He emptied his stomach. In between heaves, he muttered, “Ye need no’ stay, lass. I can die on me own.”
Smoky stared up at him each time he started a fresh round of heaving.
“How many others?” she asked.
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, spat into the grass, and said, “I’ve got to get an ale.”
“No!”
“What?” He stared up at her, his eyes rimmed with dark circles, his skin ashen.
“No ale. That could be what caused your sickness.”
She helped him to his feet, scooped the puppy up, and followed him to the keep, glancing around to see how the other men fared.
The sky turned gray and big fat drops of rain plopped onto the broad leaves on the tree Brann had paused to lean on. He waved his hand toward the door. “Go. Get ahead of the rain. I’ll be along in a moment.”
Food poisoning of some sort must have done this. The only way so many people would get sick simultaneously was if they’d ingested the same thing around the same time. It had to be something from dinner. The problem made Allie’s mind feel like it would explode. It would be difficult to determine the cause in a world with no refrigerators. But she knew where to start—the kitchens.
She opened the door, surprised to see Cook hard at work in the back. Cook handed her a bowl of porridge, steaming and full, and she shifted Smoky beneath her arm so she could take it. “Oh, thank you. Cook, you aren’t sick?”
“Nay, but nearly all the guards are. I’d stay away so ye dinnae catch the heaving from them. I told them they had to keep out.”
Her mind rushed through everything she knew of microbiology, but she could only think of one way to address the problem.
“Cook, would you boil the water the guards will be drinking today? Make sure there’s a huge pot of boiled water for them to drink.”
“Boiled water? Who wishes to burn their mouths on boiled water? Are ye daft, lass?”
“No, you don’t understand.” Sometimes, it frustrated her too much to try communicating in the medieval form of Scots, but it was important for her to focus today. She had to make sure they comprehended her instructions. She’d teach them a few things about hygiene, including the importance of washing hands and boiling water. On the other hand, maybe she’d just tell them what to do and not try to explain why. Other than Brann, no one would ever believe her story about microbes.
“Clearly no’. I’ll no’ be killing our men.” Cook shook her head, her indignation obvious.
“No. You need to boil the water for at least five minutes. Then you can cool some for drinking, while the rest can be used for cooking. It’s the only way to get the heaving to stop. We don’t know what has caused this outbreak, but we need to get everyone hydrated, and the safest way would be for them to drink water that’s had all the germs killed.”
The door opened and Brann stood there, looking exhausted.
Cook glanced at him. “Chief, ye look awful, but yer woman is talking nonsense. I dinnae know of what she speaks.”
Brann looked from Cook to Allie. “What’s so confusing?”
“I asked her to boil the water before everyone drinks it. It’s hard to explain, but it’s safer. So many of you are sick and you need fluids. You’re less likely to get sick from it if it’s been boiled first then cooled.”
“Ye want Cook to boil just water? When ‘tis fresh from the well or the streams?”
“Yes. You all need to drink water, and we can’t risk it being inf…dirty. Getting you sicker. Please?”
Brann began to turn green and quickly said to Cook, “Just do as she asks. Please.” He ran out the door without a backward glance.
She tried one more time. “Please, Cook? It’s really important. If you’d like, I’ll boil it. But so many of the men are sick.”
Cook shook her head and motioned her out the door. “Take care of our chief. I’ll do as ye ask.”
She glanced at the bowl of porridge in her hand, wondering if she should risk eating it. “Cook? Did Brann have porridge?”
“Nay. He was heaving before he had the chance to eat. ‘Tis why I have so much still in the pot. Nae one is eating.”
She sighed as she filled a bowl of milk for Smoky. Good, the porridge should be safe, and it was one of the most palatable foods in medieval times. She made her way back into the empty great hall. Sighing, she set the porridge down and squeezed Smoky. “Besides, porridge has been cooked. It should be safe.”
Then she held the little dog’s face up close to hers. “What do I do? Stay or go?”
She knew in her heart she’d never be able to leave so many sick individuals. Her trip home would have to be postponed a few days.
***
Two days later, Brann strode into the hall and made haste to the table where Allison sat, followed by Angus and Hamish, one of his best guards. They needed to strategize after all that had transpired.
One of the few guards who’d found his way in to break his fast was talking to her, a bowl of porridge in his hand. “Are ye sure I’ll no’ start heaving agin, my lady?”
“When was the last time you heaved?” Her pet dog sat in her lap and she stroked the little dog’s coat.
Reminding him of how well she had stroked him the other night.
Forcing his thoughts back to the present, he shifted his gaze from her fetching eyes.
“Last eve. I slept the night through and me bowels…”
Allison held her hand up to stop him. “That’s all I needed to know. If the porridge is hot, you’ll be fine. Just eat it slow and stay away from the ale. Water only until tomorrow is what I would recommend. Your chief will find another cask of ale by then.”
Brann glanced at the other men in the hall. They’d all had quite a nasty bout of sickness, so he understood their hesitancy to eat. Many men had not even come to break their fast. “Allison, will ye join us in the solar? I have some questions for ye.”
She stood, settling Smoky in her crate, and cooed until the dog was nearly asleep. Why did the lass insist on torturing him? He ran his hand down his face and spun on his heel, heading toward the door.
He’d wait for her outside the solar. He’d forced himself to stay away from her because he didn’t wish to give her his sickness. No matter that she’d insisted he and the others were ill because they’d eaten something she hadn’t—he still didn’t wish to risk it. She’d promised to stay until they were all hale, so he knew he’d tempt her into one more interlude before she left.
Or so he hoped. If not, he’d be chasing her to the faerie pool.
She stopped in front of him before she entered. “Are your insides finally improving?”
“Aye,” he said, not wishing to remind himself of all his suffering. He ushered her inside and moved behind the desk. His men stood on either side of him, and Allison took the chair across from his desk. “Are ye still confident ‘twas the cask of ale?” he asked her.
“Yes. It seems the most likely culprit based on my interviews of all your clanmates. Was it tightly sealed before it was opened? That could have caused it to turn.”
“I opened it and ‘twas no different than any other, Chief,” Angus said. “But mayhap ‘twas a bit loose. Honestly, my mind is sickened and I cannae recall.” He stared at the floor, obviously embarrassed over his failings.
Hamish added, “Every man who was sickened had the ale, and the sickest drank a few goblets. We’ve been drinking the boiled water as my lady has suggested. The men have come to trust what she says.”
Brann hated to hear confirmation that the cask was the culprit. He knew it to be possible as making ale required quite a bit of care. This was a gift he’d received from Murray, who had been his friend these many years. Could the Sinclair have been right after all? Had the ale been tainted apurpose? Rubbing his hands together before he spoke, he mulled over his options.
“Angus, when ye can, find ten guards who are hale and patrol the area. I know no’ who is our enemy at present, but we must b
e prepared for an attack from anyone. I dinnae like to have so many of our men unable to fight.”
“Are ye nae going to attack them for this?” Hamish asked, clearly offended by the affront they’d all suffered.
“Nay, no’ yet. I will visit the Murray on the morrow and put this to him directly. Ye know the MacKays and the Murrays have always been strong allies. I’ll no’ believe Ewan Murray did it intentionally unless I hear him admit it with my own ears.”
“Poisoned ale is no’ reason enough?”
“Poisoned ale is reason enough, but do we know he did it intentionally? Until we know, we’ll no’ act on it.” Brann stood. “Go on yer way, and find men to help protect what’s ours, Angus. Find men that can assist ye this day, though I know ‘twill be difficult. Leave Hamish behind to handle the remaining men. We’re limited today because some did no’ heed my warning and continued to drink the ale. I’d like to speak with Allison alone.”
His men nodded and left the solar.
As soon as they were alone, he peppered her with questions. “If I take ye to Murray land, can ye tell if he’s the guilty party? Can ye tell if Murray did it alone or if one of his men did it? Can ye search his keep and find the truth?”
“No, I’m sorry, Brann. I can’t even test the ale—I’m just basing this on observation and questions posed to the victims. But I definitely think it’s a good idea to travel to Murray land. It would be worth it to see if they are sick as well.”
“Understood.” He took a deep breath before he voiced the matter that weighed most heavily on his mind, despite the possibility of an impending war. “Can I convince ye to stay until Lachie returns? He’ll be upset if he finds ye’ve left without bidding him farewell.” What he thought but did not say was that he’d be upset, too. “We lost more than two days to sickness.”
Her gaze caught his and hope flared inside him, hot and bright. Hellfire, she was one beautiful woman. He had to convince her to stay. “We have one con…one of those things left.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Are you asking me to stay to help with the poisoning or because you want me in your bed again?” She tipped her head to the side.
“Both?” Needing to be closer to her, he circled around his desk and then tugged her out of her chair. With Allison cradled in his arms, he sat on the desk and held her close. They stayed like that for a while, tucked into each other, and then he tipped her chin up and kissed her, a soft kiss meant to tell her she was more than just a woman in his bed. Not a man accustomed to speaking his feelings, he couldn’t find the words to explain how she’d caused an ache inside him he was unable to quash—how the damn thing bloomed to something larger every time she was near. He canted his head to the side instead, devouring her as though she were the sweetest of nectars.
He was not ready to lose her yet.
He ended the kiss rather abruptly because he feared it would lead to more. When she stumbled and fell limply against him, he couldn’t help but puff his chest out a bit. Had he convinced her to stay? “Just a wee bit longer? Please? I’m hoping that convinced ye that I wish for ye to stay for many reasons.”
She cuddled into his chest, tucking her head under his chin. “One more day. But I wish to travel with you to Murray land. Promise me you’ll take me, or I’ll return to the pool today.”
“Why would ye wish to go to Murray land if ye cannae determine the Murray’s guilt? ‘Tis no’ safe for a lass to be out away from her clan.”
She pushed away from him to gaze into his eyes. “Because there’s an off chance my sisters might be here, too. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. I thought originally that I was the only one who fell through the portal. But after what you told me about your parents, I’ve considered other possibilities. What if they landed somewhere else and made it to a neighboring clan just as I did? One of my sisters could be living on Murray land and another on Sinclair land. If I go, I would recognize them. Maybe it’s a long shot, but I’d never forgive myself if I went home only to find out they were still here.”
“I’ll take ye along, but ye must promise to stay near me or Angus. I’ll no’ have some bastard stealing ye to be their bride.”
“Agreed. I don’t wish to marry anyone either.”
“Aye, so we’ll go on the morrow,” he said, stepping away from the desk. His face broke into a wide grin. “But what can we do now? I think I need to be checked out by my healer.”
“Who’s your healer?” she asked, following him because he hadn’t released her hand yet.
He spun around to look at her. “Ye are my healer, lass, and I need to have ye check my body.” He led her up the stairs and toward his chamber, but stopped to whisper in her ear, “But no’ before I make ye scream my name three times.”
She pushed at his chest lightly. “You know, I didn’t care before because I was in a hurry to return, but what will your men, your serving lasses, even Jinty think of me? They must hear me in your chamber. It wouldn’t be so taboo in my time, but surely it is here. They must think I’m a whore.”
He tugged her back against him and said, “My people will do as I tell them, but I’m willing to concede to yer sensibilities.”
“Good. We’ll wait until this eve after everyone is sleeping.” She melded her body against his just the way he liked.
He chuckled. “Nay, I’ll smother yer screams. ‘Tis my only concession, lass. Ye know ye want me as much as I want ye.” He whispered the words in her ear and she whimpered as she rubbed against him.
“Lass, ye have nae willpower.” He kissed her cheek, because he quite liked her that way.
She sighed, a sound that came from her toes. “I know.”
“Please never change.”
Chapter Fourteen
Allie sighed as she snuggled against Brann’s chest, playing with the dark hair there. The man was something else in bed. “Do you know that in my time, lots of men shave their chest hair?”
“Why in blazes would they want to do that?”
She shrugged. “It’s just become the way of it. Men have to work out lifting weights to bulk up the way you are.” She traced a finger across his huge bicep. “They don’t spend their days lifting heavy swords, so they have to do it another way. Some of the younger women don’t like the hair so much. They even shave their own hair.”
“The women have chest hair?” he bellowed.
“Nay, not chest hair.” She pointed to the pubic region. “There.”
“Why the hell would they wish to do that? That would make them look like bairns.”
She shrugged her shoulders again, enjoying his honesty about her modern culture. “Makes some things easier.”
He shook his head and climbed out of her bed. “I dinnae think it should be too difficult for a man. Dinnae shave yers. ‘Tis short enough.”
She decided to drop the subject. He peeked out the small window, completely bare-assed but without an ounce of shame. Then he spun around to stare at her. “Now I’m curious. Will ye show me what else is in the bag that had the dick covers inside?”
She couldn’t help but giggle at his term for a condom. Dick Cover. She should trademark it if she ever got back.
She rolled out of bed and reached for the bag still sitting on the chest. Plopping it on the bed, she opened the bag and dropped the contents into the middle of the coverlet she’d rearranged.
“May I see the bag?” he asked as he sat down next to her. She handed it over, and he felt it between his fingers, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “What is this made of? ‘Tis quite strange.”
“Plastic. Nothing natural, but if you close that seal, it should be watertight.” She showed him the workings of the zipper-like mechanism. He opened and closed it three times before he finally set it down.
“That alone convinces me ye are from another time. We have naught like that here. What are yer other valuables? I dinnae see any gold coins.” He touched the various items, waiting for her explanation.
“Our money i
s paper.”
“What’s paper?”
She said, “Never mind. Just know that it’s more portable than gold coins. You can fold it and hide it.”
“So what is inside these containers?” He held up the pill container, shaking it lightly.
She held her hand sanitizer. “This cleans your hands if you don’t have soap and water available.”
“But I thought ye said water was piped everywhere.”
“It is, but still, you could be in a car…” She glanced up at him, realizing too late that she’d only made things more confusing.
“A car?”
“We still have horses, but a car goes way faster. It’s a bunch of metal sitting on top of four wheels. You can drive a car wherever you wish to go, but there’s no water inside.”
“Ye mean like a cart?”
“Yes! Exactly like a cart. But it’s covered so you can travel in the rain without getting wet.”
“But yer horses will get wet.”
“No horses. It’s motorized.” She stared at him. “Never mind. Let’s move on. So the condoms are gone, unfortunately, but I have some things for sicknesses.”
“Why did ye no’ give it to me? Would it have cured me of the heaves?”
“No. These are specific.” She held up the naproxen. “This is for inflammation, and this one—” she held up the amoxicillin, “—is for an infection.”
“What’s that?”
“As I tried to explain when you all got sick, there are millions of tiny creatures living around us that we can’t see. Different kinds. Some can be harmful, others are helpful. This will kill the really bad ones.”
“So why didn’t ye give it to us?” He held one pill bottle up and shook it. “These little things would kill millions of creatures?”
“Yes. Those kill bacteria. But it won’t help cure everything.”
He held up the glass vial. “And this?”
“An antibiotic. I would put this directly into your vein. It’s very strong.”
“How do ye remove the top?”
Falling for the Chieftain: A Time Travel Romance (Enchanted Falls Trilogy, Book 3) Page 9