‘My mother often spoke of it in those words,’ she, Anna, said. ‘Some people were called to certain stations or places in their lives. She was called to be a healer and it would seem that I have been, too.’
‘We have a healer in the village, but he sees more to injuries. He kens little of concoctions and ways to heal other than what most ken.’
‘Then who has been treating your son?’ she asked, stepping closer to him. A breeze rustled through the clearing and Davidh inhaled an enticing scent. A soap mayhap that she used? So taken by it, he paused a bit too long and she noticed.
‘We had another, a woman, who was here for but a few months, before leaving with her husband to his village. Morag left me a goodly supply of the syrups and medicaments that Colm needs. But now Old Ranald sees to things.’
She muttered something under her breath before she nodded.
‘I will come in the morn, if that is convenient for you,’ she said.
‘Come to the gates and tell one of the guards to send to me when you do,’ Davidh said. ‘I must get back now.’
He’d spent too much time here and the sun was beginning its journey down to night. Even using the path Malcolm told him about would be treacherous come dark. And the one that went down along the falls was dangerous at any time of the day. Only fools and wee lads were stupid or proud enough to try it.
‘On the morrow, then,’ she said as he nodded and turned to leave.
‘How did you ken about that path to get up here?’ she asked.
‘I have known it for a long time. I just had no need to use it until now.’ He stopped then and faced her, for the loud rushing of the falls would make hearing his words impossible if he walked closer to them. ‘My old friend Malcolm told me of it.’
He did not know her at all, but the expression on her face alarmed him, nonetheless. ‘Mistress, are you well?’ he asked.
‘Aye,’ she said, waving him off. ‘I would prefer that no one knew of it.’ He understood that a woman living alone far from the village had reason to wish for privacy...and for safety.
‘I will share my knowledge with no one, Anna,’ he said, seeing her worry ease and her face brighten. ‘On the morrow, then.’
It took him less time to reach the bottom of the falls and the horse he’d left tied there in the shade. And, for the first time in such a long while, Davidh felt hope rising in his heart.
His son would not die.
This woman, this healer, this Anna Mackenzie, would help his son and Colm would grow up to be the man that Mara and Davidh had dreamt of at his birth.
His son would not die.
The chant was familiar to him, but now he allowed himself to believe it could be true.
* * *
Anna barely made it back inside and to the table before the tremors began. Even her teeth shook as she grabbed on to the wooden chair next to it and lowered herself down. She prayed that Iain would not return now and see her like this.
Davidh Cameron. The commander of the Cameron warriors. Counsellor to his chieftain. An influential man. A powerful man. One who could ease her path or make her life a hell.
Malcolm’s closest friend.
Memories flooded her mind then and she gasped at their strength. Malcolm’s voice as he explained about their boyish antics together. Defending their decision to tease Malcolm’s sister by putting a dead bird in her bed and the repercussions of that act. Speaking of their plans for the time when Malcolm was chieftain and Davidh would be his man. Malcolm revealed that Davidh had helped and protected him many times.
They were closer than true brothers could be.
Malcolm was gone these ten years now and Anna wondered if his friend yet thought about him. Clearly the man had married and had a son since Malcolm’s passing.
A son he’d named for his closest friend.
Funny that, for his friends had called Malcolm Mal while this man had called his son the other part—Colm.
Would he help her? Not only in meeting and gaining permission from the new chieftain to live here on Cameron lands, but also in helping her son claim his birthright? For just as Malcolm would have been chieftain, so his son should be in line to claim the high seat, as well.
Now, though, a different branch of the clan held it and this chieftain had sons who thought it theirs. Her son would present a threat to that plan.
The sound of footsteps outside drew her attention. These were Iain’s and he stepped inside the open door holding out his quarry for the day’s efforts. A rabbit. Big enough to provide several meals for them, but not so big as to infringe on the rights of The Cameron.
‘A good catch,’ she said, pushing herself up on shaking legs. ‘I will make stew.’
She knew he watched her as she took the rabbit he’d caught, killed and skinned and began preparing to cook it for supper. Anna tried to calm her nervousness, but her hands were unsteady when she lifted the heavy iron pot on to the hook that would hold it above the fire. Iain quickly came to help her. He took it from her as though it weighed less than a feather.
Her son was growing into manhood.
Her son needed to learn about the important things for the life they, he, would claim among the Camerons if her plan worked. The skills of a warrior and the knowledge of a possible heir to the chieftain and more—things she could not teach him.
But Davidh Cameron could.
While the stew simmered in the pot, she gathered together the supplies she needed to take with her to the village. Then she explained to Iain the tasks she needed him to do while she was away for the morning.
All the while, her mind turned over and over the plan she’d devised before they’d left her mother’s people. Now that Davidh Cameron was involved, she saw another way, another possibility, to get what she wanted most for her son.
It would not be easy. It would not be quick. It could be dangerous. Nay, that was not true and she would not be foolish enough to ignore the truth that she knew now.
Davidh Cameron was dangerous, for he would defend and protect his clan and his son from all who threatened them.
Even if the threat came from his closest friend’s lover and her son.
Chapter Three
The clouds gathered as she made her way along the road through Achnacarry village towards the castle. Anna lifted her woollen shawl over her head and tossed the end of it across her basket to protect the supplies she carried. If the chieftain gave his permission, she would see Davidh’s son before returning to the cottage.
There was so much work yet to be done and she’d not planned to reveal her presence until she was ready. She could almost hear the fates laughing at her for believing she would control every aspect of her endeavour. If only that boy had not ventured so close... But once he’d fallen she could not ignore him or his injury.
The sigh that escaped her then seemed to echo across the road as she continued on, not wanting to delay this meeting for even a moment more. She nodded a greeting to an old man who walked by her away from the castle. Though she passed by a number of people of all ages along the way, not many acknowledged her. She was a stranger here, for now, so it was to be expected. Would there ever be a place or time when she was not that?
Her life had consisted in segments for as long as she could remember. Her earliest years she remembered not so she would have to accept the explanation her mother had given her. Then, the years spent here, living above the falls while her mother saw to the ills and hurts of those who came to her. A smile came to her face when she thought on the next part—the months with Malcolm.
A few glorious and shining months of love and happiness and hope. Anna would live on those memories her whole life.
Then, her flight north and separation from him and the birth of their son. Iain had only two years when the news of Malcolm’s murder spread across the Highlands and clans. Her mothe
r had helped her through that desperate time—and Iain, a sunny, happy child, did, as well. His childhood years seemed to fly by and then her mother’s passing drove Anna to make her decision to return here.
To the lands and clan of her son’s father.
Anna glanced ahead and saw the guards standing on each side of the large iron gates that allowed entrance to the castle grounds and keep. Would they send for Davidh at her, a stranger’s, word? They caught sight of her and moved to block her from entering, as guards did.
‘What is your business within, mistress?’ the taller one said. His hand on his sword reminded her that she was an outsider and unknown to them.
‘Davidh Cameron said to call on him this morn. He said to send word to him of my arrival.’
The change in their expressions and the strange glint in their eyes happened and fled so quickly that Anna almost missed it. It was obvious that they misunderstood her purpose or the handsome commander’s wishes in this. Anna drew back the shawl to expose her basket, filled with various jars and containers of medicaments and such.
‘He has asked me to see to his son,’ she said.
Now sheepishness entered the men’s gazes and they nodded and stepped back to their positions on each side of the gate as one, the shorter one, called out to someone within to send word to their commander. Anna expected Davidh to come for her, but another man hastened down the path to the gates instead.
‘Come! Come,’ he called out. The guards nodded her to go so she walked through the gates, stopping when the man reached her. ‘He is expecting you, though the chieftain is too busy to speak to you just now. Come, you can wait inside.’
She had to quicken her steps to keep up with this man and she did, arriving at the doorway of the keep out of breath. But he was not done yet and led her within, down a long corridor towards a noisy chamber. As they reached the doorway there, she heard angry words being exchanged. The man took her by the arm and tugged her to a place by the wall.
‘Stay here until Davidh calls for you.’ The man nodded at the stool there and walked away before she could say aye or nay.
Anna sat as directed and then glanced about the chamber, the great hall of the keep, and sought out the only one she knew here. She heard his voice before she saw him. There he was, standing at his chieftain’s side, involved in some discussion. Well, from the raised, angry tones, it sounded more like an argument, but she was a stranger to the proceedings here and could not gauge if there was true anger or something else.
Studying the various people up on the dais, she could see that Davidh was held in high esteem, not only by his clan’s chieftain but also by those who served the laird. Several times as she watched, the chieftain asked for his counsel on the matter and others referred to that opinion in their own statements. This seemed to be about an incursion on to their lands and the question was about the actions to be taken. The discussion continued for some time, and, though not familiar with the particulars of it, it sounded as though Davidh’s judgement would prevail.
‘Enough.’
When spoken by the chieftain in a tone and loudness that all could hear, the arguing was done. She watched as the powerful man sat back against his chair and nodded. Everyone surrounding him stepped away and waited on his pronouncement. Instead of calling out orders to them, Robert Cameron spoke softly then.
‘I will make my decision by nightfall and Davidh will have your orders.’
From their stances and the manner in which they held their bodies, Anna could tell some were not pleased at all by this. Whether they wanted the chieftain to act now or whether they did not wish for Davidh to play such an integral role, she could not tell. But clearly the chieftain’s men were not in agreement with this. When the small gathering broke up, Davidh raised his head and nodded at her.
So, he knew she was there. He called not for her, but motioned a servant to his side and spoke to the woman. Anna watched as she picked up a cup and pitcher and made her way down from the dais, along the hall’s stone walls to where she sat waiting.
‘The commander said ’twill be some time, mistress,’ the woman said, holding out the cup. ‘Would you like some ale while you wait?’ Anna nodded and took the cup. As the woman filled it, she continued, ‘There is yet some porridge or bread and cheese in the kitchen if you have not broken your fast yet.’
‘Nay,’ she replied in a low voice. ‘The ale is enough for me.’ Anna nodded at the woman who curtsied as though Anna were of higher station than she was. ‘My thanks to you,’ Anna added before the woman returned to the dais and those to whom she should bow.
Anna held her basket on her lap and allowed her shawl to drop around her shoulders. Tucking her loosened hair back under her kerchief, she waited and watched the comings and goings of the mighty Cameron’s hall.
So, this was the place where Malcolm had lived.
She’d never been into the village before and certainly not the hall. Her mother had hidden her presence from the villagers and, until Malcolm had found her by accident in the woods near the falls, no one had known she existed.
This hall was grand and she could almost see him running the length of it as a lad. He would have sat on the dais next to or nigh to his father, Euan Cameron. As his son and tanist of the clan, Malcolm had been trained from birth to fight and to rule. Her breath caught then as she realised the truth of her mother’s words spoken so long ago.
His father would never have allowed their marriage—bairn to be born or not. A son of this great place would marry the daughter of another, not the penniless offspring of a healer. The tears surprised her and she wiped them away. Though it had not felt so, her mother’s actions had saved her great pain. Her mother had understood what would have happened if they’d remained.
A leman would be the only place she could claim in his life. Loved, certainly, but never to be at his side except in the dark of night or the moments of privacy they could seek out. And a son born in wedlock would supplant any place their son would have held. Anna reached up and wiped away more tears.
It was strange that this place had caused such a long-overdue realisation, but it had. Now, though, she needed to gather her wits and her control and speak to the current laird to gain a place here. So that her son could claim his place here when the truth was known to all.
‘Anna Mackenzie. The chieftain calls you now.’
That man who’d led her inside stood before her now and she glanced up to find everyone in the hall looking in her direction. So caught up in her past was she that she had missed her summons forward.
Anna stood quickly and lifted her basket on to her arm. Following the man forward, she stopped where he pointed and she curtsied to the man seated above her without looking up. She waited until the laird spoke her name, signalling her to rise.
‘My commander tells me you are a healer, Mistress Mackenzie.’
‘I am, Laird,’ she said, without raising her gaze.
‘You seem young to be such,’ The Cameron said. ‘How came you to be here in Achnacarry?’
‘My mother lived here some years ago and I wished to return.’
‘Your mother?’ Davidh asked now. She did not yet raise her eyes, but he came down the steps and stood next to her. ‘You did not say your mother lived here.’ He moved between her and his chieftain then. ‘Anna?’
‘I think I understand,’ The Cameron said from his seat. ‘Your mother was...’ She did look at him then and saw that he knew.
‘Aye, Laird. She was the one they called the Witch of Caig Falls.’ The word echoed through the rest of the hall, not because she’d said it but because those watching whispered it then. ‘Though she was only a talented healer and could cast no spells or enchantments.’
‘Surely she could not,’ The Cameron said. ‘She was a God-fearing woman. The rest were just rumours.’ He waved Davidh back; his action declared she was no threat.
Had this man, the head of the mighty Cameron clan, just defended her mother against the fanciful but very dangerous claims of being a witch? His eyes crinkled with merriment as he smiled at her. The last chieftain here would never have done such a thing, nor the one before him. Malcolm’s father had ignored the threats against her when they began. That was another reason her mother had chosen their time to flee—a woman called witch was living in a dangerous situation and it would take but one incident to spark into a life-threatening one.
‘Aye, Laird,’ she said now. ‘She had the skills of a talented healer. I only hope I can be as able as she was.’
‘Well, Old Ranald will be glad to have someone take over those duties from him. He has more skill with a saw and wooden splints than any of the finer healing talents. You will live by the falls? Davidh said the cottage there is fit for living, but remote.’ A glance at Davidh who had stepped to her side revealed his nod. ‘Will you not live here in the village?’
‘My mother’s plants yet grow near the falls. ’Tis easier to cultivate what I need there.’ Anna glanced around and wondered which of the laird’s counsellors would turn against her if she did not agree to his terms. At least one dark, narrowed gaze met hers—the man who’d escorted her in was not happy over this, over her. No need for trouble now, she thought, so, she acquiesced. ‘But, if it would please you, I can make arrangements to visit the village each day and see to any needs.’
He considered her offer seriously and for some time. She was almost on the point of giving in and moving to the village instead, but the touch of Davidh’s hand on her arm, something hidden from the view of most everyone there, forestalled her from doing that.
‘If it would serve you better to live out there, you have my permission to do so,’ The Cameron declared. ‘And my protection while you serve my clan here.’
A Healer for the Highlander Page 3