The Silent Highlander by Donna Fletcher
Chapter 11
“Iknew you’d save me,” Bram said with a wicked smile and a chuckle. “I’m just too appealing to let die.”
Elysia returned the smile and teased, “Don’t make me regret it, and need I remind you that you’ve done well these past three weeks because of Lendra tending you?” Elysia nodded to the woman standing behind him.
Bram turned and winked at Lendra. “She’s an angel and I’m grateful for all she has done for me. But it’s time I let her be and get back to doing my share around here.”
Lendra smiled, a forced smile from what Elysia saw and it didn’t surprise her that Bram took no note of it. He couldn’t see beyond himself.
“You were lucky the wound wasn’t beyond repair. No amount of stitching would have saved you. I would still be careful if I were you. Give it another week before you return to—” She paused abruptly, shaking her head. She didn’t want to think of the battle that still raged between the two warring clans, the battle that took her husband away from her. “You need me no more.”
“A skilled healer is always needed,” Bram said.
His praise was his way of thanking her, but it only irritated her. “Aye, to stitch the foolish men back together who battle senselessly.”
She turned and left before Bram could say more. She stopped when only a short distance from the cottage her stomach churned from her endless worry for her husband. She’d heard nothing from him since he’d left three weeks ago, not one message. The few warriors who returned with wounds that kept them from fighting had no word of Saber to share with her. She feared the worst. She feared he had died and was left to rot somewhere with other fallen warriors or he was wounded and though his voice had healed well, he sometimes still struggled to speak. How then did he communicate with anyone? How then could he be sent home for Elysia to heal him?
“Elysia.”
She jumped at the voice behind her, though it was soft, and turned.
Lendra stood there, tears pooling in her eyes. “Thank you for what you did for Bram. I am grateful.”
“He should be more grateful to you. You helped him far more than I did. You were there day and night for him. Bram survived because of you. He owes you much.”
“I don’t want to be owed. I want to be lo—” She lifted her chin and sniffed back her tears. “Men can be fools but we women are just as foolish for loving them.” With a rough swipe of her finger, she brushed a single tear off her cheek. “I heard some news.”
“Of Saber?” Elysia asked excitedly.
Lendra shook her head. “I’m sorry no. Chieftain Emory leaves to join the fight with more men. His brother Neil remains behind to see to the safety of the clan.”
The news startled Elysia. “Is there a chance the clan is in danger?”
“No one is saying, but it’s obvious how vulnerable the clan is with so many men off fighting.”
“Is there something else, Lendra?” Elysia asked when the woman chewed on her bottom lip as if stopping herself from saying more.
“I don’t know how true it is,” Lendra whispered. “It may be just talk, foolish tongues, or wishful thinking that this battle could be brought to an end soon.” She shook her head. “But at what cost?”
A thread of fear ran through Lendra’s words that made little sense and sent a worry through Elysia. “What are you talking about, Lendra?”
Her whisper turned so low, Elysia had to step closer to hear her.
“One of the other cursed lords—the one they call the silent highlander—I heard he has gathered his troop of men together once again and has joined the battle. He and his warriors are ruthless. They spare none and claim everything for the Clan MacBridan.”
“He has his own troop of warriors? And what do you mean he claims everything?” Elysia asked, fearful of what she thought it might be.
Lendra lowered her head close to Elysia. “Odran, the silent highlander’s name is Odran, Lord Odran. I heard say that he claimed his clan’s warriors too weak and set out to create a troop of fearless warriors. He gathered them from various places, and not all good places. Some said he gathered the devil’s own and with Lord Odran knowing only victory, all believed the tale. He even felled his own brother in one of the battles, some say by accident others say out of madness.”
Elysia shivered, silently praying to protect Saber from such evil.
Lendra continued. “He claimed the land of those he conquered. He has amassed great wealth for the Clan MacBridan. And now that he has returned, it’s feared he will not stop. That he will conquer more clans and swallow them whole, forcing them to bow to his rule and submit to his demands.”
Elysia realized what Lendra feared and shook her head. “The Clan Loudon has already pledged fealty to the Clan MacBridan. We have nothing to fear from Lord Odran.”
“Unless Chieftain Emory succumbs in battle. With Chieftain’s Emory’s death, he can appoint whoever he wishes to as the new chieftain. If I hear anymore, I will let you know.” Lendra hurried back to her cottage.
Elysia walked slowly through the village, Lendra’s words spinning in her head. Would the Clan Loudon fall under such a vicious man’s rule? How would life be then? A thought came to her. She and Saber could leave when he returned. They could go to her sister Bliss and make a home there.
She shook her head. She couldn’t leave here. She couldn’t have Annis returning home to find her gone. Besides, if Annis broke the curse there would be nothing to worry about. Or had the curse so damaged Lord Odran that nothing would save him now?
Elysia entered her cottage, hung her cloak on the hook and deciding she needed a soothing brew got busy preparing one.
A knock had her going to the door and she smiled to see Brit.
“I only need a moment,” Brit said and Elysia stepped aside for her to enter.
“Join me in a brew?” Elysia asked, thinking that talking with Brit on anything but her concerns would help chase her worries if only for a short time.
“I would but I have to get back to Lenis. She naps and Kevin has only a few minutes to spare. He needs to return to the fields. I am so blessed that he was not called to battle but left to look after the fields among other things. He works endlessly but he is home and that is all that matters to me.”
“I am pleased for you, Brit,” Elysia said, wishing her husband had not been called and blaming herself that he had. If his voice had not healed enough to speak clearly, there was a good chance he would still be here with her.
“I have none of the mixture left Bliss gives to prevent a bairn and with Lenis newly born and battle raging not far off, I don’t want to take a chance of getting with child.”
“I’ll get you some,” Elysia said about to scoop a ladle full of brew into a tankard.
“I can get it,” Brit offered. “Fix your brew.” She went to a crock on one of the shelves and took it down to place on the table. She pulled a small pouch off her belt and chuckled as she proceeded to fill it with the dried, crushed leaves. “I came to Bliss just before Kevin and I wed, telling her I wasn’t ready for a bairn right away. She showed me the crock she kept it in and told me to help myself when needed.” She chuckled again. “I helped myself a lot.”
Elysia stared at the crock.
“Are you all right, Elysia? You look pale,” Brit said.
“You have a good memory to recall the right crock,” Elysia said.
Brit shook her head and smiled. “Bliss was wise. She didn’t leave it to memory. She marked the crock for me. See.” She pointed to a good-sized scratch on the side. “This way I never make a mistake. She also told me to be careful. That if I hadn’t taken it regularly and there was a chance I might be with child not to drink the brew for it would flush the bairn from me. Listen to me going on when you know all this yourself.”
Elysia watched Brit hurry to finish and return the crock to the shelf.
“I’ll visit soon with Lenis and share that brew with you,” Brit said and gave a wave before closing the door behind her.
Elysia dropped down on a chair, her hand going to rest on her stomach as she stared at the scratch on the fat crock. She’d made a mistake. She had brewed the wrong leaves to prevent herself from getting with child and now she could very well be with child. She was late with her monthly bleed, over a week. She had always been on time, not a day late—never. And now she couldn’t take the chance and drink the brew when Saber returned for fear she would lose the child she might be carrying.
How would Saber react to the news she could be with child? She didn’t need to tell him until she knew for sure. It would save her worry. Worry of what? That he would be angry with her? That she felt foolish for making such a mistake? That now was not the time for a bairn?
She wished her sisters were there. She could use Bliss’s wisdom and Annis’s protectiveness. But then she wouldn’t have this problem if Bliss had been here. Bliss would have made sure Elysia had been given the right brew.
Lord, how she missed her sisters.
She chastised herself. “What is the matter with you worrying about possibly being with child when Bliss is in such danger being wed to the cursed lord and Annis takes a dangerous chance in seeing the curse ended?”
She shook her head. Saber loved her and she loved him and she would be proud to carry his bairn. And she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t feel the same. There were far more important things to concern her.
Elysia sat sipping her brew, thinking it was time to make more salves that would help heal wounds and collect more cloths and see them cleaned so she would be prepared if more warriors returned wounded or God forbid the battle came to the Clan Loudon. She had to keep herself busy so she would not have time to dwell on things.
Once finished with her brew, she got busy and later that night, too tired for supper, she fell into bed and slept.
“Elysia! Elysia! Hurry, you’re needed!”
Elysia thought the shouts were in her dream but hearing them again upon waking, she realized the shouts hadn’t come from her dreams. Someone was frantically shouting for her.
“I’ll be right there,” she called out and hurried to dress.
She opened the door to see Kevin pacing back and forth.
“Brit? Lenis?” she asked worried one or both had taken ill.
Kevin shook his head. “Wounded. Many, many wounded.”
Elysia nodded. “Let me get what I need.”
Fear prickled her skin as she rushed to gather various items.
“Please. Please don’t let Saber be among the badly wounded,” she whispered, the prayer turning silent as she hooked a basket on her arm and grabbed her cloak, then rushed outside. She slipped her cloak on as she walked beside Kevin. The night held more than a chill—it was cold. She wrapped her cloak around her, fear gripping her ever tighter as she and Kevin kept a quick pace to the keep.
The village was alight with torches. Women ran to the keep, tears in their eyes at what they might find. Dogs barked their worry and some bairns wandered out of cottages crying.
Elysia gasped and paused when she entered the Great Hall. Wounded men covered the tables, the benches, and the floor. There was barely room to move. It overwhelmed her, but her first thought was to see if her husband was among them.
“Elysia!”
Lendra’s frantic shout had Elysia hurrying to her and taking quick glances of the wounded as she went.
“He bleeds much,” Lendra said, looking down at the young warrior on the table, blood covering much of him.
Elysia took a quick look, though knew beforehand that the young man wouldn’t make it. He’d lost too much blood and continued to do so. She shook her head at Lendra and at that moment the young man’s hand slipped from Lendra’s hand. He was gone.
“I don’t want to sound heartless, but he needs to be moved. We’ll need the space,” Elysia said, hating her own words but doing what had to be done. With a fearful heart, she asked, “Have you seen Saber among the wounded?”
“No, but I can’t be sure he’s not among them. There are so many,” Lendra said, fighting back the tears. “I will see that those who don’t make it are moved outside for family to claim.”
“Elysia! Elysia! Please help!” a man cried out.
She hurried to the table where a man writhed in pain, again her eyes rushing to scan the wounded for her husband, and was shocked to see it was Clyde.
“Help me, please. It hurts like the devil,” he managed to say.
Elysia took a quick look at his wound and recalled a similar wound that Bliss had tended. She examined the wound more closely, thinking of the color of blood Bliss had warned her to watch for. Seeing the blood showed no signs of warning, she knew what to do.
She called out to one of the servants she recognized, the young lass looking dazed and lost. “Dana, come here, I need your help.”
The lass hurried to her, appearing relieved that someone instructed her as to what to do.
“I’m going to give you leaves to brew. Clyde here will need it for the pain as will others. Brew a large batch,” Elysia instructed. “Come to me when it’s done and I’ll tell you who to give it to. Find someone to help you.”
Dana nodded and took the pouch from Elysia and rushed off.
“The wound needs to be seared,” she informed Clyde.
“Do whatever you think, Elysia, I trust you,” Clyde said and reached out for her hand.
His hand was smeared with dirt and blood, but Elysia didn’t hesitate to take tight hold of it.
“Please don’t let me die. I’m sorry I treated you the way I did, but please, Elysia, please don’t let me die,” Clyde begged.
“You’re not going to die. Once the wound is seared all will be fine. You will have pain for a while but you will live, Clyde,” Elysia assured him.
“Bless you. Bless you, Elysia,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Elysia left Clyde in the capable hands of a couple of men who had seared wounds before, promising she would be back to check on him. She hurried to quickly check each wounded man to see whose wound required immediate attention and who could wait, while offering comfort to wives, mothers, and loved ones the best she could. And, of course to see if her husband were among the wounded.
She was so busy she didn’t know that dawn broke to an overcast day, reflecting the sorrow of the clan. She did her best to save as many men as she could, but she lost five. They had been beyond her help. She fought for one warrior’s life whose wife begged her to save her husband, though he seemed beyond saving. She stitched his wounds, three of them, and had him carefully removed from the Great Hall to the couple’s cottage with precise instructions to the wife and a promise she would look in on him when she was finished here.
She’d been relieved not to find her husband there, though part of her had hoped he would be, though not with a serious wound. At least he’d be home with her, away from the horrors of battle. From the plethora of serious wounds, she surmised the battle had been a vicious one and as the whispers caught up with her, she heard the name repeated again and again—Odran. He was one of the cursed lords and he had unleashed his fury in a vicious battle. He was feared like the devil himself and Elysia began to shiver each time she heard his name whispered, never spoken aloud.
There were two warriors who she had left for last, their wounds minor compared to the others, though leaving both unable to fight. One had an arm wound that wouldn’t allow him to raise a sword and the other a leg wound that wouldn’t allow him to walk.
She heard their conversation as she approached.
“I’ve never seen anyone wield a sword or an axe like he does. I watched him take three men down with one powerful swing. He is a brutal warrior. His brother begged him to help him on the battlefield and what does he do?” The fellow shook his head. “He kills him. Drives his sword straight thought his brother’s heart. How do you surrender to such an evil man? The enemy will die fighting him rather than surrender and innocent men like us will perish with them.”
The other man spoke in a hushed whisper. “I heard he wears a metal helmet that conceals a good portion of his face, his features too ugly to look upon.”
A shiver hurried through Elysia. Bliss had said once that some men and women alike were simply born evil. Had that happened to Lord Odran? Had he been born evil? Or had the curse robbed him of his sanity, turning him evil?
She worked on the two men with a pleasant smile and asked them what she had asked every man she had worked on. “Did by chance you see my husband, Saber?”
“A big fellow who doesn’t say much?” the one man asked.
“Aye,” she said anxious that she might finally hear news of him.
The fellow shook his head. “Heard he joined the fight, but I didn’t see him.”
The other man shook his head as well. “Didn’t see him, but there were more warriors than I ever thought I’d see in my life. The field was littered with bodies, the dead ones belonging mostly to our foes.”
“It’s the Clan MacFarden’s own fault, Mayer,” the fellow accused. “They think they can lay claim to land that doesn’t belong to them. If the Clan MacBridan doesn’t stop them, they’ll keep taking more and more and the next thing you know they’ll be riding in here claiming the Clan Loudon belongs to them.”
“Aye, you’re right, Waller, and the fools are paying for it, but so are we,” Mayer said, his head drooping in sadness.
“Let me tend to your wounds and have you ready for when the food and drink are brought out for you brave men,” Elysia said.
“Aye, we could certainly use some of both, preferably a good amount of drink,” Waller said, and Mayer laughed.
It was the first laughter she had heard since entering the keep and it was a nice sound to hear. She only wished it lightened her heart. With no word of Saber, she was beginning to fear the worst. And the thought of losing her husband felt like a knife to her heart, twisting and turning until she didn’t think she could bear any more of its horrendous pain.
Once she finished seeing to the two men, she circled around to where she had started. Clyde was sound asleep in his cottage. A group of women taking turns looking in on him and others who required attention. Thurlow was the man she had stitched that she feared would not make it, but his wife Edrea had followed Elysia’s every instruction precisely and Thurlow was sleeping comfortably, his face not as pale when she had last seen him, a good sign.
Elysia gave Edrea further instructions which she listened to as intensely as she had the previous instructions. Elysia left their cottage hopeful that with Thurlow in such good hands that he would probably do well.
By the time she was done it was past mid-day and Elysia dragged herself to her cottage. Every part of her body ached and she wished Saber was there so she could fall into his strong arms and let her worries drift away.
Lendra was waiting at the cottage and Elysia feared she didn’t even have the strength to speak with her.
“Food,” Lendra said, holding up a basket. “Then you rest, for no doubt you will be needed again.”
Elysia’s eyes went wide. “More wounded have arrived?”
“Word has been received that they are on the way. They won’t arrive until after dark. Eat and sleep while you can,” Lendra said and handed the basket to her. “I will see to the needs of the wounded men.”
“Where is Bram? I haven’t seen him. I thought he would help with the wounded,” Elysia asked.
“I tripled that brew you give to help the wounded rest easy and he sleeps soundly.” She shook her head. “I had no choice. He intended to return to battle.”
Elysia sighed, her shoulders drooping with fatigue. “You no doubt saved his life. A short time with swinging a sword and his chest would have pained him too much to even lift the weapon. He would have never survived the battle.”
Lendra paled some. “Then I’m glad I did what I did. Now go eat and rest while you can.”
Elysia thanked her and once inside sat without removing her cloak. She thought she was too tired to eat but after taking the cloth off the top of the basket and seeing the assortment of food, her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she had not eaten all day.
Her eyes could barely stay focused after only taking a few nibbles and though she was still hungry, exhaustion won out and she went to the bed and dropped down on it. She still wore her cloak and, too tired to remove it, or any other garments, she pulled the blanket over her and tears tickled at her eyes as she curled into a ball to sleep.
Her heart ached for her husband. She wished he was there with her, holding her, loving her, keeping her safe.
“I miss you, Saber. Please come home to me,” she whispered as sleep took hold of her.
