by Kate Forsyth
‘O’ course,’ Lewen answered, feeling light-headed with the rush of instant anxiety. ‘Will it have done her any harm already?’
‘I dinna ken,’ Nina answered. ‘I do no’ ken what was in the potion. I hope no’. I think it would no’ work too quickly, they’d want her death to look natural.’
Lewen’s skin crept with horror. He hurried to Rhiannon’s room as quickly as he could, while Nina made up her emetic. The satyricorn lay in her bed, her black hair spread out all over the pillow, damp with perspiration. Her face was damp too, and flushed crimson, and he saw in dismay that her lips were badly blistered. She moaned and turned her head restlessly on her pillow, her hands clutching at the counterpane. Suddenly she jerked upright and said something in a loud, guttural voice, in a language he did not recognise. Her eyes stared straight at him but did not recognise him.
Lewen soothed her, laying her back on her pillows, then wrung out a cloth in cold water and laid it on her forehead. She flung it from her irritably. He picked it up again and gently dabbed her face and neck with it. Within seconds it was warm to the touch.
‘She’s feverish,’ he said shortly to Nina, as she came hurrying in with her hands full of bottles.
Nina felt her forehead and then her pulse. ‘Aye. I hope I willna be doing her more harm than good by giving her the stonecrop. It’s hard to ken what’s best to do. Am I maligning that nursemaid, suspecting her o’ trying to poison Rhiannon? Happen she saw the coming o’ the fever better than me.’
Rhiannon moaned and twisted in the bed, uttering more unintelligible gibberish.
‘Her mouth is blistered,’ Lewen said.
Nina looked closely, then gently slid her fingers into Rhiannon’s mouth so she could open it and inspect her tongue and gums. Rhiannon grimaced and tried instinctively to bite. Nina withdrew her fingers quickly.
‘Aye, and so are her gums. Poor lass. Here, lift her up and hold her still, Lewen. I’m going to give her the stonecrop, and then I’ll try to dab on something to ease those ulcers.’
Lewen did as he was told. Rhiannon shrieked and flung herself back when she felt his hands on her, but he spoke softly in her ear and she calmed, seeming to rouse a little.
‘Here, Rhiannon, swallow this for me, sweetling,’ Nina coaxed, holding a beaker of some thick, green liquid to her lips. Rhiannon moaned and moved her head away. Lewen shifted his grasp so he cupped the back of her head in his hand. The nape of her neck was damp and hot. He slid his other hand round to cup her chin and swiftly Nina tipped the beaker up.
Rhiannon went mad with fear, and Lewen had to hold her tightly to keep her still. He pushed her mouth shut and she swallowed instinctively, though her body twisted and flailed like a trout on the river bank. One hand caught him a glancing blow on his face, but grimly he held her firm until she had swallowed every drop. Then he relaxed his grip and tenderly laid her down. She opened her eyes, staring at him with such a look of terror that his heart lurched.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it had to be done,’ he said.
She gazed at him with a blank, wild-eyed look then suddenly began to vomit. Nina and Lewen flinched back, then hurried to support her, Lewen holding her upright while Nina thrust the bowl she had brought under the satyricorn’s face.
For almost ten minutes Rhiannon retched, until there was nothing left in her to lose. As each paroxysm passed, she would stare up at Lewen with such a heart-wrenching look of hurt and betrayal that he felt quite miserable and choked in the throat. At last the vomiting eased, and Nina was able to give her something to help her sleep, and soothe some balm onto her blistered lips and gums. Rhiannon was so exhausted by then that she barely resisted. Lewen was able to lay her down, and wash her face and hands while Nina quickly tore off the soiled counterpane and covered her up with the cover from her own bed.
‘I’ll wash this out and hang it to dry afore the fire,’ Nina said. ‘We do no’ want Dedrie to guess what we have done. Hurry and get dressed, Lewen, and make sure ye wash well. We both stink o’ vomit.’
Lewen quickly did as he was told, but even so, by the time he had cleaned himself up and dressed, Wilma was already waiting anxiously at the end of the corridor. Nina came out of her room, looking ruffled, buttoning up one sleeve as she came.
‘Are we late?’ she asked. Wilma just bit her lip, cast them a scared look, and hurried them down the stairs. She had drawn her cap down low over her forehead but, walking close behind her, Lewen could not help but notice that one ear was red and swollen as if it had been soundly boxed.
The breakfast room was another long, gloomy room with dark panelling and a massive fireplace with an ornately carved mantelpiece. No stuffed animal heads stared down from the walls, but an enormous trout was mounted above the fire and ancient fishing lines and nets were hung all around the rails, above a number of dark paintings depicting limp pheasants with wrung necks, or dead fish with palely gleaming eyes. Lewen and Nina exchanged wry glances.
Lord Malvern sat stiff-backed at the head of the table. He was pale, with deep lines graven from his nose to his mouth, and heavy pouches under his eyes. He looked like a man who had not slept well.
Lady Evaline, her companion Miss Prunella, the librarian, the harper and his son were also sitting silently in their customary places round the table. They too looked strained and tired. As Irving the seneschal bowed and led Nina and the apprentices to their places, the clock on the mantelpiece struck the hour. Without volition they all quickened their step, and Fèlice gave a nervous giggle as she collapsed into her seat. As soon as the last chime died away, the doors swung open and a procession of silent servants came in carrying covered plates and tureens. Once again meat dominated the menu. There was bacon and eggs, smoked haddock, a side of beef, a plate of kippers, a very pink ham, and eggs scrambled with salmon.
‘Just some toast and honey for me, thank ye,’ Nina said quietly. ‘Or happen some porridge, if ye have any?’
Lord Malvern nodded at Irving who bowed and jerked his head at one of the servants.
‘Oh, please, do no’ make it just for me,’ Nina said.
‘I’m sure the cook will have made porridge for the servants,’ Lord Malvern said coldly. ‘It is no trouble.’
Fèlice giggled again, then bit her lip and looked down at her plate.
‘I believe ye are anxious to deprive us o’ our company,’ the lord said to Iven, signalling to his gillie to fill his plate with beef. ‘I am sorry for it. I was hoping to persuade ye to bide a wee longer.’
‘We would love to stay, but indeed, we have been delayed far too long already,’ Iven said. ‘I was wondering what progress has been made on clearing the road?’
Lord Malvern made an expansive gesture. ‘The weather has been most inclement,’ he explained.
‘Aye, indeed, it has,’ Iven agreed. ‘But today has dawned fair, thank heavens.’
‘Aye. I have ordered some men to get to work clearing the tree but indeed, we have all suffered a lot o’ damage from the storm, the people o’ the valley as much as we here at the castle. I fear my men will be kept busy all day mending roofs and fixing fences.’
‘Aye, o’ course,’ Iven said. ‘And the weather is so chancy here in the highlands, I imagine ye must all be anxious to do what must be done afore another storm blows up.’
‘I’m so glad ye understand,’ Lord Malvern said.
‘We must no’ sit idle while all around us work, though, must we, lads?’ Iven said, turning with a grin to Lewen, Cameron and Rafferty. ‘Happen we can relieve my laird o’ having to clear the road for us? Why do we no’ walk down and have a look at this pesky tree after breakfast?’
Lord Malvern looked annoyed. ‘There is no need, I assure ye.’
‘Oh, no trouble,’ Iven assured him airily. ‘In fact, I’m sure we’d leap at the chance to stretch our legs, wouldn’t we, lads!’
‘Aye, indeed,’ they chorused.
‘But what kind o’ host would I be, allowing my guests to undertake such har
d manual labour?’
‘Och, we are no’ afraid o’ work,’ Iven said. ‘These are big, doughty lads, my laird. The exercise will do them good.’
‘But I fear it may be dangerous,’ Lord Malvern said. ‘It is a very big auld tree and it has fallen awkwardly across the road, bringing down a pile o’ rocks and mud with it. Indeed I think ye had best leave it to my men, who are experienced in such things.’
‘Och, no need to fear for us,’ Iven said cheerfully. ‘Yeomen o’ the Guard are used to turning their hands to all sorts o’ work, and Lewen here is the grandson o’ a woodcutter and probably kens more about how to move the tree than any o’ your men. We’ll take a look at it, and I promise if I think it’s dangerous, I’ll no’ lay a finger upon it.’
Lord Malvern inclined his head. ‘Very well. I thank ye for your offer o’ help. Durward, will ye accompany my guests down to examine the tree?’
The gillie-coise inclined his head. ‘Aye, my laird.’
While Iven and Lord Malvern had been talking, a footman had brought in a big tureen of porridge and had ladled some into everyone but Edithe’s bowl, the blonde girl obviously taking Lord Malvern’s jibe about it being food fit only for servants to heart. She was daintily eating toast with honey, and sipping at a cup of lukewarm tea. Everything was somewhat cold, the kitchen being a long way away from the breakfast hall.
An awkward silence fell while everyone ate. Lord Malvern did not seem aware of it, frowning down at his plate with a preoccupied air, while Lady Evaline seemed even vaguer than before. Miss Prunella cleared her throat nervously and hurried into speech.
‘Perhaps, while your husband rides out to look at this tree, ye and the lasses would like to have a turn about the garden? It is Lady Evaline’s habit to sit there most fine days, and I am sure she would enjoy some company this morning. It is so pleasant to see the sun again, is it no’?’
‘Thank ye, I am sure we would enjoy that,’ Nina replied politely.
‘I want to explore the castle,’ Roden said. ‘I want to find that room with all the toys.’
Nina’s eyes flashed up from her bowl. ‘Ye need some fresh air, my lad,’ she said. ‘Why do ye no’ go with your father to look at this tree?’
‘I could do with some help, laddie,’ Iven said solemnly.
Roden looked pleased. ‘Och, aye, that sounds like fun. Can I have a go at the saw?’
‘Maybe,’ Iven replied.
‘I’ll go and look for that boy’s room later then,’ Roden said, causing Nina to flush a little and bite her lip. Lord Malvern stared at him coldly, and Lady Evaline looked up from the scrambled eggs she was pushing round and round her plate.
‘Do ye mean my boy Rory’s room?’ she said into the silence. ‘Do ye want to play with his toys? I’ve been saving them, ye ken, for when he comes back. I do no’ think he would mind ye playing with them.’
‘Oh goody!’ Roden said.
‘I hope ye are no’ scared o’ ghosts,’ she said. ‘He’s still there, ye see, he plays there still sometimes and all the other boys too.’
‘Evaline,’ Lord Malvern said forbiddingly.
‘What, Malvern?’
‘Ye must no’ frighten the lad with your ghost stories,’ he said. ‘He’s at an impressionable age and I’m sure his mother would no’ thank ye for telling him scary tales.’
‘I like ghost stories,’ Roden said. ‘And I’m no’ scared o’ anything.’
‘No’ even ghosts?’ Lord Malvern said with such heavy meaning in his voice that Nina looked up the table at him, startled.
‘Nay,’ Roden said scornfully. ‘Ghosts canna hurt ye, Mam says.’
‘Are ye sure o’ that?’ Lord Malvern said, still staring at him from under beetling brows.
Roden looked troubled. ‘I guess so.’
‘Then ye canna have heard any true ghost stories,’ Lord Malvern said, with such a strange note in his voice that Nina looked alarmed. ‘Believe me, I could tell ye a few tales that would have ye whimpering in your bed at night and begging your mother no’ to take the candle away. I could tell ye tales that would freeze your blood in your veins –’
‘My laird!’ Nina cried.
He turned his fixed, intent gaze towards her.
‘Ye are right! He is but a lad and I would no’ thank ye for scaring him.’
Lord Malvern laughed. ‘No, that I warrant.’
Lady Evaline said kindly, ‘Ye need no’ be scared o’ Rory, laddie. He would no’ hurt ye. He was just a boy when he died, no’ much aulder than ye.’
‘How did he die?’ Roden asked curiously.
‘It was cold,’ Lady Evaline said in a whisper. ‘Och, it was so very cold and we could no’ get out …’ Tears filled her eyes.
‘Fettercairn was attacked by some very bad men,’ Lord Malvern said harshly. ‘They used foul sorceries to trick and overwhelm us, and my brother Falkner paid for it with his life, and with the life o’ his little boy. They will pay, though. Och aye, they will pay, and one day soon too!’ He laughed and Lewen felt an uncomfortable tightening of his scalp. Everyone sitting round the table was staring at the lord in fascination, all except Lady Evaline, who was nodding her head in placid agreement.
‘I do hope ye will come and see us afore ye leave,’ the harper said suddenly to Iven. ‘I did so enjoy hearing some o’ the new songs and stories last night. I wish ye had time to teach us more.’
‘Why do ye and the lassies no’ take morning tea with us in the north tower?’ Miss Prunella said just as hurriedly to Nina. ‘I’m sure Lady Evaline would like to show ye her embroidery.’
As Nina and Iven both turned to answer politely, Lord Malvern laughed on. His face was white, the dents beside his mouth very deep. ‘They say revenge is a dish best eaten cold,’ he said to Lady Evaline. ‘Well, we are used to cold comfort, aren’t we, my dear?’
She nodded her cloudy white head in sad agreement. Lord Malvern laughed, so strangely that no-one could pretend all was well. ‘Soon,’ he said. ‘Soon we shall have –’
The harper’s son said sharply, ‘My laird!’
Lord Malvern whipped round to stare at him, his face suddenly transformed with rage. ‘Ye dare interrupt me!’
‘My pardon, my laird,’ he said with lowered head.
‘Never interrupt me again,’ Lord Malvern hissed, ‘else I’ll have your entrails fed to the ravens.’
There was a long silence. Iven stood up. ‘Well, thank ye for breakfast but I hope ye’ll excuse us. The day’s running away with us and I’d like to get to work. Come on, lads!’
Lewen, Cameron and Rafferty all stood up immediately. Lord Malvern turned to stare blankly at them, almost as if he had forgotten who they were, then suddenly his brows snapped together and he cast a quick look around the room, as if realising he had revealed something he meant to keep hidden.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said. ‘An auld family joke.’
‘No’ at all,’ Iven said just as politely.
After a long, frowning moment Lord Malvern stood. Lewen noticed he moved slowly and stiffly, and kept his shoulders very still. He wondered if the back under the black velvet coat was whipped raw and bloody.
‘Durward will take ye to the fallen tree,’ he said heavily, and jerked his head at his bodyguard. Immediately the big, quiet man moved to stand at Iven’s shoulder. ‘Take care, won’t ye?’ the lord then said to Iven. ‘I would hate any accident to occur while ye were guests in my home.’
Nina threw an anxious look at her husband and stood up too, pushing her plate away from her. She had eaten very little. Iven smiled at her ‘Och, thank ye for your concern,’ he said to Lord Malvern. ‘But there is no need to worry. We’ll take very great care indeed.’
‘What about the other lad?’ Lord Malvern asked suddenly. ‘Was there no’ four o’ ye? Where is he?’
He cast a piercing look at Irving, who bowed and said expressionlessly, ‘The other young man is resting in his rooms, my laird. Apparently his cough worsened overnigh
t. I ordered a tray to be taken up to him, and to the two young ladies who were both still sleeping.’
‘Aye,’ the lord said thoughtfully. ‘The air o’ Fettercairn does seem rather unhealthy to those o’ your party, does it no’? It is very damp here, it is true, so close to the Findhorn Falls, and cold too, at nights.’ He flashed a look at Nina. ‘I understand one o’ your young charges went sleepwalking about the castle last night and has caught a bad chill. I am sorry. I do hope she will feel better soon.’
‘I’m sure she shall,’ Nina replied.
‘My nurse Dedrie will take excellent care o’ her, I assure ye. She kens better than anyone what harm the damp night air can do.’
‘Thank ye, my laird,’ Nina said flatly.
He inclined his head. ‘No’ at all.’
Nina nodded to him, glanced round at the other inhabitants of the castle, who all sat as if frozen, and then went swiftly from the room. Iven and the apprentice-witches followed, the soft-footed bodyguard close behind.
‘I will just go up and check on Rhiannon and Maisie,’ Nina said. ‘Have a care for yourself, won’t ye, Iven? And for Roden. Do no’ let him do anything reckless.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Iven said cheerfully. ‘Though he’s as much o’ a madcap as I was at his age.’
Nina smiled wanly.
‘Try to have a rest, my love,’ Iven said tenderly. ‘Ye’re all worn out. We’ll come back for lunch, and I hope to see some roses in your cheeks by then.’
‘Aye, dearling,’ Nina said submissively and turned towards the stairs. Before she had taken more than a few steps, Irving had moved smoothly ahead of her, bowing and showing the way with a fluid motion of one of those large, white hands.