“Drummond Castle. It is an hour's ride from here and is still under our control. We will go there first to find care for Caitria, and then I will continue on to Murray Castle. I will nae make it there until well after nightfall, so we must move as quickly as we can.”
“Finn, she cannae ride a horse,” Iona whispered.
Caitria's eyes had slid shut once more, though her body twitched with pain. Finn sighed, torn between taking care of the wounded woman and getting to Seamus as quickly as he could.
“Help me,” he asked.
Taking two of the largest fallen branches they could find, Finn and Iona constructed a makeshift gurney to pull behind them. Moving as carefully and as quickly as they could, they lifted Caitria onto the blanket that had been pulled taut between the logs. Iona worked to settle her under blankets while Finn strapped it all to the saddles of two horses. A few minutes more and they set off again, with the two horses pulling Caitria following the horse that carried Finn and Iona.
“Perhaps now is nae the right time to say it,” Finn murmured in Iona's ear as they rode toward Drummond Castle, “but at least now ye will nae have to marry anyone ye dinnae wish.”
His words echoed in her mind for the rest of the journey.
The castle was allbut abandoned. No one came to greet them as they entered the castle courtyard. No one offered to see to the horses. And there wasn't anyone to answer the door whenthey knocked. Finn forced his way in, the sound of Caitria's pain echoing in the otherwise empty courtyard.
“Anyone here? We need some help!” he called out down the dark corridors. “Hello?”
His bellows echoed back to him, making him think there was no one there. He and Iona both knew that if Caitria didn't see a healer within the hour, she would die. They didn't have time to make it to another keep. Just as he was about to give up, footsteps sounded off the stone walls.
“Who goes there?” a voice asked from the shadows.
“I am Finn from the Lost Valley of Rebels. We need a healer, immediately.”
His words sparked a wave of candles to light the corridors, revealing a dozen servants who rushed over to help. They brushed past him and joined Iona in the courtyard, bringing her cold rags and tea and whatever else they needed. Two of the servants ran to the village to fetch the healer.
With every minute that passed, they got more care for Caitria, but Finn only felt more anxious. He needed to get to Seamus. There was no telling when Caitria had first left MacKenzie Castle, or when Campbell intended to attack. They needed all the time they could get to prepare for another battle. He doubted the next one would be as easy as the last one.
“Ye should go,” Caitria said, her voice stronger than it had been all day. “Ride to Seamus. I will be well looked after here.”
“We must get ye to the infirmary first and see what the healer says before we make any decisions,” Iona answered. “Finn, could ye give us a hand?”
The mismatched group of servants with Iona and Finn carried Caitria in the blanket down to the infirmary. It was more important to keep her steady than to move quickly. She had already lost so much blood that she couldn't afford to lose much more.
Just as they got her to the infirmary and settled into a bed, the healer arrived in a frenzy. He and Iona worked together to do all that they could for Caitria. Finn watched on, feeling helpless and stuck. The sun was getting lower in the sky. All he could think about was having to ride to Seamus to tell him that Campbell was going to attack and that his mother was dying. It wasn't a conversation he was eagerly awaiting to have, but it needed to happen as soon as he could manage it.
An hour or so later, the healer and Iona made their way over to where Finn had been standing against the far infirmary wall. Neither one of them looked hopeful about the situation, and Finn couldn't blame them.
“I cannae give any promises as to her chances,” the healer told them in a low, forlorn voice. “She is in verra grave condition. I will be surprised if she makes it through the night.”
“What do we do?” Iona asked Finn, just as torn as he was.
“The sooner Seamus kens about all of this, the better,” he answered.
“I will stay here with Caitria and ensure that she is taken care of. Ye ride to Seamus,” Iona insisted.
“There is only one problem with that,” Finn hesitated. “I dinnae ken that they will believe me. I have been so against them all this time. If I show up with ye still missing and spin some great tale about his mother being found in the wounds and Campbell planning an attack, I will be lucky if they dinnae throw me in a cell and tell everyone I have lost my mind.”
“I cannae go with ye,” Iona argued. “Someone must be here to see to Caitria.”
“I will nae leave her side,” the healer promised. “There has nae been much to do around here as of late. It will be nice to have something to do.”
Iona shook her head.
“Nae, she is my kin, and I cannae?—”
“Ye must go, Iona.”
The withered order came from Caitria. She had pushed herself up on her elbows and was looking at them, her face gaunt with pain.
