He nodded toward the wagon. "'Tis past time we were on our way." He climbed out of the burn and slowly started walking up the bank beside Ailis.
He took a few more steps, turned and smiled sheepishly at her, then dropped like a stone at her feet.
Chapter Ten
"Gavin!" Ailis tried to catch him, but he was too heavy and fell too fast. For a moment she stared at him in shock, then knelt beside him and shook his shoulder gently. He did not respond. She called out for help as she scanned the area, but the lapping of the nearby water and a distant call of a bird were her only answers.
'Twas no one there but the two of them. She tried to sit him up, but his body would not remain upright without her holding him. Gently, she eased his head and shoulders back to the ground. If she could get him to the wagon, she could drive for help.
After several back breaking minutes of tugging on his arms without moving him, she gave up. He was too heavy. She brushed her hair back from her face wincing at the tender spots where she had been stung. Glancing down at her hands, she was grateful that the red spots were only painful and not swelling as Gavin's were. Aye, she had been stung before, and other than a day or two of discomfort, she had ne'er known any misfortune from it.
She gazed back at him. Bless the saints, his skin looked as swollen as a pregnant ewe's belly. Sweet Mary, she needed to wake him to get him to the wagon. But how?
Ailis heard a loud splash from the burn and watched as a fish jumped and splashed, sending sparkling drops of water into the air. The water droplets shimmered like a multi-colored shower of faery dust.
"Aye, I could use some faery dust just now." She shook her head at her own foolishness. "Fie. Where is my mind? Of course. Water will rouse him."
Hurrying over to the burn, she tightly cupped her hands and scooped up as much water as they would hold. She walked carefully back to where Gavin lay, and splashed the water on his face.
He shook his head slightly and slowly reached up to wipe the water away, groaning as he rubbed the scarlet patches on his skin. He opened his unswollen eye and squinted up at her. "What in blazes are you doing, woman?"
Gavin tried to get up, but appeared so dizzy, she helped him immediately. Between them, the best they could do was to pull him up part way. He leaned back on his elbows and remained still for a moment, breathing slowly. Then little by little, he sat up fully.
Ailis smiled in relief. "By the rood, you gave me a scare. Can you walk back to the wagon if I help you?"
"Lass, as much as I hate to admit it, I do not know if I can stand, much less walk up the hill to the wagon. I feel sick and light headed. Ne'er before have I felt this way after a bit of a scuffle. I did not think Murdoch hit me that hard."
"Nay, Gavin, I think you are sickening from the bummies' stings. You said you had ne'er been stung before. I fear it may worsen if we do not return to Kirkholm soon and get help. I can manage the wagon by myself, but I nay know the way back. You must get up and walk to the wagon. Please. Here, lean on me."
He nodded and slowly rose to his knees, then leaned against her to steady himself. Gradually, he pulled himself upright with her help. Together, they slowly shuffled forward up the bank of the burn.
It took many laborious minutes of half walking and half stumbling to reach the top of the small hill near the wagon. By the time they got there Gavin and Ailis were both sweating and short of breath.
He sat on the ground with his back propped against a large boulder. She sank down next to him feeling somewhat lightheaded herself after helping to support his weight and steady him on the uphill climb. She sighed wearily. "Mayhap 'tis best we rest here for a wee time to catch our breath."
"Aye, lass."
A sharp cry of a hawk in the distance roused Ailis. She opened her eyes and looked around. The sky was turning gray as low clouds drifted in, casting dark shadows over them as they sat.
Fie, she must have fallen asleep after their struggle to return to the wagon. She turned to Gavin and saw he slept deeply even though his face and neck were swollen and crimson. As much as she hated to wake him, they must be on their way before his malady became worse.
Gently, she prodded him. "Gavin, 'tis much later. Do you think you can climb in the wagon?"
"Aye lass, but you will have to bring it closer. Untie the reins from the tree and lead the horse. It will follow you and I can use this rock to help me climb."
She looked at his red, swollen face and hands then silently nodded in agreement. He had done well to walk as far as he had. She hurried over to the wagon and spoke calmly to the horse, praying it would obey her.
After freeing the reins and tugging at them for a moment, the beast plodded along behind her. Praise the saints, mayhap they would be on their way to Kirkholm soon. Once they returned, Nelli would surely have tonic and salve to ease the harm the bummies had inflicted.
She maneuvered the wagon as close to Gavin as she could and then tied the horse to another tree branch. Looking at him, it seemed impossible that he would be able to climb the short distance to the seat of the wagon in his condition. Chewing her bottom lip, she gazed worriedly at him. "Do you think you can do it now?"
His cracked and swollen lips quirked in a half smile. "Aye, lass. Has Meggie ne'er told you I have the true stubbornness born into all Scots?"
After several minutes with her help, he finally made it to the wagon seat. She hurriedly untied the reins and climbed in next to him, then reached for the reins that she had given him to hold.
He slowly shook his head. "Nay, I am not so weak that I can nay hold a wee bit of leather. I know the road. 'Twill be easier this way."
She nodded, her admiration for him growing. 'Twould be much easier for him to let her do it but it seemed that he had taken care of her from the first moment they met and he was not about to stop now.
Slowly, the wagon rolled forward bouncing and dipping in the road's ruts as they started back to Kirkholm.
Ailis peered through the darkening air as they rode. It had been several hours and they had seen naught but empty land in front of them. Soon it would be nightfall. She feared if they did not make it to Kirkholm soon, 'twould be too dark to travel. They would have to stop along the road somewhere and begin their journey come dawn.
She glanced at Gavin and bit back a cry of dismay. How long had he silently sat there gripping the reins in his swollen fingers with his whole body trembling and sweat beading on his brow? She had been so intent on watching the road for help or signs of Kirkholm that she had not noticed his declining condition.
"Gavin, let me take the reins. You are nigh falling down."
"Nay, lass. I will do it."
"Do not play your stubborn Scot with me. You know I am right." She leaned over and tried to take the reins from him but he would not release them. Seeing the grimace of pain on his face as they tugged at the leather straps, she finally let go. She did not have the heart to force them from his injured fingers.
As he continued to shiver, she slid close beside him and wrapped her shawl around them both praying they would reach Kirkholm soon.
Night fell before they traveled another league. Suddenly, the wagon wrenched to the left as it veered into a deep rut on the edge of the poor road. Gavin grimaced and pulled the reins to the right forcing the horse to pull them back onto the worn pathway.
Ailis peered through the dark helping watch their way by the dim starlight.
They traveled for a few more minutes over the bumpy road before Gavin pulled the horse to a stop in the middle of a sheltering thicket. With obvious difficulty, he tied the reins to the wagon and turned to her. "Lass, I can nay go farther just now. I will rest in the back of the wagon for a wee bit and then we will start on our way again."
He sounded over weary as his softly spoken words faded into the air. Ailis looked at him in concern.
"But surely 'tis too dark to continue. We can nay see where we are going."
He shook his head gingerly, as if it pained him. Then he
leaned over the back of the wagon seat and slowly started over it. "Och, it does not matter," he whispered. "I know the way. Just let me rest a—"
Suddenly, he pitched over the seat and tumbled into the bed of the wagon.
"Gavin!" Ailis clambered over the seat and carefully lifted his head and peered into his face.
He roused and gave her a weak smile. His voice was very faint. "Do not fash, lass. I will be fine as soon as I sleep off the poison of the bummies' stings."
With her help he stretched out in the bed of the wagon amid the many boxes and bundles of goods and went to sleep.
Ailis looked at him and shook her head with a sigh. The sight of him lying in the back of the wagon unaware of aught about him, reminded her of the many times she had helped her father to their wagon when he had had too much to drink.
From time to time after her mother died, Ailis' father had tried to drown his sorrow and loneliness in ale. Although she understood his reason, she had nay liking for it.
Be fair, girl. 'Tis nay the same. Gavin didna get this way from drinking. 'Twas from coming to your aid. 'Tis nay his fault he was felled by the bummies' venom.
Since there was naught she could do until he awoke and they started their travel again, Ailis stretched out as best she could in the crowded wagon bed. She would just take a wee nap.
Ailis woke to a chill wind blowing in her face. It must have been several hours since they had stopped. The temperature had dropped and the brisk wind caused her to shiver. Ailis leaned over to speak to Gavin but her words froze on her lips.
Sweat covered his brow and his head tossed back and forth restlessly in his sleep. His face and hands were inflamed and swollen almost beyond recognition.
She leaned over and gently touched his cheek.
Sweet Mary, he was burning with fever!
He needed help. And quickly. His fever must be cooled as swiftly as possible before he succumbed to it. By the blessed saints, he was in nay condition to continue their journey.
Carefully, she stood up beside his prone form in the wagon and peered about her. How much farther was it to Kirkholm? And in which direction? She bit her lip until she tasted blood, then sank down beside him. Without Gavin's directions, she nay knew the way. She might lose them in the forest and delay their arrival by several hours, maybe more.
Beside her, Gavin groaned in his sleep and continued to writhe about. He needed to be bathed in cool water to bring down his temperature. But where was she to get water? The closest burn she knew was one they had crossed some way back. 'Twould take the better part of an hour to get there, even if she could cajole the horse into a brisk trot and did not lose her way.
In his thrashing, Gavin's hand flopped against her leg and she gently lifted it to his side. Dear God, his skin was dry as parchment and hot as an oven stone.
She sighed. There was naught to do but get him to cool water. The rough, bouncing ride would do him nay good, but she had no choice. His fever must be lowered.
Without waiting any further, Ailis climbed back into the wagon seat and hurriedly untied the reins. Then, snapping them over the horse's back and praying she would not lose her way, she headed the animal back in the direction they had come.
Occasionally, she slapped the reins against the horse's back to keep it moving at a steady trot to the wooded area where the road had crossed a shallow burn. Her heart grew heavy with concern at every jolt and bounce of the wagon's movement over the rough road. Would the cool water be enough to make a difference and break the raging fever? By the saints, she wished she had some of Nelli's herbs!
The wind rose and tossed leaves and dirt across her path making it more difficult to discern the road. Woods, open fields and rocky crags of the Highland mountains were but dark shadows. From time to time, the clouds drifted apart allowing the moon and starlight to guide her, but 'twas only a short time before the clouds drifted together again leaving her in darkness.
She bit her lip as they rode down the long stretch of dark road. Sweet Mary, had she lost her way? Suddenly, she heard the welcome sound of briskly moving water and she slapped the reins against the horse, hurrying its pace.
As the wagon crested a small rise in the road, the wind blew the clouds from in front of the moon. The added light glistened on the burn's waters as they rippled across a low bend in the path just ahead.
Ailis sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward and eased the wagon to the edge of the road beside the burn.
Gripping the reins tightly in her hands, she climbed down from the wagon and tied them securely to a tree. She dared not risk the horse wandering off with the wagon and its precious cargo whilst she carried water from the burn.
Walking to the rear of the wagon, she searched its contents as best she could in the dim light until she found what she was looking for. The large pewter bowl she had bought for Megan would hold a goodly amount of water. Glancing at Gavin as he tossed about in his fever, she knew Megan would nay object to her using it.
Ailis hurried to the burn and filled the bowl with cold water. Slowly, so as not to spill it, she carried it back and set it down inside the end of the wagon. She climbed up beside it and pulling her cumbersome skirts out of the way, carefully nudged her way along on her knees to where Gavin lay.
He still slept fitfully. Sweat ran down his face and dripped into the neck of his shirt. Lifting the hem of her skirt, she dipped part of it into the cold water and began to bathe his face and hands.
He stirred and squinted up at her with his one good eye. His voice was hoarse and weak. "I'm verra thirsty, lass. Can you spare a wee bit of that water for a drink?"
The bowl was too large for to her hold and support his head at the same time. Ailis looked around her, but saw naught to use as a cup. Gently, she lifted his head up with one hand and held it on her lap. Then she cupped her other hand tightly, scooped up a small amount of water and cradled it to his lips.
The touch of Gavin's parched lips as he sipped from her hand seared her fingers with more than his fever. A tingling sensation welled up in her at the closeness of their bodies and the touch of their flesh together. A deep longing stirred inside her. What would it be like to have someone to care for, to share her life with?
Nay, not just someone.
Gavin.
Only Gavin.
Though he had said he was quite thirsty, he drank only a few sips of water before he turned his head away. But not before she saw the bemused look on his face.
Surely, he had not seen the longing in her eyes. But nay matter if he did. A man such as he would ne'er feel aught o'er the touch of a mere brewer's daughter. Still…
The romantic hopes she had once dreamed came flooding back as she sat alone in the dark beside him. Like all young girls, she had dreamed of a braw handsome man who would love and protect her.
Over the years, she had heard bards tell romantic lays in towns where her father sold his wares. Aye, and had she not seen the deep love and affection that her parents had shared? Their love had proved that now and then people really did marry for love, not just possessions or power.
For just a moment, Ailis allowed herself to imagine being loved by Gavin and giving her heart and body to him.
Then Gavin moaned softly, extinguishing her dream into the cold night air, back to where all such fancies belonged; to a world of twinkling stars, wishes that came true, and true love. She shook her head silently. 'Twas nay sense in wishing for a miracle that would ne'er happen.
Gently, she eased his head down, moved the large bowl of water to the foot of the wagon and pulled a bolt of heavy wool tartan from one of the goods he had purchased in Craigmuir. Bending over, she covered his shivering body, carefully tucking in the thick cloth around him.
She watched him closely for a time, then slipped her hand under the makeshift blanket and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. His pulse beat light and even beneath her touch, but still he shook as if with a chill.
Ailis gazed about the contents of the wago
n. Gavin must be kept warm, but 'twas naught else to cover him with. Silently, she lay down, curled up against his back and covered him with the tartan. He needed it far more than she. Carefully, she wrapped one arm across him and eased the other beneath his head.
Eventually his shivering ceased and he silently snuggled back into the curve of her body. She smiled as he dropped off to sleep, then leaned forward and pressed a light kiss on his temple before she lay back and closed her eyes. None would know of it, and for a time, she could dream.
The bright light and sounds of morning awoke her. For a moment she simply lay there enjoying the beauty of the new day. A dazzling clear blue sky shone above her and a slight breeze rustled the leaves in the treetops. Birds, out early to catch food for themselves and their young, chirped and twittered as they darted from tree to ground, and back again.
Drowsily, she attempted to stretch her cramped arms. As she did so, she felt the man beside her and immediately remembered the events of the day before. She looked closely at Gavin. 'Twas as she feared. The one night's rest had nay been enough to cure him of the ill effects of the bummies' venom. His face was still flushed with fever.
As if feeling her stare, he awoke and met her gaze. His right eye was still partially swollen and only opened halfway, as if leering at her. He tried to speak, but his voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. Slowly, he raised his still swollen fingers and motioned to his mouth.
She bent over him and placed her ear close to his lips.
Too late, she realized her breasts were resting against his chest. Heat washed through her and she blushed in embarrassment. She forced herself to remain just long enough to hear his words.
"Katie, love," he whispered, "bring me a cool drink." He grinned weakly. "Aye, Katie, you are a bonny lass." He patted her shoulder briefly before his hand dropped to his side and he fell back asleep.
Ailis jerked upright, shoving her hair back from her hot face. Did she mean so little he nay even remembered her name? So much for starlit dreams, girl. You would do well to remember it and nay let yourself become too fond of him. His kind are nay for you. They ne'er are.
The Talisman (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 2) Page 16