Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
“This castle is like a labyrinth,” Abigail whispered as they all followed the laird.
Freya could only nod. She could feel Leighton’s glare boring into her back, but she didn’t care. Whatever petty quarrels or hierarchies existed here, they were irrelevant in the face of a sick child.
The moment they entered Cody’s room, Freya’s heart tightened. The boy lay pale and motionless beneath heavy blankets, his small chest rising and falling in uneven, shallow breaths. His face was flushed, beads of sweat glistening on his brow.
Freya crossed to his bedside and placed a gentle hand on his forehead. The heat radiating from his skin was alarming. “He’s burnin’ up,” she said, her tone crisp and professional. “I need a fever reducer immediately.”
Leighton, who had followed them into the room, crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve been sparin’ with the fever remedies,” he said, his voice defensive.
“Our stores of herbs are very low, and I’ve prioritized treatments where they’ll do the most good.
Besides, I doubt there is enough for what ye require. ”
“Ye are supposed to be healin’ me lad, and ye’re deprivin’ him of the medicine?” Michael snarled through clenched teeth.
Freya couldn’t stop herself. “Prioritized? This boy is yer laird’s son, and he’s clearly on the brink of collapse! How have ye nae prepared for this?”
Without waiting for the man to respond, she turned to Marissa and Abigail. “We’ll need feverfew, willow bark and elderflower.” Then, her next question was addressed to the laird. “Where can they find it?”
“Leighton?” Michael shot in the man’s direction.
“The woods by the castle, there is a clearin’ to the north,” Leighton explained reluctantly.
Marissa nodded immediately, her expression determined, while Abigail hesitated for a heartbeat before giving a small, resolute nod.
Freya didn’t even need to ask that question.
She knew her sisters well. However, she did it so that the laird would be reassured of their herb finding capabilities as much as she herself was.
Then, another shock ensued.
“Sendin’ children—and lasses, for that matter—to gather herbs?
” Leighton interjected, his voice dripping with disdain.
“They’ll likely bring back weeds or poison.
” He sneered, his gaze flicking over Freya with open contempt.
“This is why proper healers are men. Women lack the discipline and knowledge to—”
“Enough!” the laird snapped, his tone cutting through his words like a blade.
He had caught everyone off guard, including Freya, who was already preparing a scolding retort in her mind to teach this insolent healer a lesson he would never forget.
As it turned out, she didn’t need to. The laird jumped in at just the right moment.
He stepped closer, his eyes blazing. “If ye’d done yer job, Leighton, I wouldnae have had to ride to Freya’s and knock on her door in the middle of the night like some thief. Ye’re nae just incompetent; ye’re a damned liability!”
Leighton’s face flushed a mottled red, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a retort, but the laird’s deep voice didn’t allow for any interruption. It seemed that those were words threatening to see the light of day for a very long time, and finally, that moment had come.
“I’ve had enough of yer failures, Leighton. Ye’ve been given chance after chance, and this is the last straw.”
He turned to one of the guards stationed at the door. “Escort me healer to the dungeons. He’ll spend the day there to think about his position in this castle.”
Leighton sputtered, his composure slipping entirely. “The dungeons? Me laird, ye cannae mean—”
The laird’s expression was unyielding. Freya could see that this was not an easy decision, however it was a necessary one. The man’s voice was as sharp as a blade. “I do. Ye’ve wasted enough of me time and jeopardized me son’s life with yer incompetence.”
The guard stepped forward, grabbing Leighton’s arm without any hesitation. Freya could see the healer’s eyes darting around the room, searching for sympathy, but there was none to be found. She wondered if he deserved any.
Leighton didn’t say anything else as he was led away, but his cold, calculating eyes were glaring at Freya until the very moment the doors closed on him.
That was when Freya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
The tension in the room lifted slightly, but her focus remained on the task at hand.
“Thank ye,” she said quietly to the laird, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her.
He was aggressive and a brute, utterly inconsiderate to other people’s feelings, and yet, he acted with regards to his own moral code, which seemed to align with her own.
He protected those who were being attacked unfairly.
And his protection made her skin tingle.
It made heat pool from the depth of her chest, all the way down to the bottom of her stomach.
A million little goosebumps erupted along her back, then as suddenly as they appeared, they vanished.
Nonsense.
She watched him nod curtly, turning to the second guard. “Ye’ll accompany her sisters to the forest. Keep them safe and help carry what they find.”
Freya crouched down in front of Abigail and Marissa, giving them each a reassuring smile. “Ye’ll be fine,” she said gently. “Ye’ve done this before, and ye’re the best foragers I ken.”
Abigail threw her arms around Freya in a quick, fierce hug before pulling back and nodding. Marissa grabbed a basket from the table, her jaw set in determination.
As the girls and the guard left, Freya turned back to Cody’s bedside. The boy’s breathing was still shallow, his face flushed with fever, but she refused to let despair take hold.
“We’ll get what ye need,” she murmured softly to him. “Ye just hold on a little longer.”
She didn’t look up, but she could feel the laird’s presence behind her, watching her every move. She didn’t care. For now, her focus was on saving his son. The rest could wait.
That was when her focus on Cody was broken by a soft knock at the door.
“Aye?” he called out.
A moment later, she turned to see a maid standing hesitantly in the doorway, her apron clutched tightly in her hands.
“Me laird,” the maid said, her voice barely above a whisper, “Councilman Ross is here. He says it’s urgent.”
The laird frowned, his jaw tightening as he looked between the maid and his son. Freya could see the conflict in his eyes—duty pulling him away, but his concern for Cody rooting him in place.
“I’ll stay with him,” Freya said softly, her voice steady.
He turned to her, his expression unreadable, but she met his gaze without flinching. “I willnae leave his side,” she assured him. “Go take care of what ye need to.”
He hesitated for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. “If anythin’ changes, send for me immediately,” he said, his tone firm but laced with a flicker of gratitude.
“Of course,” Freya replied.
Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a solid thud. The maid lingered for a moment, her eyes darting to Freya, but when Freya nodded, she hurried off after her laird.
Freya let out a quiet breath and pulled a chair closer to the bed.
Sitting down, she reached for a cloth in the basin of cool water that had been prepared earlier, wringing it out before gently dabbing Cody’s forehead.
His skin was still worryingly warm, but she noted a slight improvement in his breathing—small, but a step in the right direction.
She studied his pale face, her heart twisting at the sight of his fragile state. “Ye’re stronger than this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Ye’ll get through it. I’ll make sure of it.”
The room was quiet except for the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth and the soft sound of Cody’s breathing.
Freya adjusted the blankets around him, tucking him in snugly.
Her mind wandered briefly to Abigail and Marissa, praying they were safe in the forest and would return soon with the herbs.
But even as her thoughts drifted, her focus remained on the boy before her. Whatever else was happening in this castle, in this clan, none of it mattered right now. Cody was her priority.
I will nae fail ye, lad.