with me for a while. Have ye seen enough, laird? Do ye have what ye need?”
“Aye.”
“Then ye and ye men, get out and let us work.”
Iain nodded and gestured for the others to precede him. At the door, he paused. “Keep me appraised,” he ordered. When the healer nodded, never looking up, he left.
“Muireall, talk to yer man,” the healer ordered. “Yer voice will soothe him.”
Muireall pulled her stool closer to Euan’s other side and began speaking softly.
Ella knew her friend’s loving tones were the balm Euan needed more than the wine. Muireall and Euan were very much in love. While her friend’s voice was tinged with concern, even fear, Ella could see the effort she made to hide her feelings, and to reassure Euan that all would be well. Ella hoped she was right. The wound sliced deeply into his upper arm muscles. He was probably fortunate not to have lost the arm completely. The healer worked quickly to stop the bleeding, pack the wound and wrap it, then she poured a generous measure of the tincture on the wrapping over the wound, soaking it. But Ella saw that Euan had a long struggle ahead of him to heal and regain his strength in that arm.
And such a wound, in his sword arm, might have the potential, like Calum’s, to change the course of his life, and make fighting difficult if not impossible. Ella’s heart broke for him, and for Muireall, who would face that future, whatever it might be, with him.
Like Ella had hoped to do with Calum. Would her friends face the same challenges? The same fears and heartbreaks? Nay, they were already married, happy in their union, and fully supported each other. Their situation was vastly different from hers with Calum. Muireall would be able to tend to her husband with no fear of him rejecting her help. And Euan would be glad of her devotion. Ella was certain of that.
