“I’m starting tae regret my decision of hiring Blane,” she said quietly to Maggie. “He’s the most infuriating man I’ve ever come across.”
“I havenae seen him act untoward.” The nursemaid held the reins with one hand while she pulled the flaps of her cloak closer to her. “Besides, I doubt we can find shelter in this barren stretch.”
Maggie had a point. Likely, the landscape, with its dips, valleys, and long tracts of heath, offered no refuge from the elements. But Anabell couldn’t know for sure, and neither did anyone else since Blane made no attempts to stop.
“Ye should mind your manners with the mercenary, lass,” Maggie said as she rode next to her. “Nothing guid will come if ye aggravate him. Until we get tae Middun, we’re at his mercy.”
Anabell clenched her teeth, not wanting to acknowledge the nursemaid’s advice. But of course, she knew her companion was right. If Anabell annoyed Blane too much, he might decide to abandon them in the woods. It wouldn’t bode well to have two helpless women lost in the wilderness. But still, his negative attitude was driving her mad. He pointed out all the potential hazards and warned her multiple times of being robbed or murdered. She had tried to keep the journey light and positive. Still, it was proving difficult to be carefree when his comments brought about fear and uncertainty. The way he described it, they might get ambushed at the next turn and barely escape with their lives.
Anabell tried her best to brush aside her discomfort. And it worked to some extent since she became used to the wet fabric clinging to her skin. She even tried to ignore the Highlander. However, that proved almost impossible. He rode ahead of them, and unless she veered off and traveled on her own, Blane would be forever in her view. She let out a sigh and having no other choice, she set her sights straight ahead.
But then a farmer heading in their direction caught her attention. A farmer on the road wasn’t an unusual sighting, but this man dragged an old donkey, which in turn pulled an overloaded cart of straw. Evidently, it wasn’t moving fast enough. And for every two steps, the farmer lashed the beast with his switch.
The previous frustration Anabell felt toward Blane vanished. “The poor beast,” she cried. She winced as a second blow landed across its back, causing it to bray in protest. “This cannae go on.”
Before Maggie could stop her, she urged her horse forward, riding past Blane. She halted the mount directly in front of the farmer, blocking him. He cursed out loud and yanked hard on the rope that was tied around the donkey’s neck.
“Get out of my way!” he shouted.
“I willnae be moving anywhere until ye stop hurting that poor creature,” she said, her eyes flaming. “Cannae ye see that its flesh is in tatters? What has it done tae deserve such treatment?”
“I dinnae see how this is any of your business,” he growled. “I’ll tell ye again tae move. If ye dinnae listen then I willnae be responsible for what happens next.”
Anabell looked at the worn mule. Since she was young, she was around all sorts of creatures. Although they didn’t exactly speak to her, they were still able to communicate with her. And just as she knew when the animals in the castle were happy or sad, she understood that this poor donkey was calling for help. If no one stood up for it, she was sure that the beast would suffer and possibly die.
The farmer started to move around her, and she maneuvered and blocked his path again.
“Aiya!” he shouted as he was forced to stop. The abrupt movement caused a couple of bushels of straw to drop to the wet ground. The farmer’s face turned red, and he let loose a string of curses. Running to the mess, he began to gather the straw and angrily toss them back onto the cart. When he was done, he marched over to her.
“Ye will pay for this,” he yelled, raising his switch in the air.
The man’s extreme ire caused her horse to back up, and she suddenly realized she was in jeopardy. As she tried to steady her mount, the farmer started to slash the stick at her horse. But before the farmer could find his mark, Blane jumped from his stallion and yanked the weapon from the other man’s grip.
“Ye willnae attack the lass,” Blane said, his voice calm.
His legs were spread apart, his demeanor menacing. Although his claymore was unsheathed, it appeared that he could easily draw his sword before the other man could blink. But it was something in Blane’s voice that made him freeze. The farmer lowered the switch and took a step back. In that instant, his anger dropped and was replaced by alarm.
“The lass shouldnae have gotten in my way,” he said, his voice wavering.
“I agree,” Blane said, his gaze flicked over to her before it returned to the farmer. “But I want ye tae listen tae me carefully. If I hear that ye are hurting anyone, including animals, I’m coming tae find ye. Do ye understand?”
The man swallowed and nodded. “I understand.”
“Guid, now ye will unhitch that donkey, and ye will it bring here.”
The man grew pale, although he knew better than to argue with the mercenary. Once the farmer brought over the donkey, Blane handed him some money. He then led the mule past Anabell and tied it to their own cart.
“’Tis yours now,” he said to her as he remounted his horse.
The transaction happened so quickly that Anabell was left feeling a little awed and shocked. In a matter of minutes, Blane had diffused the farmer’s wrath and negotiated a resolution that didn’t involve fighting or bloodshed.
Maggie coughed beside her, drawing her attention.
“Are ye unwell?” Anabell said.
She cast a worried look at her friend. Maggie had been sick throughout the sea voyage. She seemed better when they made it to land, but she had the sniffles and began to cough. As the day progressed, her cough sounded worse.
“Do ye think we can stop for the night?” Anabell asked, ignoring the stone-cold expression on Blane’s face.
“There’s a couple more hours of sunlight. We can travel farther.”
“That might be true, but we’re tired,” she said. “We traveled for a long time.”
“That was a choice ye made,” he said, his tone unsympathetic.
“Why are ye sae difficult?” she burst out in frustration.
“Anabell,” her nursemaid said, but her sharp tone was diminished by a deep cough.
Anabell already knew what Maggie thought, and she needed to heed the warning. It wasn’t a good idea to anger their escort. After all, he was the only person who could get them to their destination.
“Everything is fine.” She dismissed Maggie’s concerns and fell silent.
“’Twas quite foolish of ye tae confront the farmer,” Maggie frowned at her response. “If Blane wasnae here with us, that man would’ve hurt ye.”
“I’m aware of this,” she said.
As they continued along on their journey, she reflected on her foolish behavior, and guilt and remorse began to overwhelm her. She had put everyone at risk.
To make herself feel better, she turned to observe the donkey that trailed behind them. It no longer appeared scared. Certainly, it wasn’t being abused, and she decided that rescuing the animal was justified. She was also grateful that Blane chose not to comment on the extra burden they carried.
Anabell started to talk to Maggie about the mule, but her words died in her throat when she caught sight of her companion. The woman had wrapped her cloak tightly around her, but her mouth was parted, and her skin appeared feverish.
“Ye are sick,” Anabell gasped. She stopped her horse, forcing the packhorse to halt as well. “We cannae go on.”
“Nay, I’m nae sick,” Maggie denied and waved her hand weakly in the air. “Dinnae worry about me. We’re already traveling slowly due tae the donkey’s lame leg. Stopping now will only delay our travel. I ken how vital ‘tis for ye tae visit Lady Beitris.”
“Ye are important as well,” she said. “We both want tae reach Dunburn, but we cannae go farther if ye feel unwell.”
“But Lady Beitris might...�
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“I’ll pray that my grandmother still lives,” she said, cutting her short. “In the meantime, we need tae take care of your health first.
“Blane,” Anabell raised her voice. “I insist that we stop.”
“I’m actually fine tae ride —” Maggie started to say. But Anabell shot her a reproachful look, and she corrected herself. “Well, perhaps we can stop after all. My auld bones are feeling a bit achy. I’m nae as young as I used tae be.”
“We cannae continue.” If he refused to stop this time, Anabell planned to make a fuss.
“Nay,” Maggie said after seeing the stubborn glint in her eyes. “We should keep going.” But then she let out a rattling cough that betrayed her.
Blane turned his horse around and saw that they lagged behind. His eyes met hers. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Maggie is ill,” she said and explained the reason they needed to stop their travel. “She needs tae rest.”
He continued to watch Anabell with unwavering eyes, and he allowed her to finish her speech. If he refused this request, she was prepared to fight him. But something inexplicable passed between them, and after a moment, she shook the sensation aside. He made her feel many strange things, and she didn’t want to analyze them since she was scared of what she might find.
“At the pace we’re going, we’ll never make it tae Middun,” he muttered almost to himself. His eyes scanned ahead of them but came back to study the nursemaid. He then let out a sigh. “She appears tae have a fever.”
“She might have caught a chill when we crossed the ocean,” Anabell said as she recalled her companion’s condition in Caleith. “And probably traveling in the rain dinnae help matters.”
To her surprise, he nodded. “All right. We’ll find a place tae camp in the forest. I can hear the burn flowing nearby. We’ll go into the thicket and find a place by the bank.”
“Thank ye,” she said. She then turned to Maggie, eyeing her with worry. “Will ye be fine?”
“Aye. Ye ken, ‘tis nay necessary tae make such a fuss on my account.”
“That’s nonsense,” Anabell said. “I’ll hear none of that. We’ll just have ye rest sae ye can be strong enough tae travel tomorrow.”
Guided by the sound of water, Blane led them off the road and into the forest. After a while, Anabell saw a rocky overhang hidden among the vegetation. And through the break in the trees, she glimpsed the rapidly flowing burn cutting through the woods.
He guided them to a small clearing, and once he secured the animals and created a fire, he took out a pan from his supplies.
“I’ll be back shortly,” he said.
“All right,” Anabell said, barely noticing that he had gone toward the waterway. She supported Maggie and led her toward the fire.
“Ye will rest here, Maggie,” she said.
In such a short time, her nursemaid’s condition had deteriorated even more. Her skin was pale, and her expression was drawn. Her companion’s normal wiry strength was zapped from her, and she leaned heavily on Anabell. There was no way that Maggie could have gone any farther.
Blane returned a few minutes later with a pot of water. “Is she feeling any better?” he asked.
“Nay, she’s getting worse.”
He found a long, sturdy branch and braced the base of the wood with a couple of heavy rocks. Hooking the pot handle onto the other end of the branch, he hung it over the cooking fire.
“I’m cold, Anabell,” Maggie said, her teeth chattering.
“Ye will be fine,” she lied.
Anabell took off her cloak and wrapped her friend with it. The older woman gripped the extra fabric and pulled it tightly against her, although the extra layer didn’t appear to help her.
“I’ll get more twigs for the fire,” she said after she noticed that the flames in the firepit were diminishing.
She wandered around the camp area, gathering as many sticks as she could. When she returned from her task, she found Maggie curled up in a fetal position. Her friend was finally resting; however, that illusion was shattered when the nursemaid released a terrible string of coughs.
Anabell dropped the twigs and rushed over to her nursemaid. Placing a palm on the older woman’s forehead, she felt her temperature. It was burning to the touch.
“Ye need tae recover soon,” she murmured.
As she withdrew her hand, her throat constricted, and she blinked back her tears. Many times, Maggie had cared for her while she was sick. And now that their roles were reversed, she had no idea how to heal her friend. They were miles away from any town, and there was no one to offer assistance. She wished with all her heart that Maggie would regain her health, but the circumstances at the moment seemed bleak.
As the daylight began to fade, Anabell’s anxiety only grew. Maggie moaned as if she was in pain, and the frequency of her deep, barking coughs increased. Her skin remained flushed and hot, yet she complained about being chilled. It was a mistake to drag Maggie to Scotland, she realized. Obviously, if the nursemaid had stayed at home, she wouldn’t have been placed in this situation. She took Maggie’s hand and squeezed it as she was overcome with helplessness. She was struggling with her grandmother’s eventual demise. And now, there was a real possibility that she might lose her faithful friend and servant as well.
Blane walked over with a steaming cup in his hand and crouched next to her.
“She might die,” Anabell said, not looking at him. She felt the tears brimming to the surface, and blinked them away. “And ‘twould be my fault.”
He assessed Maggie for a long moment. “She isnae well, but I’ve seen worse,” he said. “Have nay fear. She’ll live.”
“I hope sae,” she whispered.
“Here,” he said, handing her the cup. “Let this cool down, and then let her drink it. It should help soothe her fever and cough.”
“What is this?” she asked.
She looked down at the hot liquid and slowly blew at the steam. Torn leaves floated to the top and swirled in the brew. She had been so busy tending to Maggie that she was unaware that Blane had prepared the concoction.
“’Tis sorrel,” he explained. He pointed to a clump of leaves that were shaped like arrow points. “When my men camp for extended campaigns, some of us inevitably get sick. We use what’s readily available tae help cure our ailments. This particular plant is guid for fevers and coughs. ‘Tis easy tae find, and it grows everywhere in these parts.”
Anabell looked at where he pointed and noticed for the first time the various types of vegetation around them. She was a little familiar with some plants and herbs in France, but she had no knowledge of those that grew in Scotland. Left on her own, she would never have discovered sorrel.
“All right, drink this, Maggie,” she said after the mixture was sufficiently cooled. She gently pulled her friend to a seated position and tipped the cup to her lips. The older woman sipped slowly, and it was after several minutes that her cough finally subsided.
***
An hour passed, and Maggie had finally fallen asleep after drinking the special brew. Anabell sat back and closed her eyes as exhaustion swept over her. She wanted to curl next to her nursemaid and sleep as well. But a small sound caught her attention, and she looked in the direction of the noise. She saw Blane returning to the camp with a fish that he had caught.
Apparently, he had gone to the burn while she was tending Maggie. Until now, she had forgotten all about food. Fortunately, Blane had taken care of that. She quietly got up from her seat and approached him.
“Ye went fishing,” she said quietly.
“Aye, I went berry picking too,” he said. “Take some.”
Anabell looked down and saw a cluster of dark berries gathered in the excess portion of his plaid.
“Thank ye,” she said. After the first bite, the juicy and slightly sharp taste of the fruit burst in her mouth. “These are verra guid,” she said, taking another berry.
“Blaeberries are quite plenti
ful around this time,” he said, taking a couple and popping them in his mouth.
She nodded and took another helping.
“Would ye like my help?” she asked, gesturing to the cleaned trout he carried on a stick.
He started to refuse her offer but then changed his mind. “Hold this while I prepare the coals,” he said.
Anabell moved aside as he knelt next to the firepit. By now, the flames had died down. He took a few twigs that she gathered earlier and broke them into even segments. In a short time, he set the pieces down, creating a makeshift cooking surface. He then took the catch from her and carefully laid the meat on the bed of sticks.
The trout slowly roasted over the coals, and the smoke and the scent of fish rose to the air. When it was ready, Blane took it off the fire and shared the meal with her. As she ate her portion, she mulled over the events of the day and began to see him differently. She acknowledged that her assessment of him was wrong. He was often rude and uncouth. He had a penchant for pointing out negative things that irritated her. Still, he was also a master at solving every problem they encountered. In the end, his skills and knowledge were a boon to her. And perhaps she should be grateful that providence had placed him on her path.
Chapter 7
“I’ll need water tae make more of the sorrel brew,” Anabell said, picking up the empty pot that sat near the firepit. “Ye might need more of the drink, and there’s enough time tae fill the pot and return before it gets dark.”
“I can get it,” Maggie said, pushing herself into a seated position. She slowly started to stand.
“Nay,” she said, laying a gentle hand on her arm and stopping her. “Ye mustnae exert yourself.”
“I cannae let ye do this,” she said weakly as she adjusted the cloak more tightly against her.
Anabell frowned when she noticed Maggie’s teeth chattering. It was a warm evening, and she shouldn’t have felt cold. She placed a palm on the nursemaid’s head, feeling her temperature as if she were a bairn. It was still warm. “Ye are unwell, and ye willnae be wandering around in this condition.”
Highland Engagement Page 5