Chapter Four
Kieron hurried back to the hallhouse after rounding up a guard for the disgraced Annis. He then sent a lad to Kieron’s grandmother for some willow. He was anxious to get back to Fia, and not just to learn what she had in mind for the chief. In spite of the distraction of Annis’s interrogation, Kieron couldn’t shake the desire that had gripped him when he’d kissed her. The pull of it still shimmered through him like the northern lights, shifting and pulsing each time he thought of the taste of her, sweet like the first taste of honey mead, the warmth of her in his arms, her soft breasts pressed against his chest, the…
He had to stop lest he grab the woman and kiss her as soon as he saw her again, and that he could not do.
As soon as she had put her small, perfectly formed hand in his, he had known that she felt the same attraction he did. He grinned, well pleased with this day in spite of the discovery of Annis’s deceit.
He should have acted sooner with that one. He had known there was something uncomfortable between the lass and Fia from the way Fia dealt with her—cool and to the point—unlike the way she dealt with everyone else—with smiles and warmth—but he had thought it was just one of those tiffs women got into with each other, else why would Elena have sent the lass with them? If only he had tested her with the Winter Stone sooner…
But he hadn’t. At least now, thanks to Fia, Annis would be punished for her acts against the chief and for her lies. Pride rushed through him at the memory of Fia confronting Annis when she realized the lass put the chief’s recovery in danger. She was like a mother badger defending her kits, fierce and unafraid to stand between her patient and her assistant. Pouring the false brew on the floor had been a bit dramatic, but it made her point quite clear—she would not be giving anyone that brew.
He picked up his pace, jogging the rest of the way back to her side.
Moments later he burst into the chief’s chamber and found Fia at the brazier that was used to both heat the room and heat water for the chief’s care. She was stirring the embers under a small pot of water and had a larger bowl filled with oats ground to a fine powder ready to make a new poultice. He glanced over at the chief who was once more fitfully asleep.
“I gave him the last of the sleeping draught,” Fia said, rising and moving toward the bed. The fatigue that had seemed to weigh her down earlier was gone though he had only been away for a short while, too short for her to have even napped. “It was all I could do to ease his pain for the moment.”
“I’ve asked Margaret—one of the women who was taking care of him when we arrived—to come sit with him in a little while so you may make the brew yourself. I’ve sent for willow, too,” he said, joining her. He wanted to take her hand in his again, but he did not.
There was something about her that was different but he could not name it.
She smiled over at him. She licked her lips and swallowed as if she were nervous. With him? Nay, for she did not drop her gaze, nor did she look embarrassed or guilty about what had passed between them. Nay, her sapphire eyes fair glowed with excitement.
“That stone—” she nodded toward the pouch at his hip “—it helps you discern if someone lies or speaks the truth, does it not?”
Everything went quiet in his head. No one had ever known that about the Winter Stone, except the old woman who had given it to him and taught him its secrets. Everyone thought it was just an interesting bauble that he fiddled with when he was thinking hard, something he often dropped or allowed someone else to hold. No one else had ever figured out that he used it to test people’s intentions. But then he had suspected Fia and Lady Elena had seen the color change that day at Kilmartin Castle, and clearly Fia had seen it change in Annis’s hands. Fia was smart enough to put it all together.
“Aye, it does.” He would not lie to her, ever.
“Where did you get it?” she asked, taking his hand and pulling him away from the bedside back to the brazier. She knelt there and began mixing the poultice, glancing up at him with an air of anticipation.
Kieron settled on the floor facing her, his back to the wall, his long legs stretched out, and the door directly in his line of sight. He glanced over to see if the chief still slept. The gentle rise and fall of his breaths reassured Kieron he did. Kieron did not want anyone else to hear this, for then the stone would be of no use to him. Though as he looked at the bonny lass in front of him he realized ’twas possible it had already done its job.
“There was an auld woman who wandered into the village one day, not long after you and I first met.” He only now realized how close the two events were. “She was hungry, tired, and I offered her comfort with me and my grandmum the only family I have. Fortunately my grandmum was a generous soul and made the woman, Beira was her name, welcome. She was a strange woman—she traveled alone, though she was bent with age, and had only one good eye—but I was not afraid of her as the other lads and lasses of the clan were. She entertained us for several weeks, telling wonderful fanciful stories of the people she’d met and the places she had traveled, describing the landscapes she had traveled through as lovingly as if they were her children, as if she had created them herself. I helped her resupply her medicinal herbs—taking her into the hills for those things I could not beg from the goodwives of the village. One day, as we were searching for something…I cannot remember exactly what…we came upon a standing stone set atop a small hill. I had never seen it before. She stopped and said what I can only guess was a prayer for I did not understand the language she spoke, and as she stopped, the air turned suddenly cold and a bitter wind blew up, bringing the first snow of winter with it.
“I remember she smiled at me then and said, ‘’Tis time for me to leave now.’ I was surprised to find that she had brought her travel sack with her because I had not noticed it until that moment. ‘I would give you a gift before I go, young Kieron,’ she said, ‘but you must promise me to keep it safe until I return for it,’ and then she reached up to the top of her staff, and the stone seemed to leap from its place there into her hand. She told me how to use it and I have had it ever since.” He pulled the stone out of the pouch and held it between his thumb and forefinger as Annis had done before. “’Tis called the Winter Stone.”
“It does remind me of winter’s swirling snows,” Fia said.
“Aye, but Beira said ‘twas a tear from the Cailleach Bheur, the mother of winter, and that because it came from her own heartbreak it reflected the hearts of anyone who held it. She also told me it would bring me to my destiny.” He looked up from the stone in his hand to the woman he had never been able to forget.
“So the pink reflects the heart?”
“Aye, if someone who holds it speaks from the heart—the truth, at least as that person believes it to be—pink will flow through the white. And if that person lies—speaks against her heart—”
“It turns a murky, almost black, brown,” Fia said. “That is how you knew Annis lied.”
“It is. ’Tis also how I knew you and Elena both believed you would be able to help the chief.”
“I only believed I would do my best to help him,” she reminded him.
“Aye, but it was spoken from your heart. Elena believed you would heal him.”
“She did. She has always believed I could do whatever I put my mind to.”
“And is she usually right?”
Fia smiled. “Aye, always as far as I can remember.” She stared at the stone as if she tried to see within it. “Have you ever seen other colors?”
“Aye, but I do not ken what they mean. Biera only told me of the pink and brown. I saw blue once, a pale purple a few times. On spring days it sometimes takes on a yellow cast, like fresh butter.”
Fia clasped her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. “May I try something with it?”
Without hesitating, he handed it to her. She quickly rose and held her hand out to him again. “Come with me. I need you to watch the stone in case I cannot see all that you see.
” He gladly took her hand, relishing the feel of her palm against his as he scrambled to his feet, not needing her help, but not passing up a chance to touch her.
She led him back to the chief’s bedside and dropped his hand. She held the stone in her palm, closed her eyes and simply stood there, as if she composed herself, though for what he knew not.
When she opened her eyes, she stared down at the stone balanced on her open palm as she began to say the names of herbs, then other things he did not recognize. With each word she spoke she paused and waited as the stone filled with light—pink sometimes, brown others, and then, suddenly a beautiful green infused the white ribbons within the stone while pale pink shadows played along its edges.
“That is the one!” She beamed over at Kieron, her face alight with wonder. “Did you see it?”
“The green and pink, aye, but I do not ken what the green means. I have never seen it before.”
She held the stone out to him. “Take it. I am done.” She bounced up on her toes as he grabbed it and gave him a quick kiss. “I know how to help the chief!”
“You do?” He returned the stone to its pouch.
“Aye. I named the things I thought would help him, along with things I knew would harm him—I needed to test my theory. In every case the herbs that would harm turned the stone that sludgy, murky brown. The herbs I knew would not harm him were pale pink, but when I hit upon a salve with several different components, the green almost overwhelmed the pink. Green is the color of new life in the spring. It is the color of wellbeing, health. It is the color of your eyes, too.” She smiled shyly at him, before her grin lit up her face again. “I am sure that is what green meant in the stone, too. Not your eyes,” she said quickly, her cheeks turning a becoming pink, “wellbeing and health.”
Kieron was stunned. Never would he have thought to use the stone in this manner, nor had he thought she had noticed his eyes. He swept her up in his arms and kissed her soundly, but did not allow either of them to get carried away by the attraction and joy that drew them together. For now they must concentrate on the chief. He could only hope there would be time afterward to explore the growing attraction he knew they shared.
Two days later Kieron quietly pushed open the door to the chief’s chamber and slipped inside, anxious to see Fia. He knew his first concern should be the chief’s recovery, but in the privacy of his own thoughts, he knew he simply yearned to be in Fia’s company.
The chief was lying on his back, snoring loudly, something he hadn’t slept deeply enough to do in at least a fortnight. Fia slept, too, but not on the pallet. She sat on a chair leaning forward, her head cradled in her arms on the edge of the chief’s bed. Kieron stood for a moment, allowing himself to just look at this petite woman who as a lass had taken her place in his affections long ago. In the space of a sennight he had come to know that she still held all the attributes of the girl he had met—a sunny disposition, a quick mind, and a smile that was as warm as the sun on a summer’s day. But he had also learned that she was kind, hardworking and passionate—about her work, and when she kissed him. He could not help but grin at the memory of her kiss. He wanted more of those and if the chief was truly on the mend, then perhaps Fia might have time for Kieron to steal another one or two.
Carefully, he stepped back out into the corridor and instructed the lass who had been assigned to fetch things for Fia, to bring food for her, and broth for the chief, as well as fresh water. He crossed back to Fia and lifted her gently into his arms, then sat, cradling her in his lap. She snuggled her head under his chin and laid her hand over his heart, but did not wake.
A peacefulness Kieron had never felt drifted over him and he knew this woman, his Fia of the azure eyes and tinkling laugh, his whip-smart Fia who never failed to make him smile just to be in her company, his Fia who made his blood heat and his heart yearn—she was his destiny. Just as Beira had told him the Winter Stone would bring him to his destiny, it had. The stone was responsible for Fia coming to Kilglashan.
He did not know how long he sat there, imagining his future with Fia by his side, making a family together, growing old together as his parents never had the chance to, but when the lassie returned with a tray piled with enough food to feed three warriors after a battle, followed by a lad carrying a bucket of water, he knew ’twas time to wake her.
“Fia-love,” he said, laying a kiss upon the crown of her head. Her soft hair tickled and made him smile. “You need to eat.” She snuggled deeper into his embrace and he could not help but hold her tighter. Perhaps he could let her sleep awhile longer. “Have a bath prepared for Mistress Fia in the next chamber,” he said to the lass. “Send word when ’tis ready.”
The girl and boy left and in between the chief’s rhythmic snores, quiet once more settled in the chamber. Kieron allowed himself a little longer to enjoy the simple pleasure of having Fia in his arms. He knew, now that the chief was improving rapidly, that he must return Fia to Kilmartin soon, but not before he convinced her to wed with him. He’d had no choice but to part with her the first time they met. He’d not allow that to happen again.
Chapter Five
Fia pressed herself into the warm embrace of her bed. A familiar spicy-fresh scent wrapped around her, though she could not remember where it came from. Someone whispered her name and ran a callused hand down her arm, but she was so comfortable, so tired, she refused to rouse. Fingers twined with hers then, drawing her hand up. The softest, feather-light kiss skimmed across her knuckles, sending tendrils of desire through her sleep-fogged mind.
“Fia-love?”
The voice was close and tender, like a lover’s, in her dream. Another kiss, this time upon her forehead, just as soft. Such a lovely dream. She instinctively raised her lips to meet that kiss. Warm lips touched her own, but oh so gently.
“Fia, ’tis time to wake.” The words were whispered against her mouth, his lips never leaving hers.
His lips…
Fia opened her eyes and found herself staring into Kieron’s emerald gaze. He smiled at her and ran his palm over her cheek.
“You have slept most of the afternoon away, sweetheart. I would not wake you if ’twas not necessary, but the chief—” He nodded toward the bed and Fia gasped.
“The whole afternoon? Nay! I did not mean—“
“You did not mean what, lass?” The voice came from behind her where the MacKenzie chief was sitting up, watching them with a twinkle in his eye.
“I did not mean to shirk my duty, sir.” Fia leapt out of Kieron’s lap, suddenly aware that she did not know how she had come to be in it, but so pleased to see the chief much improved that she did not stop to question Kieron.
A quick check told her that the fever-shine was gone from his eyes—in fact, the swelling in his left eye was lessened enough that she could see both eyes now—and the grey pallor of his skin had been replaced with the beginnings of a healthy glow. And though there was still the telltale grimace when he adjusted the blanket, the pain was so much less than before that he banished it and quickly replaced it with a genuine smile.
“How are you feeling?” she asked the chief.
“I dinna feel like dying anymore.”
Fia laughed. “An improvement to be sure!”
Kieron joined her at the bedside.
“Chief,” he said, “this is Fia MacLachlan. She is responsible for your return to health.”
Fia slanted a look at Kieron and cocked her head. “I am not entirely responsible.”
“Do not let her modesty fool you, chief.” Kieron smiled at her and took her hand. “She alone figured out how to help you.”
The chief was nodding his head as he watched them. “Then she should be rewarded, for I thought for sure there was a fire burning through me from the inside out. I have been wounded in battle more than once, but never have I felt such pain. You are an angel, lass, and you have my thanks. What would you wish of me?”
Surprised, Fia looked from the chief to Kieron and shook he
r head. “Nothing,” she finally said to the chief, who looked well pleased with himself, though she knew not why. “I want for nothing, except to return to my home now that you are better, and Kieron has already promised me that.”
The chief raised his eyebrows. “I think you want for something beside your home. When you decide, tell Kieron. I am sure he’ll be able to provide your reward.” The man actually winked his good eye at Kieron. “For now,” the chief continued, “I think a celebration is in order.”
“You cannot—“
“I can sit in a chair as easily as I sit in this bed, can I not, healer-lass?”
“But—“
“But nothing. Kieron, tomorrow evening we celebrate. See that it happens, aye? And I promise,” he reached for Fia’s free hand and gave it a squeeze, “to do naught but sit and enjoy not being in pain anymore.”
Fia had never felt so at home as she did standing by the chief’s bed with Kieron’s hand in hers. Yet guilt clogged her throat so much she could barely swallow, for she could never claim she was not loved and cared for at Kilmartin. Elena and Symon had taken her in when her mother died, raised her as one of their own, but even so, in Kilmartin she was always Wee Fia the orphan, or Wee Fia Elena’s shadow. Here in Kilglashan she had no past. Here there were no expectations of who or what she was beyond her healing abilities. Here she was needed. Here she found… She looked up at Kieron, only now aware that he was still talking to the chief.
Here she’d found love.
The feelings that had grown so swiftly in her for this man stunned her and unnerved her, for she did not know how she would be able to part from him when she returned to Kilmartin. And she must return to Kilmartin soon.
Would he stay there with her? She knew he had a grandmother who was dear to him, but she did not ken what his responsibilities were towards her. She realized she really knew little of him—if his parents were alive, if he had brothers or sisters, what his position was here in Kilglashan. Was he to be Tavish’s champion when Tavish became chief? Could he leave behind this place and these people to live in Kilmartin with her? Would he?
The Winter Stone: One Legend, Three Enchanting Novellas Page 14