Highlander’s Winter Rose by Fiona Faris
Chapter Three
When Maximus woke up again, it was morning. He blinked at the ceiling. He remembered everything, and he could feel the throb in his ankle as well as the weakness in his whole body. He was also hungry, his stomach growling. All of these were very clear in his mind, but he was calm. The faint smell of smoke and wax remained in the room despite the window being opened, and he knew a candle must have been lit overnight.
Whatever the woman had given him, it clearly worked. He slept soundly, and that sleep helped him to sort out his disorganized emotions. His grief and anger were still there, but he was more controlled now. The room he was in was simple despite being feminine. He wondered who she was, as the room was spacious and boasted of well-made furniture.
She did not seem like a regular villager at all, as none of their houses could be like this. He was not even sure which village it was that she had brought him too. He knew he was near the border somewhere, however, because she could not have dragged him too far from where he fell, and he knew that he had neared the border.
He had unconsciously been heading for the Kellgan clan. Elaise was the only one he could trust unconditionally in such a situation. It was risky to go to anyone else. He wondered how she was taking the news. Surely, she would have heard by now. He was not sure how many days it had been since he fell off Barny. It must have been at least three days, assuming the woman who saved him had found his body the very morning after his collapse.
He thought of the red-haired woman again. She was an absolute beauty, and her voice had soothed his aching soul. If things were different, he might have been thinking of wooing her, but now the feelings that overwhelmed him were of gratitude. She knew nothing about him, yet she had saved him and nursed him, even when he had woken up at first and been troublesome.
Movement in the corner of his eye made him turn his head, and he saw her standing in the doorway with a wooden tray in hand and an apron around her waist. Her eyes widened when she noticed him looking at her, and her face burst into a large smile.
“Ah, ye are awake! And calm too!” she exclaimed, hurrying into the room and kicking the door shut behind her. She set the tray down on the table, and he was able to see the food laid out on it. His stomach growled loudly in response, and she looked up at him, slightly startled. Then a small smile broke out on her face, and she tried to hide her giggles behind her hand.
For some reason, his face heated up, and he looked away, feeling embarrassed, even though he also found it somewhat funny. She came over to help him sit up in the bed by arranging the pillows behind him, and having her hover over him, smelling like fresh berries, made his face get even warmer.
Ah, this is embarassin’. Before such a beauty, and I cannae even sit up on me own.
She smiled kindly as she helped him up, and he gritted his teeth and winced as she helped him move. His body was seriously aching; he did not want to move a muscle. She looked at him once he was in an upright position.
“Are ye alright?” she asked.
“Aye,” he said immediately, rushing to speak after realizing that he had been quiet for so long and had not even thanked her properly for helping him. “Thank ye… for this, and for savin’ me. I am forever in yer debt.”
To his words she only smiled.
“Ye are welcome,” she finally said.
He followed her with his eyes as she went to bring the tray from the table and sit on the bed beside him to help him eat.
“Wh… What is yer name?” he asked as she lifted the spoon to his lips. He allowed her to feed him even though he thought it embarrassing. It was not like he could do it himself.
“My name is Rosallyn Grant,” she said, her eyes focused on the spoon at his mouth so that she did not make a mistake and spill food on him. He waited a few minutes, eating as she fed him, but he was wondering why she did not ask him his own name. One would think that after going to all that trouble to save him, it would be the first thing she asked.
She finished feeding him, however, and did not ask him once. He watched perplexed as she returned the tray to the table and brought him a drink of water, followed by more medicine.
“I dinnae want ye to lie down now as ye just finished eating. I will return in a few minutes to help ye lie down again,” she said when he was finished drinking. Seeing that she was indeed going to leave without asking, he spoke up.
“Are ye nae goin’ to ask me who I am? Ye have done so much for me, are ye nae curious how I came to have such injuries and if I will be a danger to ye?” he asked. He could be anyone as far as she knew, even an assassin with a bounty on his head. She gave him a smile so bright, he instinctively felt like squinting, although she did not emit any real light.
“Aye, I am curious, but yer story is somethin’ that ye will tell me if ye want to. I am nae going to push ye to dae so. A man’s secrets are his own to share. I simply did what I thought was right by helpin’ ye, nay matter who ye are. To me, ye are a man who needs me help,” she said simply, before walking out of the room.
He sat there for several moments after she left, shocked by what she said. Did she have no sense of self-preservation? What was she? A saint? Why would she help him so selflessly and not even demand to know who the person she helped was? Her words, however, reminded him of something General Grant used to say.
Every man has his own story, and it is up to him whether or nae he will share it with ye. However, it is yer duty to accord each man kindness and respect as ye dae nae ken his story.
He felt sadness creep into his mind as he thought of the General. Robert Grant was a wise man and his father’s close friend. His father had so much trust in the man. It was Robert who had taught both Maximus and Alexander how to fight. He was a part of their family, and Maximus could not imagine his childhood without seeing the General’s face.
As she had said, after a few minutes, Rosallyn returned to help him lie down again. She was not going to ask, but she deserved to know, so when she had moved him, he began to speak before she could leave.
“My name is Maximus Mackay. I am the second son of Joseph Mackay, the Laird of our Mackay clan,” he said. Although she had her back to him, he heard her gasp. She turned to face him with concern etched over her features, her eyes full of questions. It was not a normal thing for the Laird’s son to be found bleeding and on the verge of death in the forest.
“I ken that ye must be wonderin’ how I ended up in this state. Sadly, it is bad news I bring. Our clan has fallen to the hands of the Ross clan and their Laird.” He hated saying those words. Up until that moment, he had not said them out loud. Doing so felt like he made it real. If someone had told him two weeks ago that he would say that, he would have laughed. No, even mere days ago he would have laughed. He gritted his teeth and plowed on.
“Both my father and me brother, the heir, were killed, and I was injured durin’ an ambush in battle. We were betrayed by the members of the council and our own soldiers. I was headed off into battle and, on the way, news reached me that the council had betrayed us, and me fellow commanders attacked me…” He trailed off in the middle as the next part was difficult for him to say.
“I… saw Donald Ross draggin’ the bodies of my father and brother behind his horse as though they were animals…” he spat, his voice continuing to crack as the images rushed through his head. He shut his eyes in a futile attempt to quell them.
“I had to fight our own clansmen alongside the enemy’s forces. I was tryin’ to escape to Kellgan; me brother was betrothed to the Laird’s daughter, and my father was the Laird’s friend. They are our allies. I was too injured durin’ the battle, however, and I collapsed in the forest. The usurper will send men here soon, and ye will be in trouble for helpin’ me. He is killin’ or arrestin’ all those who dinnae support him. If ye continue to help me and are discovered, ye will be killed or arrested,” he finished, keeping his head down.
She had saved him, but doing so meant that she was in danger. She deserved to know that. If she did not want him to stay, he would understand. She had done enough by simply keeping him alive. However, the words that came out of her mouth next were not what he expected.
“Robert Grant…” she whispered, her voice shaky. He looked up at her, surprised to hear that name from her lips. Her facial expression rocked him to his core, however. Her eyes were wide and panicked, tears already forming. She looked half-crazed as she came to kneel by his bed, gripping his good hand tightly with a pleading look on her face. “Ye ken General Robert Grant, dae ye nae? He… he was not a betrayer, was he?”
Maximus felt his eyes widen in horror as he held her gaze… He had thought before that her eyes were familiar… Even moments ago, she had said words that sounded familiar. Her name was… Rosallyn… Grant. Why had it taken him so long to realize who she was? He knew the General had an illegitimate daughter that, out of respect to his wife, did not live with him. The general, however, spent every winter with his child, an agreement he had come to with his wife. Rosallyn was that child.
“Oh, nay…” he lamented. How cruel were the fates? His eyes smarted with fresh tears as he realized she had saved him, but he would have to ruin her happiness by telling her that her father had died while trying to save him. She asked if he was a betrayer, but her eyes clearly asked if he was still alive.
“Nay… he was nae a betrayer… General Grant was the one man me family loved and respected the most… He would never have done such a thing,” he said. Rosallyn stumbled back, the tears pooling in her eyes and dripping onto her face as she fell to her seat on the floor.
“Was? Did ye say… was?” she whispered. Now that the tears had come down, they were a never-ending stream. He nodded sorrowfully, his own tears filling his eyes. The fates were truly cruel to make him who owed her the most be the one to break such horrible news to her.
“I am sorry… I am so sorry. It is my fault… It is all my fault that he is gone. Yer father was with me when the commanders turned on us… and… he sacrificed himself, distractin’ them to give me the time to escape. He said… He said that I was too important to die there… He said I am the only one who can stand against the usurper for the Lairdship, so I should escape. I… I watched him fall from his horse, surrounded by enemies. I am sorry… Yer father didnae make it,” he somehow managed to say through the heaviness in his chest. He needed to confess, even though it wreaked havoc within him.
Rosallyn continued to stare at him, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open as though she did not understand his words.
“What?” she asked in a trembling voice. “Nay… ye cannae… There is nay way that he would… Father said… He promised...” The tears just kept streaming down her face as she stammered through her words. Seeing her like that broke him. Only moments ago, she had been so bright, now he had caused that light to die away and be replaced by dark clouds. He gritted his teeth.
“I am sorry… It is all my fault…” he apologized.
He was still speaking when she got up from the floor, her face like flint. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when he noticed that she was trying to hold herself together. Right. He did not deserve to say anything to her after what he had caused.
“Ye should…” she started, then paused for a moment as her voice cracked. “Ye should rest some more, I will return to bring ye lunch “
With those words she hurried out of the room. Maximus stared at the ceiling hopelessly, his sadness weighing down on him. Now he had even more reason to judge himself harshly. If he had listened immediately, then he would not have had to give her such bad news. In fact, her father might have come for her, and they could have escaped together. Would she forgive him?
Did he even deserve forgiveness? She was much like her father, kind and righteous, always ready to help others. She had gone to the trouble of saving him without the help of anyone when it was for him that her father had laid down his life. He had done his own grieving, now he was going to give her the space she needed to grieve. Whatever she decided to do after that, he would respect her wishes.
…
Rosallyn had thought of many things when the question of who the handsome man was came to mind. She thought of the good possibilities and of the bad, but not once did she imagine that he was the Laird’s son. It was worse than anything she could have thought of on her own. The Laird and The Younger were dead. What this meant was that the clan had fallen into chaos. In her little border village where she lived, it made sense that she would not know yet. It was only a few days ago.
Was this the war her father had mentioned? He had promised that it would only make him late. He said that he would return. She knew that the clan was strong, and her father too was strong. So even when she felt doubt begin to creep in, she made a conscious decision to trust him. Now she was getting news that they had been betrayed. Why would the council and the commanders turn against them? What could the usurper have offered that would make them agree to treason? Who was the usurper? She had never heard of the Ross clan. For her father not to mention it, the clan must not have been important.
The Laird was a good man. Her father said so all the time, and she trusted her father, but it was not just him. Even the villagers down at the market said so too. The monastery where her grandmother worked at was built by the Laird. Supplies from the castle reached them every month, nonstop. In the years when the village struggled and had not been able to produce enough to care for themselves properly, the Laird sent supplies to the people. Why would the council and commanders turn against such a leader?
Why would they make such a decision that led to her father’s death? Even when she asked, she already knew that there was no way her father would have betrayed the Laird. He was too good a man. Maximus said that those who remained on the side of the Laird were either killed or arrested by the usurper. She knew that it was unlikely since her father was a fighter, but she had hoped that he would be arrested. At least he would still be alive. He was all she had left.
She had left Maximus in the room, needing to be alone, and now she was sitting with her back against the door in her grandmother’s room with tears streaming down her face. She was holding back, trying not to break down. She had wondered what it could have been that tortured Maximus so much that he had gotten up the first time in a crazed panic, and had begun to sob in his sleep. Now she was in that same state.
She was not sure how much time had passed, but her tears continued. She had no control whatsoever over how much she cried. Her grief was so palpable that it was as though her sadness had grown a head of its own and now controlled her. Yes, she could understand Maximus now. If he had seen all of this happen, of course he would have reacted like that. She had only been told, and she was in such a state.
They had not had enough time together. She used to think that she was content with seeing him only during the winter, but now she realized that she had been lying to herself. She wished she had more time with him. More time to experience the love of her father, listen to his stories, heed his lessons, and take his advice.
She wanted to be angry, to be upset that he broke his promise, to hold it against Maximus that her father died for him, to wish that her father was less of a good person. However, she could not bring herself to think that way. Her father had raised her too differently. All she was left with was the deep sadness and regret. She should have told him to stay. It had only been two weeks since he had left her, and now she was hearing that she would never see him again.
“Rosallyn, when ye are faced with difficult times, ye should nae focus on what has already happened, but on what ye can dae about it. If ye allow yerself to wallow too much, ye might make the wrong decision for the future.”
Her father’s voice was so clear in her head. It was as though he were right beside her. That only served to make her sob even harder. What could she do about it? At first, she had asked the question as a lament, but her mind began to process it. Maximus was right. If the Lairdship was now in the hands of a usurper, once he was settled, the next thing he would do would be to look for Maximus. If that happened, it meant that she would be in trouble.
The answer came to her as clear as day. She would need to nurse him back to health as much as she could, and then follow him to Kellgan to get the help he would need to get the Lairdship back. She would stand with those who could give her justice for her father’s death. He had given his life to ensure that Maximus, who was the true heir to the Lairdship now, would survive. She would honor his choice and make sure that she supported Maximus to the fullest.
In the light of his situation, she realized that her earlier plan of helping him first and then going to the monastery to tell her grandmother about it was not a good idea. She did not want her grandmother or anyone else to get involved in this. Now she would make it a point to keep him a secret from everyone in the village. For their own safety, as well as hers. Thankfully, people did not come up to the house often, and when they did, it was usually to find her grandmother.
She did not think anyone would come up to find her, but she would be careful just in case. She needed to hurry and treat him as quickly as possible. This meant that she would be needing some more medicine, salves and ice. She would have to go down to the village the next day and collect the medicines from her grandmother in the monastery and buy ice from the ice harvester.
Her tears finally dried up, and she got up, going out to feed the horse as she had not been able to due to her sorrow, and midday had been reached. Once the horse was fed, she went back into the house to begin making lunch.
Dinnae worry faither. I will make sure that yer death is nae in vain. I will make ye proud, so watch me and give me the strength to carry on.
