The Witch of Black Isle by Keira Montclair
Chapter Fifteen
The next day, they approached Eddirdale Castle on Black Isle shortly after high sun. No one had accosted them, and it was anyone’s guess as to Red’s intentions after eavesdropping on them the night before. Jennet raised her hand to signal the guard on the wall, but Padraig waved his hand at her. “I’ll take care of it.” He stopped his horse beneath the guard tower and said, “Tell your mistress that her favorite cousin of all time is here.”
The guard left. A few moments later, the portcullis raised, and Brigid came out to greet them, Tara directly behind her.
Brigid hurried to Jennet’s horse, who was still holding Ethan upright, as his condition had worsened. “There you are, Jennet. You were right to describe yourself as my favorite cousin, as that brought me out here immediately.”
Padraig dismounted and stepped in front of Brigid and Tara, his arms crossed. Then he snorted. “Who is your favorite cousin again? Surely you recognize me. I have a far more pleasing appearance than Jennet or Ethan.”
Tara snorted back. “Padraig, we know your ways by now, and while we do both love you dearly, you’re not our favorite.”
“But I will be,” he whispered, coming up behind Tara and speaking so close to her ear that she jumped.
“I didn’t see you there. And what could you possibly do to make you my favorite cousin over Brigid or Jennet?”
His eyes narrowed, a gleam shining through as he waggled his brow at her. “We’ll see how you feel in a fortnight. Surely I’ll be your favorite once I’m here for more than one day.”
Jennet said, “He’s overconfident, Tara. Ignore him. Though he isn’t my favorite, I do like to keep him around because he has a way of making me smile, no matter the situation.”
“Wish upon the next flying star you see in the night sky, Padraig. ’Tis the only way it will happen.” Tara gave him a wide grin as she taunted him. “I do like teasing you, though.”
“If you’re willing to help Jennet, then I’m going into the great hall to speak with the men.” He pointed to Ethan. “And be kind to Ethan. He’s my new favorite friend who’s not a cousin.”
“You know we’ll be kind to him. He’s my husband’s brother.” Brigid drawled, “But I doubt you’ll be speaking with any men. You meant the serving lasses, did you not?”
Padraig laughed as he headed in that direction. “You know me too well, cousin. See you inside.”
Ethan managed to muster up the strength to call out to the departing figure, “Stay away from my sister, Grant.”
Marcas and Shaw came over from the lists and took one look at Ethan before panic set in.
“Ethan? Why do you look so poor?” Marcas asked, moving directly to his horse and staring up at his brother.
“He took an arrow in the shoulder. I treated it last eve, but he’s getting worse. Do you have a healing chamber we can use, Brigid? Can we not watch him there?” Jennet asked, looking past Marcas and Shaw.
“Aye, use the chamber off the hall. Brigid, all three of you do what you must to fix him.” Marcas moved over to his wife after he helped his brother down and wrapped his arm around her, then kissed her temple. “I cannot lose my brother.”
Ethan mumbled, “I’ll be fine, but you may need to keep me from falling over, Marcas. Help me inside, if you please?”
Shaw noted, “We have the festival on the morrow. We must get him healed before then.”
Marcas helped Ethan to move forward and gave Jennet a wide-eyed stare when Ethan’s knees buckled.
Jennet said, “He’ll be fine. It was difficult treating him in a cave in the dark. We’ll wash the wound, apply a new poultice, and bandage it fresh.”
Brigid fell in next to Jennet as they followed the brothers into the keep. “How is your sire? Better?”
Jennet sighed, telling Brigid more with the sigh than with her words. “He’s not doing well, and we don’t know why. I’ll explain later. First we must tend Ethan.”
Once they had him settled, Brigid gave instructions to Nonie as to what they needed, and she hurried out to retrieve everything while his brothers took their leave. Tara pulled her stool next to Ethan and nearly touched him, but his reaction was swift.
“Nay, Jennet only. No one else. Please.”
Tara said, “But I’ll do my best and will be gentle, Ethan.”
“Jennet, please.”
Jennet clasped Tara’s shoulder and said, “Please allow me.”
“But you look exhausted, Jennet.”
Brigid stood behind Tara. “He doesn’t like the touch of strangers.”
Ethan looked at Brigid and gave a small nod of thanks. “I trust Jennet. We understand each other.”
Tara offered a nod of understanding and said, “Jennet, please tell us how we can help you.”
Jennet sat down and had Ethan remove his tunic, doing her best to hide her attraction to the muscles in his arms, the flat plane of his belly, and the fine line of hair that led to something else beneath his plaid. “I must drain it again, but can you answer a few questions, please?”
“Of course,” he said, his eyes locking on Jennet’s.
“Is it less painful, the same, or worse?”
He scowled at her, then said, “Touch it with the linen square, then I’ll tell you.”
She did as he asked, and he didn’t seem bothered until her linen touched the farthest edge, the spot where the arrow entered.
Brigid said, “Did the arrow break off?”
Ethan replied, “I yanked it off to go after the fool who assaulted me.”
Tara looked from Brigid to Jennet. “Could the tip still be inside? Would that cause it to fester more?”
It was as if her mother were standing behind her, encouraging her forward, wanting her to say that it was possible. “Mama has seen it happen multiple times. We must search inside for the tip of the arrow.”
“Do what you must,” Ethan said.
“Ethan, this will hurt more. But once we remove it, the pain should lessen.”
“As long as it fixes it, I can tolerate it. Dig quickly, though.”
Jennet nodded, going for a tool she used to pull small pieces out of odd places. “All right.”
The door opened and Nonie entered. “Here is all you wanted, and I brought ale for Ethan.”
“Great idea, Nonie. Ethan, take a few sips before I start. I wish to arrange all my supplies.” She needed to settle herself, truth be known. She was nervous, and the situation was similar to the one she’d been in not long ago. All she could think of was her father and how awful that had been. Visions of Ethan trying to strike her nearly brought her to tears.
“Jennet,” Ethan said, setting the ale goblet down. “Look at me, please.”
She brought her gaze up to his, trying to still the shudder that threatened to course through her. His voice, as calming as any she’d ever heard, soothed her instantly. “Jennet, I promise I’ll not strike you. No matter how much it hurts, I’d never swing at you like your sire did. Take it from your mind.”
She stared into his gray eyes, the color of the glorious Scottish sky scattered with white clouds. Jennet felt a calm come over, because she trusted him. “I know you’ll not hurt me, Ethan.” She caught Brigid nudging Tara from the corner of her eye. They’d probably heard the comment about her father attempting to hit her, but she didn’t have time to explain.
“Just do it quickly. Fear not and move on.”
She nodded and said, “I’m ready.” She set the point of the clean dagger at the edge of his wound, the purulent liquid gushing out. When it was nearly finished, she poured clean water over it, washing more of the poison into the basin. After that, she patted the wound dry with a linen square, watching his reaction to the gentle touch.
At one end, he winced, so she said, “Ethan, I’m going to use a tool to probe for the end of the arrow. It could be still inside you. Mama said it could cause a fever if it’s not removed.” How easy it would have been if her sire had been struck by an arrow.
Ethan closed his eyes and said, “Go ahead.”
She probed as quickly as possible, at first staying away from his most painful spot, but then she placed her tool directly in the center of the wound.
Ethan yelled, and she grew wide-eyed. “’Tis there. I found it, Ethan. Allow me to position it so I can grab onto the piece of arrow and remove it.” She did it carefully so as not to risk breaking another piece and leaving that behind. When she thought she had it, she pinched the tool together and pulled it out, holding it up toward the light of the torch behind Tara. “I have it. Ethan, I found what was causing your problem. The tip of the arrow had embedded itself in your flesh.”
“Good, because I don’t know how much more I could take.” His gaze went back to the wound. “Touch it again and see if I notice a difference.”
She placed a fresh linen square against the same spot, but he never flinched. “Ethan, it no longer pains you?”
“Nay, it doesn’t hurt much at all. You fixed me, lass.”
“I’m so glad, Ethan. Close your eyes and rest up.” Once she finished bandaging his shoulder, she knew he would now be able to sleep comfortably through the night, and she prayed it would prove the end of his fever once the poultice settled in.
They applied more salve and bandaged him. Afterward, Jennet turned around to face her dear cousins and said, “I think we’ve done enough to fix him. I’m going to rest now, once I find something to eat.”
She moved out into the great hall with her cousins, surprised to see the number of people gathered there. Some bustled about, others sat in groups chatting. Marcas stood as soon as they entered to escort Brigid, Tara, and Jennet over to a table where Shaw, Padraig, and Torcall sat.
“Greetings all,” she offered, though half-heartedly. Now that she believed she’d actually helped Ethan, she felt exhausted.
As soon as she sat down, Edda brought out a bowl of stew for her, something she desperately needed. “Many thanks to you, Edda. I’m famished after a diet of oatcakes and bread.”
She ate slowly, savoring Jinny’s flavorful creation, but then her eyes were drawn to a strange reaction from Padraig. His gaze stopped on something coming down the stairs.
“Well, who is this beauty joining us?” he asked, standing and offering the woman his chair.
Marcas said, “This is our sister, Gisela. Don’t get any bright ideas about spending time with her. She’s taken.”
Gisela sat down and retorted, “I am not taken. Do not listen to my brother. And you are?”
“Padraig Grant, mayhap the youngest of my generation of males, but as in many other things, they save the best for last.” He gave her a little bow, then said to Jennet, “You did not tell me you were hiding this rare beauty here. And I sense a keen mind, too.”
Gisela tossed her hair back and said, “Since I’m the youngest of four, I’ll not argue that point at all.”
Padraig smiled and said, “I think we have much to talk about, lass. I look forward to it.”
Jennet rolled her eyes, got up from her chair, and said, “I’m going to bed.”