Chapter 9
The next morning, Aftyn dressed, gathered her cloak and a packet of supplies she might need, then went down to the great hall to break her fast. Once she finished, she planned to go back out to Robena’s to see how she’d fared during the night.
When she got back to the herbal, she'd intended to continue preparing the potions she needed to stock her shelves and be ready for new patients.
She was surprised to see Niall come carefully down the stairs between Rabbie and Fearchar.
He gripped a cane in one hand that he used to limp to the nearest table and take a seat, relief evident on his face as he looked around.
She went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m so happy to see ye here,” she told him.
“I, too,” he answered with a smile. “I’m glad to see something besides those four walls. No’ that I’m complaining, mind ye.”
“Nay, ye would never do that,” Rabbie teased, and Fearchar rolled his eyes.
“What will ye do today?” Niall asked, then added, “Now that ye dinna have to spend all yer time watching over me.”
“I never minded that,” she told him, sadness filling her at the lie. She’d minded thinking she’d have to cut off part of his leg. She’d minded watching him die in agony. But Niall didn’t need to know that.
“I ken it, and I’m more grateful than ye can ken for all ye did for me.”
“I’m glad Jamie got here when he did,” she admitted, her throat tight.
She cleared it, unable to bring herself to say how close he’d come under her care to dying.
“I planned to check on ye later, but ye saved me the visit. I’m headed beyond the village to visit a woman under my care. Where is Jamie?”
“Down in the village. Ye might see him there. He said something about the promise he made to the laird.”
Aftyn’s stomach sank at the reminder of her father’s opinion of her abilities, but she hid her dismay.
The only assurance she had against her father’s claim he would find someone to replace her was that Jamie fully intended to leave in a few days.
“Well, then, I’ll be off,” she told them, returned to her seat to pick up her belongings, and headed out of the keep.
Would she find Jamie as she walked through the village?
She had told Robena’s husband they would both come to see her today.
But she passed through the village without a glimpse of him.
She needed to know what he’d done to Robena while he was there without her. She hadn’t seen him since the evening before last. When she did, she’d get the answers she wanted.
She hoped the lovely morning was a sign that she’d find Robena well.
The long walk gave her time to enjoy being out of the keep and by herself.
And to remind herself that Jamie hadn’t gone behind her back to care for Robena.
He’d only done what he'd promised the laird.
It wasn't her fault she hadn't been able to go with him.
When she entered the croft, Colin was already gone and Robena slept, still breathing more easily than she had in a fortnight.
Relieved, Aftyn took a seat to rest for a while before heading back to the village to see Kayla and the new bairn.
Watching Robena breathing made her happy, but before long, watching her sleep made her drowsy.
She was about to get up and head back to the village when a noise outside alerted her just before the cottage door opened.
“Colin?” Aftyn stood, expecting Robena’s husband.
Instead, Agatha stepped in, followed by a tall, broad shape Aftyn knew well, silhouetted against the morning light streaming in the door. Jamie! He stepped farther into the room and shifted his stance as he took in the interior of the croft in one glance, then fastened his gaze on her.
She had no time to ask why he had come back here without her.
Agatha’s eyes widened when she noticed Aftyn. “Ye! What have ye done to Robena? Is she breathing?” She took a step forward, then stopped and put a hand over her heart. “Or have ye finally killed her? Are ye waiting for poor Colin to come home so ye can revel in his grief?”
Agatha spat her hateful words so quickly that Aftyn had no chance to defend herself. “I came to check on my patient,” she explained once Agatha stopped for breath.
“She’s nay your patient. Colin said he’s a better healer,” Agatha added, gesturing at Jamie, who frowned down at her, then moved to Robena’s bedside.
Jamie nodded at the bed, then frowned at Agatha. “Yer friend Robena still needs rest. Ye will wake her.”
“’Tis good he’s here to keep his eye on ye,” Agatha continued, pitching her voice a little lower. "Ye can no longer kill her slowly with yer potions and spells.”
Aftyn gasped. “Spells?” She did her best not to express her outrage in the volume of her voice. "I dinna use… I havena harmed her,” she hissed. "I helped her…”
“Nay, ye havena. Ye let her suffer without doing anything to heal her,” Agatha cut in and pointed at Jamie. “He’s done more to help Robena in a day than ye have in all the months ye have tended her.”
That reminded Aftyn of her most pressing question. “Indeed? And what did he do for her?” She moved her gaze from Agatha to Jamie, fighting to control the agitation that Agatha’s presence always made her feel. “She still sleeps. What did ye give her?”
He hesitated, then answered, “My methods, and my medicines, are my own, lass. Ye ken that.”
She glared at him for a moment, puzzled, then realized it was true. He hadn’t given her anything of his. He’d spent his time making her mother’s cures useful to her.
Regret filled his dark eyes, regret she didn’t understand.
“I’m the healer to this keep and this village. Long after ye are gone, I’ll still have the care of these people. If ye have something more effective than my medicines, my methods, I must ken. I’ve asked ye before. I’m asking again.”
“Dinna listen to her,” Agatha snarled. “She kens a wee from her dead ma, but she’s no’ a real healer.”
“Agatha, I’ve told ye I am sorry for yer wee son, but nothing anyone could have done would have saved him.”
Agatha blanched and dropped into a chair.
“How dare ye mention my wee bairn? My only son.” Her pallor didn’t ease as the sheen of tears formed in her eyes.
“My husband’s only heir, and ye let him die.
” Suddenly her color came back, along with the wild accusations Aftyn had become accustomed to from her.
“Have ye slowly poisoned Robena all this time? Did ye do the same to my bairn?”
Aftyn clenched her teeth. How could she answer such an allegation? It made her heart sore to hear it. “I would never harm anyone.” She wanted to cringe, recalling what she'd considered doing to Niall, but she kept her expression impassive.
Jamie put a hand over hers, holding her still, then spoke to Agatha. “How was Robena when ye visited yesterday?”
Agatha cleared her throat, her expression changing from angry to abashed. “She was able to sit up in bed and eat some food I prepared for her. Colin returned home to find her there. He was overjoyed.”
“Understandable.”
“No thanks to—”
“Dinna say it,” Jamie said, cutting her off before she could indulge her anger, leaving her sputtering. “Ye dinna ken what ails the poor lass. Aftyn did everything possible and kept her alive until I arrived.”
Agatha sputtered. “I dinna…”
“Ye blame the healer unfairly for a tragedy no one could have prevented,” Jamie said, cutting her off.
Agatha’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I wish she’d saved my bairn instead of me.”
Shocked, Aftyn spoke up. “Ye were never in danger. And the bairn’s death had nought to do with ye, or his birth. He simply was no’ strong enough to survive.”
Aftyn had heard his heart stutter and stop.
She’d tried but could not make it beat again.
Agatha had lost two daughters to stillbirth.
Perhaps the dashed hopes after the joy of a live birth—a son—had been more than anyone could bear.
In any case, Aftyn stayed away from both Agatha and her husband, and hoped they never needed a healer again, because they would not accept her help.
The day their son died, her future in the glen became tenuous at best, dangerous at worst. If people would not call on her, and she knew some who wouldn’t, she remained on her father’s sufferance, nothing more.
“What she says is true, Agatha,” Jamie told her.
Agatha didn’t look up. “How would ye ken? Ye were no’ here.”
The pain in her voice still tore at Aftyn.
Jamie answered her. “I’ve seen the like before, and I’m sorry for all ye have been through, but ye must no’ blame this lass.”
“Dinna tell me what I must no’ do! I do blame her.”
“Ye always have,” Aftyn said, then wished she hadn’t. Provoking Agatha was not wise.
“Get out of my sight,” Agatha snarled.
“And does that apply to me, too?” Jamie asked, his voice remarkably calm.
“What? Nay, of course no’. Robena might still need ye.”
“It does, Agatha. Ye canna see it for yer grief, but ye canna drive away one healer and expect to keep the other.”
She crossed her arms and glared at them both. “Then I’m done with both of ye.”
“But perhaps Robena isna.”
Aftyn held her tongue, letting Jamie’s tone of calm reason settle Agatha. Nothing she could say would make Agatha behave any better. She glanced at him for some indication of what he wanted to do.
“This is no place to argue what canna be changed,” he said, his gaze on Agatha.
Agatha sniffed, stood, and marched out the door without a backward glance.
Aftyn thought to follow her, to try to explain yet again what had happened to her son. Agatha refused to hear that anything could be wrong with her strong husband’s son.
“Are ye no’ going to follow her?”
“I’d rather talk to ye. What potion did ye give Robena? She sleeps so long, so deeply. And she breathes after weeks and months of gasping for air when the mist rolls in and the air gets thick and heavy. Did ye give her aught for her pain?”