Chapter Eighteen
Seconds after Eoghan fell, the quiet of the crowd was broken by the keening – Betris, shrieking over her brother, and Ailith turned her horrified gaze from the harrowing sight of William bent over his kin to Eoghan’s screeching sister.
Several Grants quickly escorted her away, her shrieking cries drifting through the small Grant village as she departed the scene of her dead brother.
In a swift move, Teagan rushed to the dying Eoghan’s side and put her hands on the bloody wound to try to stop the bleeding.
The gash scored a long and deep fissure of jagged flesh that tore from his front to his back.
Ailith watched with fascination, almost as if watching a television show from her own time, while Teagan switched to her nurse mode.
Her face tensed, and her absolute focus was on the dying man.
He was bleeding out – that was a term Ailith was familiar with, and she strode to Teagan’s side.
“Can I do anything?” Ailith asked, crouching next to her.
Teagan took a deep breath as if steeling her nerves, and, with a glance at Ailith, pressed her fingers under Eoghan’s bloody jaw. Ailith understood the gesture– she was checking for a pulse – and Ailith tried to block the movement as best she could from any onlookers.
Teagan’s other hand kept pressure on the wound; Eoghan’s blood stained her hands and his tunic. It trickled over her pale skin in branching networks of deep russet red, a chaotic topography of tiny highways on Teagan’s hand.
Ailith knew the outcome before Teagan said a word. He was too far gone. With a grim expression, Teagan shifted her mossy green gaze to Ailith and shook her head slightly.
“Thank ye for trying to save him,” Ailith told the nurse.
Although her skills might only have extended into the First World War, she had more skill than Ailith. The attempt, futile though it was, did not go unappreciated.
Wiping her bloodied hands against the lower part of Eoghan’s tunic, Teagan stood, and Ailith followed her. Teagan went immediately to William.
As Teagan inspected William’s injuries, primarily his horribly swollen and bruised knee, Ailith knelt in front of him, holding his hand. Yet her mind kept going back to her worries about the clans and the Highlands as a whole.
What would happen to the unity of the clans after this miserable day? Had William and his father made any headway with the Morays? And her most pressing concern – what action would the Grants take now after everything the MacDougals had done to form an alliance?
So many questions, yet she hesitated to ask William any of them. His sorrow and his pain were etched into his face, and Ailith feared it would be a long time before they eased. He did not need any added weight.
The issue with the Grants was the most concerning, however. She decided to mention as much to William, who bowed his head and pressed his forehead close to hers as Teagan wrapped his knee in fabric torn from Ailith’s linen shift.
“I dinna know, mo ruaidh. Naught seems certain right now.” He paused, as if he had something more to say, then took a deep breath. “I nearly expected ye to be fighting with a Grant when I arrived,” he said in a low voice.
Ailith shifted, feeling the warm, comfortable weight of her knife against her thigh.
Should I tell him about the dreams? Nay, no’ yet. No’ after all this, she thought.
He had just fought and killed his friend for her innocence, and her dreams made her seem more like a pagan witch than any of Grants’ or abbot’s accusations.
Using that reasoning, she averted her eyes.
“I did no’ believe that fighting on my own behalf would go far in convincing them that I was no’ a witch.”
William brushed his finger along her cheek. “Wise decision.”
They were alone in the village now, with only her brother and Daniel with them.
The man who rode in with William, Iain, had been sent back to Drumoak to let them know all had been resolved.
Teagan had finished attending to his wounds and stepped back to Bonnie Bride.
After Betris had been escorted away, the abbot had ordered Eoghan’s body removed, and the rest of the crowd departed as well.
Seocan must have overheard because he spoke up.
“Ye will always have the alliance of the Gordons. And dinna presume the rest of the Grants believe the same as these few. Ye canna let one man with crazed thoughts speak for a clan. James Grant was no’ present to authorize any of this ill will, and I’ll have a few words with James on the matter, especially regarding his overreaching abbot.
He likely does no’ know what the abbot or Eoghan were doing. ”
William’s head snapped up. “The accusation occurred in the absence of their chieftain? How did this all transpire? What were they thinking to take such an unsanctioned action?”
To Ailith, Eoghan and the abbot’s accusations and bold deeds were understandable. The cat was away, so the mice decided to declare witchcraft.
“Eoghan managed to convince a few other Grants and, with his sister, spoke to the abbot who sanctioned this,” Seocan explained.
“Cormag and I will speak with James. He will side with us, as he is tired of those trying to drive a wedge between the clans. If anything, this was an affront to us more than Eoghan’s death is an insult to them.
Ask any man here, Grants included. Which man here would no’ have done the same in defense of his wife? ”
Daniel nodded as he stepped away to retrieve their horses.
Seocan paused and rested his hand on William’s shoulder. “I am sorry for the loss of your kin and how it transpired. No man should have to do what ye have done this day, though we all would have done the verra same.”
William accepted Seocan’s condolences with a nod, and Seocan turned to Ailith. “Mairi will want to speak with ye. She regrets any words she spoke that struck this sour note in Betris or anyone else who might have heard such rumors. She has much to atone for.”
The mention of Mairi made Ailith’s stomach sink. She gathered the filthy plaid more tightly around her but did not know what to say. If Mairi hadn’t intentionally meant any harm, then Ailith could easily forgive her for any misunderstanding.
If she had meant it intentionally . . .
Ailith shook the thought from her head. As she had told herself far too often as of late, that was a tomorrow problem. She inclined her head to her brother.
Seocan embraced her in a tight, bear-like hug that only a brother can give before grasping William’s forearm in farewell, then turned to his horse. “We will escort the woman from Eire back to her house. Ye take our lass home,” he instructed William.
Ailith’s lips curled at the reference to Teagan as the woman from Eire. If only ye knew where she really came from…
Then Ailith sighed in a weary breath. Home. That word sounded so good. She brushed her mud-caked hair off her face – home and a bath.
Daniel approached her for a fatherly embrace and leaned in close to speak to her quietly.
“This should no’ have happened, but ‘tis fortunate William fought for ye this time. Yet, dinna let your skills fade. I, for one, think shieldmaidens pale in your shadow. Keep your chin up, lassie.” He patted her upper back and joined Seocan at his own steed.
Leave it to Daniel to defend my modern behaviors, she thought.
The dream woman had been right about not fighting. Daniel’s comment reinforced the sagacity of her advice. Ailith offered up a quick prayer of thanks.
Thank ye, Dream-Eladon, or whoever ye are.
Ailith turned to Teagan, who followed behind Daniel.
“Thank ye for bringing him here,” Ailith told her, meaning William. Teagan was no horsewoman, and that ride must have been a trial for her.
Teagan wrapped her thin arms around Ailith. “‘Twas the least I could do for all ye have done for me. I canna fight as ye can. So I brought the man I thought could fight the best for ye.”
More tears, impossible tears, stained Ailith’s lashes. She thought she was all cried out, and there were none left, yet more burned in her eyes.
“Ye did more than ye know,” Ailith told her new friend.
Taking a deep breath, Teagan stood upright and surveyed the landscape. “I know how ye must be feeling. Go home with your man, and try to forget this day. Then we will come together in a few days’ time and see what else we might do with your mushrooms.”
A friend like Teagan, one who understood her emotions and concerns, sent a wave of much-needed cheer through her. Ailith nodded and vowed to visit soon, with William in tow. Teagan gave Ailith a tender smile, then joined Daniel, who helped her onto his horse before mounting up in front of her.
With a final nod to her and William, they rode southeast, toward the Grant border.
William slid his arm around Ailith’s waist and limped slightly as he led her to his horse.
“Will ye tell me about your leg?” she asked, immediately thinking of how she might care for it now that Teagan had treated the injury along with his other wounds.
They added to his present patchwork of scars, and she hated that she contributed to any more he might have – the thought hit like a sharp punch to her gut.
Yet, he had been limping when he arrived, so there was more to the story than his fight with Eoghan.
“On the morrow. For now, I just want to leave this place.”
His voice was terse. Not angry, at least it did not sound that way to Ailith, but the sorrow and pain of the day burdened him. And she had been the cause of it.
How did he not despise her for her involvement in the events that led to Eoghan’s death? What might she say or do to begin to support William in his mourning for a lost friend? She swallowed the hard lump that formed in her throat.
“I am so sorry, William,” Ailith said in a tight voice as she tried not to cry again. “He was a friend and cousin. One should no’ have to make such a choice. I’m sorry that my actions put ye in such a wretched position.”