The Silent Highlander by Donna Fletcher

Chapter 10

Elysia smiled as she laid the garment aside she had been working on and tucked her needle into a scrap of cloth. With no one seeking any healing today, she had been free to do what she loved—stitch. She had repaired several garments and it was just past mid-day.

Stretching herself up from the chair with a wince from an ache in her back, she decided a wander through the village would do her good. And she had a good reason for one, delivering the finished garments to their owners.

She hurried on her cloak, eager for the feel of the crisp harvest air. She snatched up the basket, where she had placed the garments, off the table and went out the door. The air held a good nip to it and seeing how busy the village was, it was obvious everyone was concerned about being prepared for a cold winter ahead.

Her first stop was Elva’s cottage, a woman’s whose age had robbed her of some her abilities.

“You are a luv,” Elva said, taking the repaired tunic from Elysia. “These old fingers of mine can’t do what they used to and this tunic is the warmest one I have.” Elva’s many wrinkles deepened as she smiled. “I can’t even tell where you repaired it. My grandson brought me a few quail eggs, let me give you some.”

Elysia reached out and stilled the woman with a gentle touch. She knew Elva probably had only two or three eggs for herself, but felt the need to compensate Elysia for her work. “You keep the eggs, Elva, and I will bring you ointment to ease the pain in your hands.” Elysia smiled wide. “And with your hands feeling better you can bake some of your delicious honey oat cakes and give me two or three. Though I wouldn’t say no to four or five.”

Elva laughed, then whispered, “I will make you six.”

“You spoil me, Elva.”

“You are a kind and loving woman, Elysia, and I am glad to see you so happily wed. What has it been? Three weeks now?”

Elysia couldn’t believe it herself as she nodded. “Aye, three weeks and I am blessed with a good marriage.”

“That is good. Many marriages aren’t so blessed.”

Elysia thought about Elva’s remark as she continued through the village. She had grown happier by the day with Saber and he appeared to feel the same. They had settled into a routine that pleased them both. Saber walked her to her cottage every morning and returned for her before dusk. He’d visit her a couple of times throughout the day and she knew he did it to make sure she was all right. The nights, though, when they settled in bed were the best. They made love every night. She felt her cheeks heat with a faint blush, thinking of how often they also made love in the morning. Her cheeks heated again when she thought how daring she had become touching her husband intimately and enjoying it, and how Saber encouraged her.

She was also happy at how much Saber’s voice was improving. He was able to speak more without his throat growing sore. She was confident that very soon his throat would be well healed.

She was soon at Brit’s cottage.

“Come in,” Brit offered with a smile when she opened the door to Elysia.

Elysia entered, and seeing the bairn asleep in the cradle, kept her voice low. “I have a small gift for Lenis.”

Brit took it and her smile grew when she saw the lovely swaddling blanket Elysia had stitched from various cloths into a lovely design. “This is beautiful, Elysia. Thank you so much. Would you like to sit and have a brew?”

Elysia glanced at the table. “You are busy baking bread, perhaps another time.”

Brit laughed softly. “I do what I can while Lenis sleeps. I sometimes nap with her when I can.”

“A wise choice,” Elysia said. “You look well. Are you feeling well?”

“I feel good, though for a while I was worried that Kevin would be forced to go fight for the Clan MacBridan. Everyone seems to think that Bram has been successful since he has yet to return home and no dire word has been heard from him. I pray that is so.”

Elysia found herself lost in Brit’s words after leaving the cottage. A niggling of fear still poked at her at times that Saber would be taken from her, though it didn’t seem likely. She felt for Brit and the other women whose men would be called to fight, knowing some of them wouldn’t return. Senseless loss always tugged at her heart and even more so now that she had a husband to lose.

She finished delivering the other repaired garments, receiving food items and wood to be delivered to her wood stack at the cottage in exchange for her work. Bliss had always been grateful for the wood. It had provided a good supply for the winter. She was glad to add to the stockpile, hoping Annis would be home before winter settled in, leaving her no worries about heating the cottage.

She made her way back to the cottage and with it being only a couple of hours before dusk and with gray clouds rushing overhead with a sure promise of rain, she decided to head home.

Her mind was a flutter with endless thoughts that she wished to chase away. She breathed deep and concentrated on the rhythm of her steps, until her mind stilled and she enjoyed the sound of the birds, the scurry of the animals, the scent of rain in the air, the rustle of branches, and the crunch of leaves from footfalls.

She halted at the sound of the footfalls and turned her attention on her surroundings. Was someone following her? She was too far from the cottage to call out to her husband. Annis had often advised her to keep a knife tucked in her boot. She had argued with her sister, insisting that she didn’t have the strength to fight off a man. Annis thought otherwise. She insisted that a knife placed in certain strategic areas worked wonders. She wished she had listened to her.

A rustle of branches almost had her running until she spotted the person who broke past them—Rory.

“I told you to be careful of who you trust,” Rory said, his unsteady steps indicating that he’d enjoyed more than his share of ale.

Wanting to avoid any confrontation, she said, “I do my best.”

Rory tapped near his cheek and having missed his intended target pushed his finger up near his eye. “Don’t you see what’s in front of you?”

“Tell me what I fail to see,” Elysia said, thinking his drink spoke more for him than he did himself.

Rory shook his head. “You have to see it for yourself.”

“Why?” she asked.

Rory’s head hung down as if in defeat. “You won’t believe it otherwise.”

“I will look harder,” she said.

His head jolted up. “That is wise of you. You are a kind and good woman, Elysia. I don’t want the same fate for you as my sweet Shona.”

Elysia stared at Rory as he took unsteady steps to the village. She wondered what he meant. How could her fate be the same as Shona? She hadn’t wed the cursed lord, her sister Bliss had.

Eager to reach home, she hurried her steps and was overjoyed when the croft came into view and her husband as well. He was bare-chested and drying his hair and chest, no doubt from a dunk in the rain barrel after working the land all day. He smiled when he caught sight of her and her stomach fluttered. She still got a thrill when she saw him and she didn’t think that would ever change. She’d always be happy to see him.

She held the basket up as she approached. “I delivered the stitching I finished and have some fine vegetables to make a stew.”

Saber approached her quickly, snagged her around the waist and lowered his head to whisper, “Hungry, but not for food.” He loved that her cheeks turned soft pink when he teased her. Sometimes they would blossom red, but that was mostly when they were intimate.

“You hungry too?” he asked and the color of her cheeks deepened answering for her.

“We should eat,” she said.

“Aye,” he said and lowered his head to steal a kiss and nibble at her lower lip when done.

She wondered if it was at all proper to desire her husband as much as she did. She had been well aware of her wifely duty but never had she considered how much she would enjoy it. She hurried into the cottage, shedding her cloak and basket, ready to prepare supper, though it wasn’t food she hungered for.

Her husband followed after her and she turned, a gasp catching in her throat when her eyes met his potent green ones. Passion flared in them hot and anxious, scalding her to fever pitch. She didn’t hesitate. She couldn’t. Her body demanded and who was she to deny such a demand?

Saber’s arm caught around her waist and he hoisted her up to be able to kiss her without bending over. And kiss her he did. He had ached for her lips all day. He had had to stop himself from going to her cottage and sealing them in there for the whole day. It wasn’t that he couldn’t get enough of her. It was that he didn’t feel whole unless buried deep inside her. And he hadn’t felt whole in a long time.

She clamped her arms around his neck relieved to be in his arms again. It was where she belonged—always.

“Can’t wait,” he said when he broke away from her lips after feeding hungrily off them and finally allowing them both to breathe.

She felt the same, though had no time to say so, since he hoisted her up higher quickly. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him for balance and held on.

His arm slipped beneath her bottom, giving it a firm squeeze as he walked to brace her back against the door. “Lift your garments.”

She did so without question, glad she had not worn stockings. then grabbed at his plaid to push it aside. His thick shaft probed between her legs and with little difficultly entered her with such swiftness and sinking deeply that she banged her head against the door when she dropped it back an “OH!” rushing from her mouth.

His firm stance had him thrusting easily into her, battering her with quick, strong jabs each one feeling more divine than the last. Her passion mounted fast and hard and ended far more quickly than she would have liked, but more satisfying than she ever would have imagined. Her husband’s rumbling groan brought a smile to her face. He was near finished, she could tell, then suddenly, without warning, she sparked to life again.

“OH!” she cried out.

Saber smiled, then whispered, “Join me.”

He kept his eyes on hers and his intense desire fueled her passion to the point she thought her body would surely explode.

“Saber!” she cried with a shaky breath.

“Hold tight,” he ordered and squeezed her bottom as he thrust rapidly into her.

Elysia screamed out his name and kept tight hold of her husband as pleasure exploded with an intensity that sent shudder after shudder throughout her body. He joined her, his own powerful shout and forceful shudder bringing a satisfying smile to her face.

Saber remained inside her, not ready or willing to leave her just yet. Sparks of pleasure lingered and he wanted to savor each one. He often lingered in her after making love. She was warm and snug like a loving hug that he never wanted to let go of.

He suddenly recalled the bang he heard of her head hitting the door and he drew his head back from where it rested next to her cheek. “Your head?”

His striking green eyes showed concern, but it was the passion that lingered there, small flares shooting up now and again that she loved seeing the most.

“A slight bump, no more,” she assured with a soft smile.

He rested his brow to hers and whispered, “I couldn’t wait. I missed you.”

“I missed you and I’m glad you didn’t wait,” she said, hearing worry in his voice that she may not have liked the quick roughness of their coupling.

He kissed her gently and looked like he was about to say something and stopped, then kissed her gently once again, before whispering, “I will be a good husband.”

She laughed softly. “You are more than a good husband. You are a superior husband.”

He chuckled. “Am I now?”

“Far superior,” she said.

The smile his chuckle had left faded. “If only that were true.”

“It is true,” she insisted. “Never doubt my word, for I only speak the truth to you.”

He eased back away from her and lowered her feet to the floor, wishing he could do the same—speak the truth.

“A storm approaches,” he said.

“Go and see to the animals. I will see to supper,” she said and hugged him tight before stepping away from him.

He opened the door, turned to her, appearing as if he was about to say something, then turned without a word and left, shutting the door behind him.

Something was on his mind, but she would not press him on it. He would tell her when he was ready. Besides, she felt far too blissful to worry about anything at the moment. With a generous smile, she got busy fixing supper.”

* * *

Saber grabbedhis shirt off the fence post and slipped it on, his thoughts troubling him. He hurried to see to the animals getting them sheltered before the rain hit, the dark gray clouds promising a heavy downpour.

He felt someone near before he heard the footfalls and he turned, not surprised to once again see Finch.

“There’s no more time,” Finch said.

Saber had dreaded this day, had thought of ways to avoid it, but knew there was no stopping it.

“It grows worse and many will die if you don’t do what’s necessary,” Finch said.

Saber looked away for a moment, then turned back and nodded.

* * *

Elysia laidin her husband’s arms, a strange feeling settling in her. They had just finished coupling, a long and lingering coupling, satisfying her not only once but bringing her to climax again before he climaxed at all. Now, though, lying here beside him she got an uneasy feeling. It almost felt as if he had coupled with her—no, he had made love, it felt like love—to her for the last time. The thought upset her and a chill shivered her.

Saber reached down and pulled the blanket over them.

She wanted to ask him what was wrong. She sensed—far too strongly—that something was amiss. But she feared what he might say.

Saber spoke suddenly. “I love you, Elysia.”

She raised her head off his chest, shocked, but happy beyond measure to hear him say that. She didn’t hesitate to let him know she felt the same. “I love you as well, Saber—always.”

“Never stop,” he said abruptly.

“Loving you?”

“Aye, loving me.”

“Always, Saber,” she said, relieved that what troubled him was his fear that she would one day stop loving him. “I promise that I will always love you. Nothing will ever change that.”

No more was said, no more needed to be said. She fell asleep more content than she had ever been.

She woke the next morning to his hands gently exploring her and she smiled, arching her body when his mouth went to tease her nipple. Making love felt all the more pleasurable knowing that he loved her. She ran her fingers through his hair, gripping it and arching even more in anticipation of where his exploring hand would settle.

A sudden pounding at the door had them both bolting up.

“It’s Rory. You’re needed, Elysia. Bram has returned badly wounded and there are other wounded as well.”

“I’ll be right there,” she shouted out.

“I will wait,” Rory called out.

Saber got out of bed, helping her out along with him. They both dressed quickly and Elysia hurried her long hair up on her head, securing it with two combs. Saber waited at the door with her cloak and when he slipped it around her, he took strong hold of her shoulders and kissed her with such force, it felt as if he branded her.

He opened the door and scooped her healing basket up to hand to her before she could say anything and hurried her out.

As soon as she entered the village she could feel the change. Fear had taken hold. Women wept and men gathered weapons.

The Clan Loudon was going to battle.

Saber followed her into the keep and she stopped abruptly seeing Bram laid out on a table and four other men sitting on benches, with wounds to the head and arms and blood spotting their garments. She gave each man a cursory glance as she passed each one and with their wounds not appearing life threatening, she hurried to Bram.

Lendra stood beside him, holding his hand and Bram gripped it as if fearful of letting go.

“I’m here to help you, Elysia,” Lendra said, looking at her.

Bram turned his head slowly to Elysia. Gone was the teasing, confidence that was always there in his eyes. Now they pleaded with her, begged her to help him, begged her not to let him die.

She rested a gentle hand to his brow. “Let’s get you healed, Bram.”

His eyes shut for a moment and his body went limp with relief and when he opened his eyes again, there was hope in them.

Lendra pulled back the blanket that covered Bram to his neck and Elysia kept herself from gasping. The garments covering his chest were soaked with blood. The one thing that Bliss had taught her was to stop the bleeding, for too much blood loss meant certain death.

Fear grabbed at her chest, squeezing tightly. She was no healer. How could she do this?

Elysia went to turn her head and caught Lendra’s eyes. Fear filled them and pleading as well, pleading for Elysia to save Bram.

She felt a strong hand on her shoulder and her husband’s voice whispered in her ear, “You can do this, wife.” She turned her head and saw the confidence in his eyes that she didn’t feel and it gave her strength. With a nod, he left her side.

Elysia whipped off her cloak, dropped it on the bench at the table next to where Bram laid and placed her healing basket on top of the table. Then she started rolling up her sleeves. “I need a clean apron, lots of clean cloths, and buckets of warm water.”

One look at the wound to his chest told her it would have to be stitched if he even had a chance to survive. Elysia didn’t want to think of that and Bliss had warned her that doubt was the healer’s enemy. She pushed all doubt aside and went to work.

She was intently focused on what she needed to do and didn’t see her husband walk off with Chieftain Emory. It wasn’t until hours later, after she had seen to the other men, none of their wounds severe, and had Bram moved to his cottage where Lendra insisted on staying to keep watch over him, that she finally took a breath, praying she had done right by them all.

Lendra stepped out of Bram’s cottage and walked over to Elysia.

She knew what Lendra would ask. It was what most asked when facing uncertainty—reassurance.

“Will he survive?”

Elysia was honest. “I’m not sure yet. So much can happen when you stitch a wound, which was why Bliss tried not to if possible. Unfortunately, it was impossible not to stitch Bram’s wound. Between the stitches, his strength, good care, and strong vigilance, he has a chance, which is better than no chance at all.”

“You did good, Elysia. Bram had confidence you would heal him. He told me you wouldn’t let him die. I believe he is right.”

“We can only hope and pray,” Elysia said and cast a silent prayer to the heavens that it be so. Did Bram mention Tavish? I didn’t see him among the wounded.”

“He remains with the Clan Loudon men who fight. Bram fears there will be more wounded if Lord Fergus doesn’t get the matter in hand. Some pray that his son Odran, a ruthless warrior, returns and brings an end to the unrest.”

Elysia feared that such a brutal warrior would only cause more to die before peace was claimed. “As soon as I find my husband and speak with him, I’ll return to check on Bram. If he wakes while I’m gone, give him the brew I fixed.”

Lendra appeared hesitant to speak.

“What is it, Lendra?” Elysia asked, anxious as to what the woman might say.

Lendra hesitated only a moment longer. “Saber isn’t here. He’s gone. He went to fight.”