MacAlister’s Hope (Kilmartin Glen)

CHAPTER NINE

Chapter Nine

Fia lay awake in the same bed she had shared with Kieron just a few hours earlier, his scent surrounding her as firmly as his arms had. As tired as she was after more than a sennight caring for the chief, Kieron’s scent in her bed kept her awake, reminding her of every caress, every whispered word they had shared there. Annis slept like a stone on a pallet across the small chamber. Oddly, she had not complained at all when Fia refused to share the bed with her.

When the sky began to lighten, Fia rose, woke Annis, and packed her things quickly, anxious to see Kieron again. As she made her way from the cottage to the stable, Kieron fell into step beside her. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and hold him one last time, but she only took his hand in hers. He threaded his finger through hers, but the look in his eyes told her he wanted much more. She squeezed his hand and simply said, “Good morn.”

Annis caught up with them at just that moment, walking beside Fia, and so they said nothing more. Tavish awaited them at the stable.

“My da wanted me to tell you again,” he said to Fia, “that you have his thanks and gratitude for taking such good care of him.” He looked down for a moment, then glanced at Kieron before looking back at Fia. “Kier was right about you. I apologize for doubting your skill. You are welcome here, you ken? Anytime. And we hope you will return here soon.” Now he glared at Annis. “But do not bring that one back with you. She is not welcome.”

“I thank you for that, the apology and the invitation to return. And I will promise, if I should return, Annis will not. I do not think Elena will allow her out of Kilmartin Castle once she learns what has passed here,” Fia said. “I am sorry for bringing her this time.”

Annis started to defend herself but Fia just glared at her. “I am glad I was of service to your father, and I do hope to return here one day.”

Kieron’s grip tightened on her hand. “Very soon,” he said. “I hope.”

Before dawn even broke, Tavish stood in the lane waving at them as Kieron led the way out of Kilglashan. Fia rode behind him, followed by Annis. Brodie brought up the rear. The silence of the group made the sound of the horses loud in her ears. The birds woke with the sun, wrapping another layer of sound around the silent travelers.

She had not even tried to speak with Kieron on the journey, for anything she wanted to say she couldn’t say in front of their traveling companions. He had been just as silent, though she caught him looking back at her more than once as they traveled. When they stopped just as dusk was descending, they all set up camp, much as they had that first night out just eight days, and a lifetime, ago—the women settling their blankets near each other with the men across the way, a fire between them. Their meal was cold meat, cheese, and bannocks, but Brodie had brought a skin of whiskey with him which they shared as they ate.

Afterward Fia excused herself into the woods, hoping Kieron might follow so they could share one last private moment. When she turned to wait for him to catch up, she discovered it was Annis who followed.

“Why do you follow me?” Fia demanded. “I do not need your company to take care of my needs.” She was beyond irritated that the woman had interfered with what was probably the last time she might ever speak with Kieron alone, the last time she might kiss him goodbye. “Leave me.”

“Leave you?” Annis tilted her head as if she examined a particularly disgusting cow patty. Her arms were crossed and she leaned back on her heels just enough to add to the effect of disgust. “You think you can tell me what to do, Wee Fia of the fairy folk? Does Kieron ken you are called that?”

“You are the only one who still calls me that—and it would not matter if he did—and aye, I do think I can tell you what to do. You were sent to be my assistant and instead you sought to discredit me. You put the MacAlister’s recovery in peril.” Fia knew her voice was growing strident and that it was her remorse over parting with Kieron, tied up with guilt that she did not want to continue at Kilmartin as she had for so long, that drove her to lash out at the irritating Annis. But in truth the woman deserved a tongue-lashing. “’Tis a good thing young Mairi shows a talent for the herb lore for I will not waste any more of my time teaching you, and I shall make sure Elena sees that you are not trained by anyone else, either.”

Annis advanced on her but Fia held her ground. Annis only stopped when they were nearly nose-to-nose. “You will not tell Elena anything except that I was an exceptional assistant to you, and that I will be a better herbalist than you one day.”

“I would never—”

“You will, or I will tell Elena and Symon exactly what their precious Fia was up to with Kieron last night.” She let the threat hang in the air between them. When Fia did not respond, Annis added, “In the cottage?” She dropped her chin a fraction and looked at Fia through half-lowered lids. “I do not think they will be happy with you when they hear that you threw yourself at him, that you gave yourself to him without benefit of marriage.

“They will not like it that you are a wanton who spread her legs for a man as soon as she was out of their sight. You will no longer be the one who can do no wrong in their eyes.”

Fia blinked, swallowed, and blinked again, trying to figure out what to say, how to fix this. She loved Kieron and he loved her. They was sure they would wed if they could, and she was sure she was not the first lass to share her bed with a lad before any vows were made.

“Why?” she finally asked. “Why would you tell them any of that?”

Now Annis tried to smile, but hatred pinched her lips into something closer to a grimace. “Why? Because you are not perfect and ’tis time they knew it. ’Tis time everyone knew it.”

“No one is perfect,” Fia said carefully. “I certainly am not.”

“Nay, you are not, and now you shall learn exactly what that feels like unless you tell Elena what I told you to say. If you do that I will keep what I ken to myself. If you do not, or if you recant your glowing praise for me and my skills, I will be forced to reveal your shameful secret.” She leaned back on her heels and crossed her arms. A sneer marred what Fia had always thought was a lovely face, but now she knew for certain it masked a dark heart. “Do we have a deal?” Annis demanded.

Fia said nothing as she tried to work through all the ramifications of Annis’s threat. If Elena and Symon discovered her—she could not call it an indiscretion, for that would diminish the love that they shared—if they discovered what had transpired between Fia and Kieron she would lose the respect of the two people who were foster parents, mentors, and friends, to her. Or she could lie to them about Annis. A heavy knot formed in her belly, making her ill at the thought of lying to them, especially when Fia knew Annis would likely put other people, sick people, in danger from the woman’s lack of care and empathy for her patients.

Finally Fia nodded, grateful that she did not hold Kieron’s Winter Stone in her hand to expose her lie. She didn’t know how she would manage to walk the line between Annis’s pair of threats—her time with Kieron exposed, or seeing Annis continuing to assist with the sick and injured—but she knew she would never lie to Elena and Symon, no matter what they might think of her actions.

“Now that was not hard to do, was it?” Annis turned abruptly and headed back to the camp leaving Fia angry, uncertain, and alone.

Fia was rolling up her pallet, still trying, as she had all night long, to find an honorable way out of the trap Annis had thrown her into, when the pounding of a horse at full gallop sounded along the trail from Kilmartin.

“Fia, Annis, get back in the trees,” Brodie said.

Kieron had already drawn his claymore and stood ready to defend them. Brodie quickly joined him as Fia slipped out of the clearing where they had camped and into the deeper cover of the forest. Annis did the same, though far enough away that Fia did not have to look at her or bear the smirk that had not left the woman’s face since their conversation last night.

The horseman galloped past them without slowing, but before he had gone far he pulled the horse to a harsh stop, and returned. Kieron and Brodie stood their ground even as the horseman approached.

“I seek Fia of Kilmartin!” the man called and Fia recognized the voice immediately.

She dashed out of the tree cover and ran to Kieron’s side. “Jamie, what is wrong? Is it Elena?”

Jamie dismounted quickly. “Aye, ’tis the Lady. The bairn is coming but something is wrong and the midwife cannot seem to help her. Symon bade me fetch you from Kilglashan village immediately. Thank the saints you are here. Take my horse,” he held the reins out to her, “he will be faster than your old mare and there is no time to lose.”

“Fia cannot go alone,” Kieron said, only now sheathing his sword.

“Come with me, Kieron,” Fia said as she accepted a leg up onto the big horse from Jamie. “The others can follow behind when they are ready.” But she did not wait for his answer. She gripped the horse’s mane in her hands as hard as her fear for Elena gripped her gut. Leaning low over its neck, she kicked him and they took off. All the while she whispered desperate prayers for Elena’s survival.

It wasn’t long before she heard the pounding of hoof beats coming up behind her. She glanced back only long enough to ascertain that it was Kieron, and even though her anxiety over Elena remained, there was a tiny thread of comfort sliding through it at the knowledge that he was with her.

They rode hard for Kilmartin. The horses had to slow to a quick walk as they climbed the steep path out of the glen, past great gnarled trees almost bereft of leaves now that winter was so close, and up to the top of a small ben where the castle sat overlooking the wide shallow valley. When they reached the relative flat they urged the horses back to a fast trot, Fia shouting, “Clear the way! Clear the way!” as they raced through the gate tunnel and skidded to a stop in the bailey. She leapt off the horse, dropped its reins to the ground, and ran full tilt up the stairs and into the kitchen tower, then up the interior turnstile stair to the chief’s chamber. Symon was pacing the corridor, an anxious expression on his face she had not seen since she was a tiny girl.

“How is she,” Fia asked as Symon enveloped her in a hug, then held her by her shoulders far enough away to look her in the eyes. Despair and frustration filled his gaze, but not grief.

“She lives, but it is not good, Fia. The midwife says the bairn is stuck and refuses to be born. She has tried to turn it, but there is not room.”

“Not room?”

Symon closed his eyes and sighed. “The midwife says there are twins. Fia, my Elena has been calling for you since well before dawn. No matter what happens, she will be eased to ken you are here.”

“I will do everything I can for her, Symon, I promise you that.”

“I ken it well, Imp. My Mairi is in there with her, too. Be strong for her, for both of them.”

Fia nodded, the memory of Elena’s vigil by Fia’s mother’s birthing bed slamming through her.

“When you know what you need,” Symon continued, “tell me and I will see it brought to you immediately.” He hugged her again.

Before Fia could open the door she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Kieron standing there. She had been so focused on Elena and Symon she had not realized that he had followed her into the tower.

“Take this,” he said, folding the pouch that held the Winter Stone into her hand. “Use it as you did for my chief. I know you can help her.”

Fia’s eyes welled at the faith he had in her. She rose up onto her toes and kissed him quickly. “My thanks,” she said quietly. “Will you wait for me? Please? I would say goodbye before you leave.” She knew her voice quavered but there was nothing to be done about that.

“I will not leave this corridor until I see you again,” he said.

She managed a smile, relieved that she did not have to say goodbye yet, then slipped into Elena’s chamber.