She flinched, almost having forgotten her brother’s hound still stood in the room.
“You have another healer here, do you?” Halldor questioned, waiting only for Ulfr to shake his head in answer. “No? Then I suspect we’ll be seeing this good lady regularly until my brother’s wounds have healed. That poultice she’s wrapping around his foot will need changing soon enough.”
Halldor was right about that. Unfortunately, some of the jars she’d selected for her mix were close toempty. She had enough for two, perhaps three more treatments.
After that, she’d be forced to seek Torquil’s permission to visit Orabilis.
“That poultice and bandage will want changing in two days’ time,” she advised Chase, watching his hands as he retied the straps around the furs covering his feet. “And best you find some proper footwear, aye? Or all the herbs in the world won’t help you.”
She risked a look up just as a full grin split his face. It was as if her heart had forgotten how to beat.
“Yeah. Proper footwear. I’ll do what I can about that. Thank you for your kindness...” He paused, that half-smile tugging at his mouth again before he finished. “Christiana.”
She nodded, and the three of them filed out, her knees so weak she leaned her back against the door as she watched them walk away.
Chase’s voice was deep and rich and his words had such a strange sound to them, befitting a man who came from a faraway land. With joy, she could listen to him speak for hours on end. And if the only word he chose to say over and over again was her name, she’d be well pleased.
It was only as they crossed the bailey toward the soldier’s lodgings that she remembered what she must do.
“Ulfr!” she called, stepping outside as the sun broke from behind the clouds where it had hiddenall day. A good omen. “I’d ask you to carry a message to our laird. I’d seek an audience with him, if it pleases him.”
Ulfr nodded his acknowledgment and strode off, leading the strangers to their new quarters.
No, she reminded herself as she hurried back inside her tower. Not strangers. They were much, much more than that. They were her savior and his brother.
OceanofPDF.com
Nine
CASTLEMACGAHAN
SOUTHERNHIGHLANDS,SCOTLAND
BRIDGETMACCULLOCH PACEDalong the wall walk, a favorite spot since the first time her father had allowed her up here.
Her beloved father. Her murdered father.
Wild anger shafted through her grief-ravaged heart. After her mother’s death, Hamud had cared for her as both mother and father. Now it was time for her to pay back the debt of love she owed the man who had given her life.
You’ve no a need to fash yerself over Jamesy,her uncle had said.We’ll find you a husband to fill yer days as yer father should have done long ago, and you’ll forget this vengeance business soon enough.
Brie spat on the ground beside her.That’swhat she thought of her uncle’s idea. How could any man who shared her father’s blood be so daft? How could her own uncle know so little about her? If these men thought she was simply going to accept her father’smurder, sitting in her little cottage, mourning away her life, or devoting it to the upkeep of some slovenly bastard they chose for her, well, they were all badly mistaken.
Through her mother, Brie was a daughter of the House MacUlagh, descended from the Ancient Seven who’d ruled over this land when not even the Roman invaders had dared challenge all the way to the northern sea. Her father had honored her mother’s bloodline, training Brie with weapons even as he’d trained her older brother. Warrior ran in her blood as much as in Jamesy’s.
Except that in her blood, temper ran in equal parts with warrior. Her da had always claimed it was that which kept her from being her brother’s equal. She drew in a deep breath, fighting to tamp down the anger as her father had often instructed. Fighting to wrestle it to the ground and bury it in a deep, dark hole.
As always, she was only partially successful.
When Jamesy returned, the foul MacDowylt laird of the northern clan would be made to pay, even though Malcolm would do nothing to avenge her father’s death.
Jamesywouldreturn. Any day now. He would.
“If,” she hissed into the wind, her fists clenched at her side.IfMalcolm had told her the truth.Ifhe had actually sent word to Jamesy of what had happened to their father.
But what if he hadn’t? What if Malcolm had liedand Jamesy had no knowledge of their father’s murder? It was a possibility she had to face. If her brother didn’t return, it was up to her to set the grievance right on her own. Whatever it took, she’d make her way to Tordenet Castle and seek vengeance against the vile Torquil herself. One way or another, he would be made to pay for the crime he had committed against her family.
“By the Seven,” she vowed, stopping as her attention fell to the clanging of the heavy chains raising the gate to give someone entrance to Castle MacGahan.
