Page 11 of Confessions of a Highland Assassin

“I will dae all I can tae help everyone. Keep yer hand on his wound until I get back,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried to the cupboard where she kept the bulk of her supplies.

By now, the tiny cabin was filled with all the men sitting in their various states of distress. Some lay sprawled out on the floor while others sat up with their heads resting on their knees.

“What battle were ye men fighting?” Ava asked the nearest soldier with a small headwound as she search the cupboard for the right bandage.

“We were at Killiecrankie with the rest o’ the Jacobite uprising. We lost Viscount Dundee, but we won the battle,” he answered but a bad cough cut off his speech. Another soldier took it from then on.

“Our party got separated when we went looking for help. It was a fair bit o’ luck that we found ye. A healer was exactly what we needed.”

So, they think that I am a healer… Ava breathed a quick sigh of relief as she carried on searching for bandages . She didn’t need to ask who Viscount Dundee was. John Graham of Claverhouse was notorious for his involvement with the Jacobite army.

It was rumored that ‘Bonnie Dundee’, as most Jacobites referred to him, was leading the men in battle. A rumor that now proved to be true, if he was dead.

Finding what she needed, Ava quickly pulled the bandages from the cupboard, along with a paste that Sophia used for their wounds and hurried back to the man lying on her brother’s bed. “I need ye tae hold his arm up so that I can cover his wound with this,” she motioned to the little container with yellow paste that smelled like mint. “Slip this bandage over,” she gestured for the soldier to help her.

The man did as she said and lifted his comrade’s arm, eliciting a groan of pain from the patient. “He will be all right, willnae he?” the man asked, panicking as his friend groaned a little louder and blood seeped from the wound.

“He will be once I’ve stopped this damned bleeding,” Ava tried to reassure him while placing a bundle of tightly wrapped bandages over the paste covering the wound. The bleeding seemed to stop as she looped the outer bandage over the man’s shoulder and tied it just above his clavicle.

Ava had assisted all her brother’s healers while they cared for him over the years, picking up more than her fair share of knowledge on the matter. Noticing that a normal knot would not hold if the man were to wake up and move, she did a series of complex loops and tied the knot into a tiny ball that resembled a rose.

“That will hold the bandage in place, mind ye, naebody try tae take it off until ye have reached where ye are going. Otherwise, the bleeding will start all over again and I cannae guarantee his survival if that happens,” she placed her hands on her hips and stared down at her handiwork. “I’m sure ye have a healer wherever ye are going, she will ken what tae dae if the bleeding starts again. He has tae be stitched but I dinnae have the supplies tae do it.”

“Thank ye so much miss, I dinnae ken what we would have done without ye,” the panicked warrior breathed a sigh of relief. “There would be hell tae pay if the laird had died.”

Ava’s head snapped up as she quickly addressed the man. “What laird?”

“Laird Boyd Cameron,” the man motioned with his head toward the bed. “Ye saved the life o’ yer Laird.”

Ava returned her eyes to the bed and observed the man she had just saved. The pressure of his labored breathing caused his broad chest to rise and fall. He was more handsome than any man she had ever seen. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed a sliver of toned muscle beneath his bloodied shirt.

So, this was the man she needed to kill.

Her eyes went back to her storage cupboard. What are the odds that my target will wander so helplessly right intae my arms? It would be nothing for her to slip him a potion and say that he had succumbed to his wounds. Nobody ever needed to know, and the job would be done.

However, the special condition that had been set forth would still hang. Ava turned her gaze back to the bed trying to escape her sinister, unwanted thoughts. This handsome man with his wounded side was not only the man she needed to kill but the man whose heart she needed to steal.

“I need tae see tae the other men,” Ava said more quietly as she hurried away from the man hovering over the laird. She suddenly realized that her mission could be jeopardized, should any of these soldiers recognize her in the future.

It was a huge relief that she’d already been wearing her disguise, but her voice was harder to hide. She busied herself caring for the men’s wounds as she quietly listened to their conversations, hoping that something they said could be of use later.

Her patience paid off when she overheard two soldiers speaking next to the man whose wounded leg she was seeing to. She slowed her pace and methodically took her time with the bandage as she listened to their banter.

“Aye, I cannae wait tae get back tae the castle and have a wee dram. That ale is calling tae me.”

“That would be the ticket. A wee dram and some lasses tae take the edge off o’ the pain.”

The soldier rolled his eyes at his friend. “Like ye could handle more than one lassie at a time, ye stubborn arse, dinnae lie.”

“Oi, I can handle my own. Dinnae ye worry about that. Just give me a room full o’ lasses and watch me work my magic. The lassies are drawn tae me like a moth tae a flame,” he flittered his hand through the air to mimic a moth.

Ava turned slightly to the left so that she could get a better look at them.

Both men were short and bearded with dark brown eyes and dirty faces. They looked as though they could have been brothers or cousins, at least.

“More like a fly tae a steaming pile o’ dung where ye are concerned, Angus,” the soldier mocked his friend relentlessly.

“I’ll show ye, ye two-bit mare.”