Chapter 8
Isobel cried out in shock and sprinted towards the keep without a second thought. Moira followed closely. They ran inside and made their way to Jamie’s room. It was a small chamber with little more than the essentials.
A healer was standing over him with a pensive look on her face.
Jamie was feverish and sweat prickled his brow.
He writhed and murmured in anguish, and it seemed as though sleep would not bring him any relief from his pain.
Isobel burst through and fell to her knees, clasping her brother’s hand.
Tears flowed down her cheeks as she gazed at her brother, willing him to get better.
Moira frowned, concerned about what she was seeing.
It did seem strange that Jamie would fall ill given how strong he was, but illness could strike anyone.
Things like this had never been much of a concern for Moira, but everyone else seemed to be deathly afraid.
Moira did notice one thing, though: there was no wreath hanging over Jamie’s bed like there was in the other chambers.
Was it possible that some malevolent spirits had made their way into his room without the protection of rowan wood?
Moira intended to stay and comfort Isobel, but it was no use. The girl was distraught and it was clear that her brother meant a lot to her.
Niall was preoccupied with meetings all day.
Things must have been serious if they were so concerned and that made Moira worried as well.
Everything had been going so well and she hadn’t even had a chance to get to properly know Jamie yet.
It seemed unfair that happiness should turn to tragedy so suddenly.
However, she tried to stop herself from falling into despair.
Illness wasn’t death, and plenty of people had gotten better before, but Moira didn’t like being left with nothing to do.
While Isobel remained by her brother’s bedside, Niall was speaking with healers, leaving Moira alone.
She wanted to do something to help, so she decided to go out and pick some flowers to at least bring some color and life to Jamie’s chamber.
It was dark and gloomy, and she couldn’t imagine it would do anything to help him recover.
She walked out to a nearby field with a basket and began to pick flowers.
She hummed to herself and wondered what could have made Jamie so ill.
After all, he hadn’t shown any symptoms at the wedding.
She prayed that he would recover, as enough tragedy had befallen all of them, and she didn’t want to have to grieve with Niall and Isobel when such a thing could be avoided.
She moved around the field without taking much notice of where she was going.
She spotted some flowers in the distance and moved towards them.
She didn’t realize that she was close to the shadows of the wood until she heard a voice whisper to her, “Ye are daeing a good thing.”
Moira had been so lost in her own thoughts that she jumped.
“Ye scared me!” Moira said when she realized it was just the old woman. Grizel seemed to find this amusing. She walked forward, leaning on her gnarled cane, and looked at Moira through her cloudy eyes.
“Ye are daeing this for wee Jamie, aye?” Grizel asked.
“Aye, I thought he could use some color in his chamber.”
Grizel laughed, although her laugh had a haunting quality to it.
“That boy could always use more color in his life. All he’s ever seen is the red of blood.
Just like his da, wanting war and battle and all the things that cost men their lives.
He haes never paid any attention tae anything else.
Always his mind haes been on other things. ”
“Dae ye think this is the work of the spirits?” Moira asked.
Grizel looked around and sighed. “They can sometimes be cruel, especially tae people who dinnae believe in them. I tried tae make Jamie see what is around us. I tried tae teach them all, but only Isobel truly listened.” Grizel wore a sad expression and shook her head.
“I will try and commune with the spirits tae see if I can get them tae lift this curse, but they rarely grant favors.
I wouldnae be surprised if Jamie said some joke that the spirits would take unkindly.” She shook her head again, as though Jamie had made a foolish error. And with that, Grizel turned back and disappeared into the shadows of the forest, as though she became the darkness itself.
Moira found it difficult to keep her mind on her task.
She moved back to the middle of the field, wanting to stay away from the woods, and yet she found it difficult to take her gaze away from the trees.
Was it possible that the spirits were taking their revenge for something that Jamie had said, or that his chamber, unprotected by a wreath, was the only point they could strike?
Suddenly there seemed to be a chill in the air, and it felt as though a hundred eyes were upon her, watching and waiting. But for what?