by Donna Grant
His muscles glistened in the morning sun as he brought the hammer down to nail a board. She licked her lips when she saw the muscles in his back and shoulders flex as he lifted a large board to another man.
"Nothing," she said again as Gregor went back to hammering. She was about to turn away when a loud crash stopped her.
She screamed Gregor's name when she saw the barn begin to collapse. There wasn't time for him to jump off the top of the barn by the time the frame cracked around him.
To her dismay, the frame splintered and sent Gregor plunging to the ground. She pushed past people and ran toward the barn. She needed to be with him.
With the help of Dartayous, she made it though the throng of people milling around the barn. Wounded men littered the bailey, but it was Gregor she was concerned with. And when she saw Conall lifting boards away from something, she knew it was Gregor.
Her heart beat painfully in her chest as she watched Conall and Dartayous try to reach Gregor. Tears blinded her vision as the wails of women nearly deafened her. She fell to her knees beside Gregor when Dartayous and Conall cleared the debris around him. With a shaky hand she reached toward his chest to see if he still lived.
Conall placed a finger beneath Gregor's nose. "His breathing is shallow. We must tend to him immediately."
"We'll never get him into the castle. 'Tis too far," Dartayous said.
She lifted her gaze to Conall who stared solemnly at Gregor. "There is a cottage just past the blacksmith's," he said softly.
"We don't have time to waste," she urged.
Conall's eyes jerked to hers. "Right."
Thanks to Dartayous and Conall, they managed to carry Gregor into the empty cottage.
"A widow lives here. Right now she is in the castle helping Glenna. I will have her stay there until ..."
"He will be fine," she stated while praying her words were true.
"I need to see about my other men. All you need should be inside. I will return later." With that Conall walked away.
Dartayous touched her arm. "Do you need anything?"
"A miracle," she told him.
"If you need me, just say my name. I will hear you."
"Thank you," she said and turned to enter the hut.
Once inside, she noticed Dartayous had started a fire and had began to heat water. She couldn't stop her hands from trembling as she reached out to touch Gregor.
His face, arms and chest were crusted in blood. With a bowl of water and a cloth she cleaned off the blood and hastily stopped any cuts that continued to bleed freely.
When she came to his face she realized one of the cuts that ran from his right temple down to his ear would have to be stitched.
As gently as she could she washed the area and prepared a needle and thread. She prayed he stayed unconscious as she stitched him. With every prick of the needle she expected him to jerk awake, yet amazingly he stayed asleep.
By the time she was finished, her gown clung to her skin, and she had to wipe the sweat off her face. She had just finished removing his boots when the door to the cottage opened.
"Conall just told me," Glenna said as she hurried inside. "How is he?"
"I don't know."
"Moira really needs to be here. I don't know enough to help you." She inspected Gregor's head wound. "Good stitching."
"Thank you," Fiona said.
At this point, Fiona would have welcomed Moira with open arms if she could help Gregor.
"I don't know when Moira could get down here since she is helping the other wounded men," Glenna said as she continued to look over Gregor.
"I will see to him." Fiona turned to stroke the fire, and tried to recall every bit of wisdom Helen had imparted on her regarding healing.
"I think his ribs are broken."
Fiona swallowed. "I know. I will see to it."
Glenna touched her arm. "Let me help you while I'm here. It will take forever for you to do it by yourself."
She nodded, thankful for the extra hands and Glenna's calm demeanor. "Thank you."
They both turned back to the bed. Gregor lay motionless with only his trews and boots on.
"We really need to remove his trews."
Fiona bit her lip. She didn't mind removing them, but she didn't want Glenna to see him.
"I won't look. I swear."
She turned to her sister and smiled. "I know."
Together they managed to get his boots and trews off without moving him too much. Fiona covered him as soon as the trews began to come off and ignored Glenna's small chuckle.
While Glenna went in search of bandages for his ribs, Fiona wiped down his chest again with the heated water. He hadn't moved or made a sound and it frightened her.
What if he never woke? It had happened before while she was with the MacDougal's.
"I want to get him bandaged before he wakes," Glenna said as he walked up with an armload of bandages.
Fiona looked down at Gregor's still form. "What if he doesn't?"
"Don't give up hope."
She looked at Glenna and smiled through her tears. "I have been such a fool."
"Then you can tell him when he wakes. Now, let us hurry."
While Glenna wrapped him in the bandages Fiona rolled him from side to side to aide her. With every moment that passed without him waking, her worry multiplied.
She was beside herself with unease by the time they were finished, but she refused to let Glenna know.
"I will have someone check on you in a bit. If you need anything let me know."
"I will," Fiona promised as her gaze was drawn to Gregor.
"Everything will be fine."
Fiona nodded and turned to her sister. "Will it? What if I told you the Evil One did this?"
Glenna's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"I heard his voice in my head telling me what he was going to do."
"Frang needs to know this."
"Aye," Fiona agreed. "But right now I need to concentrate on Gregor."
Glenna stared at her a long moment. "All right. I will be back as soon as I can."
Fiona twisted her hands and looked down at Gregor. She didn't like being alone and not knowing what to do.
"Food," she suddenly said. "When he wakes he is going to be hungry."
She immediately set about rummaging in the tiny cottage and found the ingredients for a simple soup. Between cutting up the vegetables and checking on Gregor, the morning flew by with the speed of a falcon.
With the soup done and waiting for Gregor to wake, Fiona took her seat by the bed. She couldn't stand to sit and watch him, she needed to touch him.
She filled another bowl with warm water and pulled the blanket down to his waist. The bandages went from his waist to just under his shoulders. He would be in much pain when he woke, she thought.
After she wrung the cloth, Fiona wiped it across his wide shoulders and down his neck. Even lying motionless, his power was evident. That power stunned her, especially because he had been so incredibly gentle with her.
She wiped his arms, careful around the cuts and scrapes he received during the fall. Too bad she didn't have anything to put on the cuts.
Then her eyes fell on the bowl of water. She did have something to help him. With her eyes tightly closed she tried to remember the words Helen had taught her and she circled her hands over the bowl.
She opened her eyes to see the water swirling on its on and nearly shouted with joy that she had remembered the correct words. With a fresh cloth she dipped it into the water and ran it over the cuts.
The water hissed as it made contact with the wounds, but before her eyes she saw them begin to heal.
When that task was done she sat back and folded her hands in her lap. There was nothing for her to do but wait. Wait and pray that he survived.
The day dragged on incredibly slow. She didn't expect to see Glenna or Conall until the next day. They had wounded of their own to tend to, but it would have been nice to have the company.
&nbs
p; She had snacked on the bread she had found on the table and had tried the soup. 'Twas awful. Even fouler than when she had attempted it at the MacDougal's. She had almost thrown it out, but figured she would eat it later. Besides, she didn't wish to waste anything.
Maybe Glenna would bring some food from the castle for Gregor to eat when he woke.
If he wakes.
She pushed aside that negative thought.
He will wake. He has to.
When the chair became too uncomfortable to stay in a moment longer, she rose and walked the cottage. It was a nice cottage, rather small, but clean. She imagined there had been children here once, their laughter filling the house with love.
She would gladly take this tiny cottage and have someone who would forever stay with her than a castle and all the riches in Scotland. She would even give up her powers as a Druid if the doubt in her heart would go away.
But 'twas a dream. She was who she was. Nothing would change that.
Her walking took her to the window. As she looked out, she watched the setting sun over the loch. It was a beautiful sight, almost as glorious as the ones she and Gregor had watched together.
If only she could go back to those days when they were alone. She might do things differently, if given the chance.
"Wishful thinking. You must stop that," she told herself.
She needed to concentrate on Gregor, and then once he was well she could continue her thinking about what she should have done. Until then, it was a waste of her time.
After the sun had set and the darkness began to close in, she shut the window and went to stir the soup. She wished she had her materials to make a tapestry. It would occupy her thoughts. If only for a little while.
It was sometime around midnight that something woke her. She sat up in the chair and looked around the cottage. It must have been her imagination she decided and turned to check on Gregor. That's when she noticed his ragged breathing.
"Nay," she cried and leaned over him. "Gregor, don't leave me. Not like this," she said as panic set in.
She wiped him down again, but nothing helped his breathing. She checked his cuts to see if any were infected, but there was nothing.
Helplessness set in like an unwanted sickness. She had never dealt with anything like this before and didn't know what to do. There wasn't time to get Glenna, nor would she leave Gregor.
But she refused to sit and watch him slowly die before her eyes. There must be something she could do. Then she recalled something Helen had taught her.
" 'Tis worth a try," she said.
She knelt by the bed and held her hands palm down above Gregor's chest. She breathed in deeply and began to concentrate on Gregor's breathing.
"Give him my strength," she whispered.
Her hands began to shake as the force of her powers took hold. "Give him my strength," she yelled.
Her eyes flew open as her breath left her. "Dartayous," she whispered before she fell to the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Dartayous jerked as if an arrow had imbedded in the chest. Fiona had called to him. "We must go," he said as he took hold of Moira's arm.
"I have work to do," she replied without looking at him.
He turned her around to face him. "Fiona needs you."
Moira searched his face before she nodded and followed him from the castle. Dartayous was to the point that he had been about to carry Moira out of the castle if she hadn't agreed.
Something dreadful must have happened to have Fiona call him. His stride was long and Moira nearly had to run to keep up with him, but his instincts told him not to tarry.
"What's happened?" Glenna asked as she and Conall caught up with them.
" 'Tis Fiona."
"Where is she?" Glenna asked as she looked around.
Dartayous didn't really have time to explain, but he knew he had to. "She called to me. She's in some kind of danger."
No more words were spoken as they hurried to the cottage. He burst through the door first and found Fiona lying on the floor beside the bed.
Moira pushed past him and ran to Fiona. She touched her and sighed. "Get her on the bed," she told Dartayous.
"What happened?" Glenna asked.
Moira checked Gregor as Dartayous laid Fiona beside him. "She gave him her strength. He was dying."
"Was?" Conall asked.
"She saved him."
Conall leaned over Fiona and peered closely at her. "But will she be all right?"
"Aye. She just needs to rest," Moira answered. She held her hand over Gregor and closed her eyes. "His ribs are broken."
Dartayous watched as she ran her hands over Gregor's chest and whispered words. She had used most of her strength this day to heal the many wounded and he knew she wouldn't last much longer. He hurried to her side and caught her as she began to fall.
"I healed them, but there will still be some soreness," she told Conall and Glenna. She stood out of Dartayous' arms and walked to the other side of the bed to Fiona.
She placed her hand on Fiona's head and leaned down to whisper in her ear. Dartayous was ever amazed with Moira and her healing ability. Some might say the greatest gift the Fae had given her was the power over wind. He would say it was her healing.
He noticed the shallow parlor of her skin and knew she needed rest. Immediately. "Are you finished?"
She nodded. "They will be fine after some rest."
Glenna hugged her. "Thank you, again. You have done much for my people this day."
"We will never be able to repay you," Conall said.
"Just give me many nieces and nephews," Moira told them. "That's payment enough."
Dartayous placed his hand on Moira's back to guide her out the door. He needed to get her to the stone circle where she could recover her strength. "I'll have Aimery send some guards," he told Conall.
"Good," Conall said. "I was just about to suggest that."
* * * *
Fiona sighed and stretched her arms above her head. Her eyes slowly opened. She was rested and her back didn't ache from sitting in the chair, which was odd. It wasn't until her hand touched the blanket that she realized she was on the bed.
She slowly sat up and looked at Gregor. His breathing was normal and his cuts looked like they were almost healed. How was this possible? She wasn't fool enough to believe she had done it.
Which left only one possibility. Moira.
Dartayous must have brought Moira she deduced, and slowly inched off the bed. She hated to say it, but she owed Moira a huge debt of thanks.
Once she had washed her face, she took her seat beside the bed. She found it impossible to keep her eyes open, and it wasn't long until she began to doze.
* * * *
"I'm tired of waiting," MacNeil said as he paced. He was the Butcher of the Highlands, yet The Shadow would have him hide in the woods like a coward.
No more. The prophecy was soon to commence, and he wanted one of those wenches taken care of now.
He drew his sword and walked toward his men, but he didn't get far.
"Halt, MacNeil."
He jerked at hearing that voice. For days he had waited for The Shadow to come. Now he came just when he was about to rally his men.
"I'm through with you," MacNeil told him, refusing to turn and look at him.
"I don't believe so. You need me, and you know it."
MacNeil whirled around to face him. "Do you think I haven't heard how you tried to kill Gregor? Yet you didn't succeed."
The Shadow lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe. Maybe not. I'm close. So very close. Are you willing to risk your life on a few days?"
MacNeil mulled over his words. "I give you three more days. After that, me and my army will take care of this ourselves."
* * * *
Fiona jerked awake just before she hit the floor. She wiped the hair out of her face and arched her back to stretch out the kinks. When she lowered her arms she noticed Gregor's eyes were open.
>
"By the saints. You are awake," she said and touched his arm.
"I would have tried to catch you, but I don't think I would have made it in time." He graced her with a hesitant smile that made her heart soar.
"How can you jest when you are injured?"
" 'Tis my wonderful charm."
She laughed and smoothed the hair from his forehead. "I'm just glad you are awake."
"How long since the accident?"
"A day, but it seems like an eternity."
He smiled again and covered her hand with his. "You took care of me?"
"Aye. Glenna and Conall had their hands full with the other wounded. You were brought here."
She became uncomfortable under his gaze. He tried to look inside her, and she couldn't blame him. After keeping him at a safe distance, she suddenly cared for him while he was injured. She would be wary, too.
"Hungry?" she asked. Anything to break the eye contact.
"As a matter of fact, aye."
She jumped up, glad for something to do. Until she noticed that all the bread was gone and the only thing left was the soup.
"I must go to the castle for food," she told him and headed to the door.
"Is that not soup I smell?" he asked, stopping her in her tracks.
Saint Francis's knobby knees.
She didn't have much of a choice now. She turned and headed to the hearth. Her gaze didn't meet his as she spooned the soup into a bowl and handed it to him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Then look at me."
With a sigh she raised her gaze as he spooned the first bite into his mouth. She tried not to wince when he swallowed as she waited for him to say how awful it was.
It wouldn't have hurt her feelings, because she knew she lacked cooking skills. 'Twas just something she had never caught on to.
"'Tis good," he said and took another bite.
She blinked back the tears because she knew he lied, but the fact that he had cared enough to tell her he liked it meant so much to her.
"You don't have to lie," she told him.
He laughed and sat the spoon down. "Why would you think I lied, lass?"
"Because I know how awful it is."
"I admit it isn't the best, but I have eaten worse."