Chapter 3
Ella led Calum along the path through the nearly empty bailey, gravel crunching under their boots.
With most of the keep’s residents either inside preparing the great hall for the Marymas feast, or out of the keep taking part in family celebrations or hunting, the healer approved coming outside if she didn’t take him far and was careful.
To Ella, the brilliant afternoon sunshine seemed an odd counterpoint to the darkness Calum had lived in for three sennights.
Though he couldn’t see it, she hoped the change in his surroundings, the warmth of the sun, and the fresh air would help speed his recovery.
“We’re near the stables,” he suddenly remarked, lifting his head in its direction. “I smell horses and their feed.”
Startled, Ella nodded, then remembered to speak in Janet’s low, clipped tones.
Calum had suffered ringing in his ears since the battle.
Just before they came outside, the healer removed the packing from them that muffled sound, worrying Ella.
She had relied on it to help alter her voice, but the healer insisted it was time for it to come out as he had stopped complaining about the noise in his head.
“Aye, we are,” she answered. “What else do ye smell?” She hoped the onions in her pocket continued to mask her own scent.
Likely he’d gotten used to the onion scent around her and knew she wasn’t asking about herself.
She hoped by the time they ended this deception, her clothes would not be permanently stained with the scent.
“Something acrid…woodsmoke and…metal. Hot metal,” Calum told her. “The blacksmith’s forge.”
“We’re approaching it. How did ye ken?” The forge was still, lacking on this feast day the clang of the smith’s hammer on his anvil.
The healer also agreed to this foray because the bailey would be more quiet than usual.
She wanted to know if Calum’s hearing had truly improved or if he’d simply learned to ignore the ringing.
Calum remained silent for a few moments as they walked farther. “My life depends on what I notice around me,” he told her. “The iron has a tang that I taste as well as smell…and I felt the heat from the banked forge as we neared it.”
“I did no’,” she told him. What else did he notice that she failed to discern?
“I’ve lived in this keep most of my life,” he added. “I can find my way around this bailey blindfold…” He stopped suddenly, stiffened and sucked in a breath.
Ella laid her free hand on her heart, pity for him welling up at his words. He would hear it in her voice, so she took a breath and tried encouragement. “Aye, ye can, Calum, very well. Yer senses are undimmed by yer time indoors.”
“I am…I was a Brodie scout,” he said, turning his face aside as though staring off into space while recalling the battle that made him an invalid these past weeks. “One of the best. What am I, if I can nay longer be what I was?”
Ella wanted to hug him, but a servant like Janet would never dare do so.
Even to reassure him would be a risk for Janet.
Some men would think nothing of forcing a servant they fancied to lie with them.
She was certain Calum was not one of those men.
Still, she saw nothing good in tempting him.
But it didn’t matter. She had no answer to give him.
If he wasn’t acting out in frustration over his enforced blindness, he fretted over his future, his place in the clan.
How he would fight if the battle they’d fought at Harlaw was repeated elsewhere.
She reached for something to lighten his mood.
“Ye need no’ think to become a bard—ye dinna have the voice for it,” she told him in a teasing tone.
As soon as she said the words, she regretted them.
Would Calum realize Janet had never seen him drunk and singing drinking songs with other men, but Ella had?
His brow furrowed, telling her she had his attention. Calum’s lips tightened, then twisted, one side quirking up in what appeared to be a hard-fought attempt at a smile.
Relieved he didn’t seem to have made the connection, Ella couldn’t help smiling back. If his sense of humor was returning, he truly was getting better. He’d always had a light touch with his best friend Euan’s gruffness. She’d missed it since he’d been injured.
Then his hands curled into fists. “If ye dinna take this wrapping from around my head, I’ll do it myself. I canna bear this darkness any longer.”
She stepped in front of him, grabbed his wrists and held them down by his sides, using her weight against his strength.
She had not been this close to him, face to face, body to body, since he’d been injured, and the heat and scent of him distracted her for a moment.
As many times as she discouraged his teasing advances before Harlaw, she found she now wanted him this close—even closer.
But not like this. “Ye will no’!” She knew he could break her grip with little effort, but she had to prevent him.
“The healer said yer eyes must remain covered—both of them—if ye wish to regain yer sight.”
“What sight?” he snarled. “She is blinding me as surely as that shattered sword did.”
Ella hoped he never said that in Mhairi’s hearing.
She would be hurt. “A steel splinter went into yer left eye. She told ye, what one eye does, they both do, so to let yer wound heal, ye canna try to use the other.” Ella released his wrists and placed a hand on his arm, still heavily muscled despite his forced inactivity.
“Ye were out of yer head with fever for days—”
“What? The healer said ’twas mild.”
“She sought to reassure ye. She’s treating yer eye with a tincture of wine, honey, and herbs that keep it from festering. And the fever is gone. So ye think all else is healed as well. But until the healer gives ye leave, ’tis too soon. Do ye truly wish to lose the sight in that eye?”
Calum was silent for a long moment before his shoulders dropped. “No’ if I havena already,” he bit out, defeated. “A blind scout is worthless, and a half-blind man fares little better. If I am to be useful as a warrior…”
“Ye have been so patient,” she said, cutting him off, and risking much being so forward with him.
She wished she could do as he asked and reveal his gaze.
She missed the way he looked at her. The longing for her he hadn’t hid—and now that she thought back on it, he never tried to disguise.
But she heard the fear in his voice he struggled to keep inside.
How he must long for the sight of blue skies…
and everything else. As much as she wanted to soften her tone, with him, she had to be Janet, so she grated out, “Ye can tolerate waiting a wee more.”
He pressed his full lips together, then spoke. “If at the end, the reward is being able to see ye.”
The abrupt end to his sentence made Ella study his face—as much as she could see for the bandages.
Was he teasing, or did he mean it? She couldn’t tell by his tone of voice if he had become soft on Janet or knew her to be Ella.
He sounded more like the old Calum—before he was injured.
Less angry, if only a little. But his posture was still stiff.
Once the healer removed the bandages from his eyes, how would seeing her again as Ella affect him?
How angry would he be to know she was Janet?
She might have much to regret. Such as the tension in his jaw that told her she’d only added to his misery today.
“I am sorry. I did no’ mean to make ye feel worse. ”
“I ken it, lass,” he said after a hesitation that put her even more on edge. “Thank ye for talking sense to me when all I want to do is something rash. ’Tis no’ yer fault the Lowlanders fight with poorly forged blades.”
She encouraged him to move with a light tug on his sleeve.
“Ye were unlucky to be so near to one that shattered,” she said as they walked along.
“But,” she added as his fists clenched yet again, “ye were lucky to have made it home from the battle so quickly, and to be under the care of the Brodie healer. That blow to yer head…Mhairi saved yer life. She may well have saved yer sight. I hope so.”
“No’ half so much as I.”
She wanted to give herself—give Ella—credit for helping Mhairi, but she didn’t dare mention that name.
Janet had already been overly familiar for her station.
Instead, she squeezed his forearm in sympathy.
“We need to go in soon.” She hesitated, then deliberately brightened her tone.
“The Marymas feast is taking place this eve. Everyone is expected to attend. Ye, too.” How she wanted him to be able to enjoy the celebration, to spend time with his friends, to laugh.
It would be so good for him. She tensed, waiting for his response.
“Marymas? Already? How long have I been confined to that chamber?”
Ella sighed and walked on. He kept pace with her easily, despite the uneven ground. “Only a fortnight and a few days, Calum.”
“So I’m to attend a feast I canna see and make a fool of myself trying to eat it?”
“I will be there to help ye.”
He stopped again, head tilted back, face to the sky. If he’d been facing the sun, she would have thought he sought its heat, or its strength. But they faced shadows.
Whether in frustration or despair, behind the bandages, his eyes were probably squeezed shut.
She could only imagine what kind of battle must be raging inside this proud man.
She dared not leave him standing here to brood.
She could see his mood darkening with every moment that passed, his whole body stiff and his hands again curled into fists at his side.
She had to do something to break the spell.
“Calum!” As Janet, she felt free to say his name more sharply than Ella ever would. “I’ve much to do before this eve. Will ye take me inside, please?” If his sense of humor failed, his sense of duty rarely did.