Chapter 2
When they had been standing outside the great-hall doors, Ada had whispered to her mother, Healer Iona Calvin, “Dinnae fash, Mither. I will no’ rest ’til ye can retire to our bothy yonder. Just think how happy we will be with the wind and the green grass all around us.”
Iona was in her eighties now, and no elixir in the Highlands would ever be strong enough to strengthen her weak bones.
“I promise ye, Mither.” Ada had given her mother’s hand a light squeeze.
“Ye’ll no longer have to brew and heal from sunup to sundown once we have the laird’s permission for ye to leave the Castle.
We can do whatever we please then. Maybe we can even seek out a physician in Edinburgh for ye to consult? ”
Iona had given a soft chuckle. “Ye’re a sweet child for thinking such a thing.
But nay, Ada darling. My days are drawing to an end.
There will be nay consultin’ with fancy Edinburgh physicians for me.
All I crave is to sit by a nice warm fire for the rest o’ me life and have a tasty bowl o’ broth served to me once in a while. ”
Since she had been old enough to remember, Ada had been teased by the other children living at the Castle for having such an elderly mother.
“Och, keek at Ada’s mither, lads! She’s so auld that mule she’s ridin’ must have stood in the manger where Mary an’ Joseph spent the night!
” the mercer’s son had crowed with laughter when Iona had come to fetch Ada from the small schoolhouse, where the village folk and clan sent their children to learn their letters and sums until they were old enough to work in the fields or seek an apprenticeship.
Ada knew how she came to be her mother's daughter as well as she knew the back of her hand. Iona had traveled to a small coastal hamlet when word arrived the inhabitants had been struck down by a strange contagion. Ada’s birth mother must have thought the bairn’s best chance at survival was for her to be put as far away from other people as possible.
Iona had found her in the hayloft of the barn and brought her down before burning the hamlet—and the contagion—to the ground.
Ada had been fed with the milk from all the cattle that had been rescued from the hamlet, but she was soon able to drink from a cup and was toddling around the healer’s workbench after a few weeks.
She had no memory of her parents but did not care about her humble hamlet origins; she was the foster daughter of one of the Highland’s greatest healers, and that was good enough for Ada Calvin!
Laird Calvin had given Iona a small herd of cattle as a gift for her bravery after saving the poor animals at the hamlet.
This, plus what she earned from the laird for healing his servants and clan, on top of what she made from selling her potions and sachets, added up to a very comfortable nest egg over the last sixteen years.
It also gave both the healer Calvins a certain amount of prestige at the Castle.
This was what made Ada unafraid to speak her mind.
“Laird, ye have been good to us over the years, and for that, we are grateful. But we have one last request to make o’ ye. Mither is in pain from the wasting illness in her bones. Thus, we ask to leave the Castle so that yer healers might live out the last o’ their days in peace and quiet.”
Laird Calvin shook his head. “I would be willin’ to say aye an’ go with me blessin’ but for one thing, Ada, Mistress Iona. Who will take yer place?”
A murmur of agreement rippled around the great hall. Consulting a physician cost money; asking the apothecary to mix a concoction was expensive. These men were only at the Castle when the wealthiest farmers or clan members were sick.
The steward raised his hand and was recognized by the laird.
“The village folk need a wise woman, Laird. Even the midwives consult Iona when it’s time for a lady to birth a bairn. Is our Castle to diminish into one of those barbaric places that use naturals for soothsayin’ an’ witches for healing brews? The Castle must have a healer.”
The steward spoke the truth. There were many hamlets in the Highlands that relied on addlepates to straighten broken limbs, believing that someone who could not learn was able to channel hidden healing powers as a conduit from the heavens.
Furthermore, witch women with no training other than knowing which herbs to pick and how to say a few mumbled words over them with a great deal of conviction were often consulted for potions and advice.
But neither of these types of people knew how to heal and were nothing more than a desperate resort for those people who had no other choice.
Laird Calvin spoke out. “This is a swift decision ye’ve made, Mistress Iona, an’ ye have given me no time to summon a replacement.
But I am prepared to weigh the odds. I must ask ye to debate the wisdom of this yearning to leave.
Is it really necessary? Ye will be depriving us o’ our two healers with this departure: yer daughter an’ yerself. Who’s to take yer place?”
Iona replied in a firm voice. “This was me home for a long time, Laird, no doubt, but I am sick an’ deserve to spend me final days at no one’s beck an’ call!
As for Ada wantin’ to leave with me, she’s me daughter an’ wants to nurse me.
I can hardly walk, as ye ken! We wish to leave as soon as may be.
We’ll only be one or two days’ journey away if someone falls ill. ”
A villager from the great hall audience raised their voice. “Aye, we love an’ respect both o’ ye ladies, sure as there is a heaven above, but ye being two days trek away will be of nay comfort for those too sick or injured to make the journey.”
Ada piped up, “I want to be with me mither! To look after her an’ see to her needs. Just as she did for me sixteen years back!”
Laird Calvin sighed, turning to his grandson.
“Lachlan, I want ye to rule upon this. It’s a difficult problem.
We need a healer staying at or near the Castle, but Iona’s bothy is far yonder.
The apothecary and physician charge high fees and only visit to consult here once a month because they live even further away!
If I let the healer and her daughter go, who will physick the servants and villagers? ”
Lachlan had his own agenda about the healer’s daughter since he first laid eyes on her.
“I have the perfect solution, Grandfaither.” He leaned forward, eager to show the regal-looking redhead that he was fit to rule wisely. “Let the auld crone retire to her cottage an’ send a maid to care for her; we have dozens o’ maids. And then the daughter can stay here and be our healer.”
If he expected a look of beseeching gratitude from Ada after he said this, Lachlan was in for a shock when the young girl stepped closer to the dais.
“I have seen only eight an’ ten summers come an’ go, sir. I have a further three years trainin’ I must still do. I promise to return to the Castle and work as the healer once I have finished me seven years of apprenticeship.”
Lachlan did not like the sound of that at all.
The moment this young beauty left his grandfather’s Castle, every farmer’s and merchant’s son for miles around would besiege the healer’s croft until the redhead married one of them.
He wanted her at Calvin Castle where he could try his chances with her first.
All he could think about was how he might push his advantage to be the first man to woo the young lass successfully.
“If ye stay here and finish yer daughter’s trainin’ in three years, Mistress Iona,” Lachlan said the words slowly and clearly so that the old healer could hear what he was ordering them to do, “it would help our laird. Come, postpone yer retirement for a few years. Ye might as well stay here until the three years are up! In that way, yer daughter, Ada, will have a craft she can teach others, and ye, Mistress Calvin, can go an’ live at yer bothy with a Calvin maid to look after yer needs.
We will make sure ye are comfortable here until then.
Yer daughter can carry the bulk of yer duties on her own shoulders as part of her training, can she not? ”
Before the red-haired daughter could react, the old woman nodded her head in agreement with the laird’s grandson’s suggestion. The scribe began to write the agreement that was reached down on parchment.
Laird Calvin sat still as a statue while his grandson made the ruling.
He knew better than to try and change the order; once a resolution was agreed to in public, it was recorded in the almanac and could never be revisited again, under penalty of severe punishment.
This was necessary in cases involving land disputes and vengeful squabbles that had the power to escalate into blood feuds.
He was puzzled as to why Lachlan made a decision that pleased neither supplicant, but it was too late to change things now.
But that was not the end of it. Ada Calvin jumped up onto the stone dais, her hair flying around her face like a vengeful fire demon.
“I did no’ agree! Tear up that rulin’!” She grabbed for the scribe's quill as the audience in the great hall drew in their collective breaths. “Give it to me! We will leave for our home in the country with or without yer permission!”
Lachlan stood up, grabbing Ada's wrist to stop her from taking the quill. “Be still! I will no’ tolerate such unseemly conduct in me grandfaither’s judgment chambers!”
When he did not let her wrist go, Ada tried to shake him loose, but it was useless. The tall, handsome man with the dark red hair was too strong.
She spat out the angry words into his face. “Let go of me! Ye have no true authority here! I’ve never seen ye before in me life, an’ now I’m meant to accept yer decree? No an’ no!”
The laird’s grandson was used to getting his own way when it came to disputes and women. He was shocked at Ada’s violent reaction.
“Wheesht! What’s another three years, lass? Belike ye’ll be happily married by then an’ more than content to stay here at the Castle.”
Laird Calvin interrupted. “I don’ think ye understand the special bond between the healer and her daughter, Lachlan.
Mother an’ foster daughter have never been apart since Iona rescued the bairn from certain death.
An’ not many men are keen to take on the responsibilities of a new wife at the same time as looking after an ailing mither-in-law… ”
Iona tried to stand up from her chair but settled for banging the flagstones with her staff.
“The ruling has been made, Ada, an’ I accepted it. The Castle is the best place for ye to finish yer training.”
Ada’s eyes were flooded with tears. “But Mither, ye’re in pain. Ye can hardly walk! I would rather forego me trainin’ an’ we go live quietly in the hills like we planned.”
“It’s too late,” Iona sighed. “The agreement has been recorded in writing an’ witnessed by all these good people. Think about the good of the clan. We are Calvins, after all.”
It was clear that Ada Calvin was not prepared to accept Lachlan’s decision lying down.
She gathered herself to her full height, which was impressive even though she was wearing soft leather buskins on her feet, and she gripped the sides of her head with her hands as if her thoughts were trying to escape that way.
It was a blustery August morning; the weather could not make up its mind whether to rain or shine.
A dark cloud scudded across the sky, blotting out the sun.
Suddenly, everyone in the great hall was chilled as the shadows lengthened on the walls.
Ada’s eyes were closed. She seemed to be debating within herself whether to obey the dictate or not.
Her eyes flew open, blazing green as poison on Lachlan standing in front of her.
“Ye will rue the day ye made a May Day o’ our plans, Lachlan Calvin! Yer cruel dismissal of me darling mither’s aches an’ pains will come back to haunt ye with a vengeance.”
Lachlan had never been one to ponder on life’s deeper meaning, but he knew one thing: it would be impossible trying to talk to this young woman again after she had taken him in such a dislike; he was beginning to regret his decision.
“I meant ye an’ yer mither nay harm, lass,” he said.
“If it means that much to ye, I can only say this to make ye feel better: I will help ye with anything ye need done. Yer mither need no’ lift a finger, I promise.
She can sit by the hearth and warm her bones, an’ I will do all her work for her.
And…if she needs to walk anywhere, I’ll carry her meself! ”
It was an amazingly helpful offer to make. Everyone in the audience nodded and murmured. “Well now, ye cannae get a fairer offer than that!” someone called out.
But this did nothing to mollify Ada. She scoffed, “The day I see ye bearing me mither’s burdens is the day I see pigs fly out o’ yer arse!”
And with those words, the redheaded healer and her mother left the great hall.