Page 53 of Confessions of a Highland Assassin

“I see ye didnae get a chance tae touch yer dinner,” he gestured to the full table. “The battle will take a while and we need tae keep up our strength. There is naething else we can do. Care tae join me, me Lady?” he hobbled over to the table and took Boyd’s seat.

“Nay!” Ava yelled when he was about to bring Boyd’s mug of ale to his lips.

He frowned at her and lowered the mug to the table.

“Boyd said there was something funny about that mug, the ale tasted strange… apparently,” she quickly lied. “Best tae take a fresh mug.”

He pushed the mug aside and took a clean one from the tray. “I’ll have the maids throw it out when they clean. Please, join me, Miss Sinclair.”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could help with the injured men. I used tae help our healer with my brother’s care and picked up quite a bit from her.”

Hamish bit into a piece of meat and chewed as if he had all the time in the world. “That’s very unusual for a lady tae ken a skill such as healing. But I’m afraid the laird requested for ye tae stay in the study. And I must say I agree with him. The healer’s quarters will be filled with injured soldiers, it’s nae place for a lady. We need tae ensure that ye are kept safe.”

“But surely the quarters are inside the safety of the castle walls? I will nae come tae any harm in there.”

“Aye, beside the kitchen,” Hamish said calmy as he bit into a ripe pear and chewed as the juice ran from the corner of his mouth. Ava waited for him to look at the food on the table before taking a step toward the door.

“Nevertheless, lass, it’s safer in the study…”

She could hear his voice calling after her as she hurried down the hall toward the kitchens.

“Miss Sinclair! Come back!”

She picked up the hem of her dress and run down the corridors. It was a good thing that she remembered the way from earlier when she and Skye had spiked the drink. Ava would be damned if she were to sit idly in the study while good men needed help. She’d made quite a few bad decisions in the past few weeks. But leaving helpless men to suffer was not going to be one of them.

Ava could hear the groaning of injured soldiers as she neared the kitchens. The cries of agony led the way to where she wanted to be. Rounding a corner, she descended the steps into the basement and entered a large room with wounded men laying on either side of the open room.

Furniture and plants had been bundled in a corner to make room for the stretchers and men.

The stone walls held four torches that lit the room. Ava immediately felt at home surrounded by the musky scent of dried herbs and fresh plants. Several young women rushed about as they carried pales of fresh water and clean bandages. There was a sort of organized chaos in the atmosphere that lit a fire in Ava’s soul. This was where she belonged.

“Who are ye?” an elderly lady barked at Ava while rushing to a large table. She was tall and thin with a grey bun atop her head. Her piercing brown eyes and straight nose with sharp features conveyed the message that she took no nonsense. The sleeves of her black dress were rolled all the way up to her elbows as she mashed herbs with her mortar and pestle over the table right next to the healer.

“Ava Sinclair,” she answered quickly. “I’m here tae help with the injured men.”

The lady stopped and looked her over, from her neatly done hair to her fancy dress. “Ye be a lady. What use will ye be tae injured men?”

Ava loved the way the woman barked at her with authority. She was far more comfortable being treated in this manner. “I am a lady, but I ken a fair deal about healing. If ye give me a chance I will show ye exactly what I can do.”

The woman looked her over again. The exhaustion from the battle was beginning to show in the bags beneath her eyes. “Very well,” she nodded to the right. “See tae the men with flesh wounds and dinnae do anything serious if the healer disnae tell ye tae. Ye can call me Anne.”

Ava mumbled a short “pleasure tae meet ye, Anne,” but the woman was already mending another injury, along with the main healer, and deaf to anything but her work.

Ava plucked a piece of string from the table and tied her hair into a bun before sprigging into action. The sounds of fighting men were clearly audible even through the shut doors and windows. Ava felt full of life as she examined the injured men and saw to their wounds.

She caught the healer giving nods of approval when she used a tonic to ease a man’s pain before setting his leg that had been broken in three places. All the soldiers she was seeing to had minor injuries that could wait. The healer was seeing to more life-threatening situations. Ava itched to help them all. But she knew she had to mind her place until she gained the healer’s trust.

“Leave that man and come over here. I could use a more skilled hand tae help me with the severe wounds,” the healer called to her after a while just as she was about to sew up a cut on a soldier’s cheek. Finally! Ava thought to herself. Anne looked at her with what seemed a smile.

Wiping her hands on her now ruined dress, Ava handed the needle and thread over to a young girl with brown hair before rushing over to the healer’s side.

“We have tae stop this man’s bleeding as soon as we can,” he instructed Ava as she knelt beside a man nestled in the corner.

The man lying on the stretcher in front of them looked to be in his mid-twenties, with sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes filled with pain. He was drifting in and out of conciseness. Blood was seeping from a wound in his leg that ran from his knee to his thigh, presumably from an enemy sword.

“We will need tae lather this wound with crushed yarrow if we are tae stop the bleeding,” Ava assessed the situation as quickly as she could. “Simple bandages and pressure willnae suffice in this case.”

“I’m impressed, miss Sinclair,” the healer said as he kept pressure on the wound while Ava reached for the fresh yarrow that hung from the ceiling in bunches. A good healer knew to keep a steady supply of the little yellow flowers always in stock.