Highlander’s Evil Side by Shona Thompson
Chapter Twenty
Beitris
Beitris crouched low to the ground. Her basket waited at the base of a tree. The cottage was only a few feet away. A soft glow seeped through the windows, displaying the fire within. From this distance, she could hear Hamish humming while he worked. After spending much of the day consoling the woman and cleaning the sweat from the boy’s body, she needed to do something. She could no longer sit idly by, listening to the boy’s painful moans and his gasps. Hamish, thankfully, sent her in search of any lemon balm surrounding the cottage. The sun was beginning to set, casting a faint shadow over the wood, making it difficult to search for the green leafy plant.
“What is it ye search for, my lady?” Ian asked while towering over her. “Perhaps I can help?”
Beitris made a face. “I fear it’s a wee difficult to distinguish. It’s a green plant, sometimes with yellow-tinged leaves.”
Beitris’s hands waded through the grass, pushing it away while searching the soil for the herbs to aid the boy’s fever. She moved slowly, careful not to step onto anything that could be used. If they were at the castle, she could find peppermint in Cook’s garden, which would help with the boy’s aching stomach and fever.
“Could this possibly be it?” asked Ian while picking some greenery from the soil.
Beitris turned towards him, a smile on her lips as she noticed him looking curiously at the plant in his hands. “Nae, that is moss.”
“Moss?” Ian asked, his eyes brightening. “Can it help with fever?”
Beitris shook her head. “Unfortunately, nae.”
Ian frowned, and she nearly chuckled at the pout on his face. She turned back to the soil, trying not to think about how late it was getting. It would be nightfall by the time she returned home, and she could only imagine Fraser’s worry. However, the guards were informed, she reminded herself. Ian also accompanied them, so it wasn’t like she acted foolishly. At least not so far.
Beitris looked around at the woods, still concerned this was a trap. The lad did indeed lie in bed, groaning and sweating with fever; however, she still suspected something or someone was watching her.
Could it be the fae watching her?she wondered.
From her research, she knew the fae watched humans yet rarely interacted with them. The possibility of Fraser’s double being a changeling was unlikely, Beitris thought. Of what she knew, the fae hardly cared for mortal politics, nor would they lower themselves to discuss wedding plans with the lady of a castle. They would most likely be concerned with the children, not the laird of a clan. And she doubted any would be so keen to side themselves with brigands. There were indeed stories of the fae falling in love with mortal maids and men, but they were simply taken without a trace. They wouldn’t dally.
Nae, this was a mortal man trying to ruin Fraser’s good name, Beitris decided. But why? Fraser was a good man. She doubted he would have a speckled past. He wasn’t a brigand, a liar, nor a cheat. Was this an act of vengeance?
She gasped, all thoughts of Fraser and his fraud leaving her as she reached for the lemon balm before her. “I found it,” she breathed, taking it gently and plucking it from the ground. She quickly rose, beaming at Ian while displaying it to him. “I found it,” she said, louder this time and promptly turning around.
Beitris rushed back inside the cottage, pushing the door open and tiptoeing inside. Hamish stood by the cauldron, stirring the water while adding different powders from his jars inside. The mother stroked her son’s brow with a damp cloth.
“I found the lemon balm, Hamish,” Beitris said while striding towards him.
“I will wait outside and guard the door,” came Ian’s voice from behind.
“Ye found it?” the mother asked, her voice shrill as she rushed towards Beitris.
“Lady Beitris, could ye please grind it for me?” Hamish asked without looking at her. “The items should be on the table.”
Beitris turned around and set herself to work. The light within the cottage was growing dim. She heard the water gurgling and bubbling behind her as she grabbed the mortar and pestle. Breaking the lemon balm into tiny pieces, she dropped them inside and began grinding, working quickly until the leaves had become similar to a paste consistency.
She offered the bowl to Hamish, watching him snatch it quickly and dump the contents into the boiling cauldron. He stirred while Beitris returned to the boy, his mother resuming her pacing while she bit at her nails.
“Mama?” the boy gasped as Beitris climbed into the cot next to him.
Beitris cradled the boy on the bed, taking the damp cloth and stroking his soaked hair. “Yer mama is near,” she whispered while she continued cleaning him.
She wrinkled her nose at the rancid smell nauseating her nose from the bucket below the bed, filled with whatever foul demon the boy had purged from within. He was young, no older than seven summers. His eyes clamped closed while his pallid face jerked back and forth. The fire heated the room, making sweat drip from Beitris’s brow. The air tasted of smoke.
“Will he live?” the woman asked. She had asked the question several times throughout the day. It was the only thing she said during the long hours she spent as Hamish worked brewing a tea and tending to the boy’s fever.
Hamish once more said nothing, which irritated and worried Beitris. She knew Hamish did not want to give the woman false hope, yet even she could not deny she needed to know if the boy would die by the next day. Her hands trembled as she stroked the boy’s head, wondering if she was truly helping or simply taking up space. What would Hamish’s apprentice do? Would he also spend his time holding a child on the verge of death? Or would he be outside, foraging for more herbs and chopping wood for the fire?
Beitris glanced at the door, worried at any moment the other Fraser would burst in and seize her. Her gaze turned to the small window, and her frown deepened at the shadows playing against the wood. Night had already fallen, and they still were no closer to returning to the castle.
Hamish dumped the contents from his pot into a cup and turned towards the door. “He must drink this,” he murmured.
Beitris helped the boy into a sitting position. His eyes opened, displaying glazed green. His hands shivered as he reached for the cup, grimacing as he drank the contents. After a few sips, he handed the cup back to Hamish.
“Ye must drink all of it, lad.”
The boy shook his head. “I cannot. Ye have already made me drink enough. I cannot. Please, do not—”
“If ye want to get well, ye must, lad,” Hamish insisted.
The boy shuddered in Beitris’s arms. His grip on the cup tightened, and he begrudgingly brought it to his lips, gulping down the rest of his tea. He gagged, yet nothing came up, and Beitris released a breath she had been holding when the boy relaxed in her arms.
Hamish seized the cup and returned to his pot, finding the boy’s mother no longer pacing. She stepped towards Hamish, grabbing his arm and turning him towards her. “Please, ye must tell me now,” she pleaded. “Will he die?”
Hamish sighed, and Beitris could see he was considering his words. “I do not want to lie to ye, lass,” he said.
Tears streamed from the woman’s eyes, her lips quivering as she stared up at him. “Please, tell me.”
Hamish nodded. “Yer lad is very ill, but I believe he will live.”
The woman gasped, her body curling in on itself. She dropped to her knees and clutched at Hamish’s leine. “Thank ye,” she breathed. “Thank ye for yer kindness. I do not know what I would have done.”
“But, he could still worsen,” Hamish said quickly. “He still has the fever. He is strong, for now, but it could worsen. I will have the guard send for my apprentice when he returns the lady to the keep.” He smiled at the woman, taking her hands and helping her up. “I will stay with ye and do everything I can to ensure he survives the night.”
“Hamish,” started Beitris while slowly easing out from under the boy. “Are ye sure? I can stay with ye. I can help.”
Hamish shook his head. “This is nae place for a lady such as yerself.”
“But I can help,” Beitris insisted.
“Aye.” Hamish smiled, tilting his head to the side while stroking his beard. “And ye have, my lady. However, yer tired. Even I can see that. And it’s getting dark. I mustn’t keep ye so long without the laird knowing yer whereabouts.”
Beitris jutted out her chin. “But I informed the guard.” She grimaced as soon as the words escaped her lips. Even she knew that was a terrible excuse, and Hamish was right, she was exhausted. She wasn’t used to being this terrified for a boy she did not know while worrying who and what would break through the cottage door.
“Ye have been a wonderful apprentice,” said Hamish while patting her shoulder. “Now, it’s time for ye to have a rest.”
Beitris glanced at the woman, meeting her bloodshot, swollen eyes filled with such joy. The woman dipped into a clumsy curtsy, nearly tripping over her own feet. “Thank ye, my lady,” she murmured. “Thank ye for yer kindness. It will never be forgotten.”
Beitris forced a smile, nodding towards the woman. “I will pray to the Heavens yer lad survives this night.”
The woman kept her head bowed while Hamish took Beitris’s arm and escorted her towards the cottage entrance.
“Ye must inform me as soon as ye return about the lad’s health,” said Beitris as Hamish opened the door for her. “I fear rest will be the last thing on my mind this night.”
Hamish nodded. “Of course, my lady. Ye will be the first one I speak with when I return.”
“My lady,” said Ian while turning to her and dipping into a curt bow. “Is everything alright? Do ye have need of me? Shall we return?”
“Ye may escort the lady home, my good sir,” said Hamish, chuckling at Ian’s earnest gaze. “And once the lady is safe within the castle walls, will ye fetch me my apprentice? I will have need of him.”
“Of course,” Ian said with a curt bow before offering Beitris his arm.
Beitris placed a hand on Ian’s arm and allowed him to guide her towards the dirt path. She glanced over her shoulder, watching Hamish twiddle his fingers in farewell. “Take care of yerself, Hamish,” she called.
“Ye, as well, my lady.”
Beitris nodded, and she faced forward, straightening her back as she looked through the shadows. Her eyes adapted to the darkness, and her grasp on Ian’s arm tightened as they walked slowly through the wood. She searched the shadows, looking for watching eyes and glimmering swords, yet there were none as she continued on the path. Her feet stepped lightly, careful not to make a sound while she listened for any snaps and rustling in the woods.
It wasn’t until they were out of the wood and she saw the castle in the distance, that she was able to release the breath she had been holding and allowed herself to relax. Soon, she would be home and in Fraser’s arms. Thinking of him, his blue eyes, his faint smile, Beitris’s step quickened, desperate to be home with her husband-to-be and excited to tell him all she had done to aid Hamish.
Ian paused at the lowered portcullis. Soldiers paused on the wall with one shouting, “Who goes there?”
“It is Ian and Lady Beitris,” Ian called to the man. “Please permit us entrance.”
“It’s Lady Beitris!” the men shouted.
Beitris frowned at the urgency in their tones as she watched the portcullis being raised. The sun was beginning to set. Torches lit the courtyard as they entered. Several guards watched her, their lips parted, their gazes filled with shock.
“Lady Beitris,” she heard them whisper.
Beitris’s frown deepened, wondering what was going on. “Where’s Laird Fraser?” she called to the soldiers leaving their barracks and approaching her.
One soldier shook his head. “He went looking for ye, my lady.”
“Aye,” said another. “He thought ye went missing.”
All breath left Beitris, and she searched the courtyard for the two soldiers she had spoken to before; however, they were nowhere to be found. No one had marks on their chins and temples. No one looked greasy. They lacked the leering dark gazes of the two she had spoken with. Her hands fisted at her side as something eerie crawled across her skin. Her message had not been received.
Was this a plan to lure Fraser out of the castle? Was he still out there, searching for her, only to fall into a trap?
