Chapter 9
No Better than Them
Flora
M
y breath clouds in the cool shadows of the narrow, circular steps as I climb. The hope that I can get in and out of my rooms without having to speak to anyone else fades at the scrape of footsteps on the stone above.
Catriona, who has served the family for more than half a century, must hear me coming because she descends the staircase from the top floor that holds my mother’s solar and meets me on the landing.
With the height of a warrior and the mass of a woman who likes to eat, she wields a broom and a scowl with equal skill.
Her eye twitches, and her face is flushed. “And where have you been all morning? You’ve frightened me out of ten years’ life.”
“I’m sorry. I had a horse problem.”
“Did you, now?” Catriona says, one eyebrow rising.
“Not that you’re obliged to tell me your worries.
It’s only me who’s looked after you since you were a wee girl up to more mischief than all three of your brothers together.
But far be it for me to poke my nose where it isn’t wanted.
Mind, if you’re going to see your mam, you’d best do a better job washing the blood off your face.
Which is another thing I won’t ask you about. ”
She blocks my path, immovable as a boulder, and I know her well enough to be sure she won’t give way until she’s gotten answers.
The truth is, I no longer have the luxury of keeping her out of my decision about the Ever.
Ceapaich and Gleanngaradh have made losing Dunhaelic an imminent threat, and I’ll have to prepare the keep to stand against them as well as make sure our people survive whatever the queen may do. I’m going to need Catriona’s help.
“I’ll tell you if you’ll come with me to my room,” I say. “I need to hurry.”
Catriona’s white brows rise nearly to her hairline, but she follows me to my bedchamber and stands with her arms crossed over her ample bosom while I dig through the trunk where I keep the supplies I use for tending injuries.
That includes a pair of my mother’s silver embroidery needles, which I’ve put to more practical use on more than one occasion.
Rab stretches out to warm himself in the sliver of sunlight that slants through the narrow window.
“Well? Are you going to tell me what you’re up to?” Catriona asks.
I explain—mostly, at least—while I gather a supply of tinctures and potions into a small bag to take with me. I leave out General Mora’s letter and the way the Ever attacked me.
When I finish, Catriona steps back and makes the sign of horns in the air to ward off evil. “And here I’ve believed you were the sensible one in the family.”
“That doesn’t say much, but you can see why I need your help.”
“I can see you’ve lost your mind.” Scowling, she hands me a fresh cloth to dip into the basin of cold water on the dresser so I can wash my face.
Scowling at my face in the mirror, I wipe away a smudge of blood on my cheek that I can only hope was too small for Tormod and Fergus to notice. Then I pick up the battered leather bag to leave.
Catriona steps in front of me again. “Oh, you’ll not be going just yet,” she says.
“Are you seriously meaning to tend the Ever and leave him at Padraig’s until he recovers?
With only the two of us to go back and forth to tend him while the queen’s nightmares—and who knows what else—could descend on us at a moment’s notice?
Assuming, of course, your Ever’s not already dead or waiting to kill you the moment you go back to help him. ”
“He’s not my Ever, and I’ll take him up Glen Colm to hide in one of the shieling huts in the summer pastures as soon as his fever’s broken. I’m planning to position supplies there anyway, in case we need to send the women and children somewhere safe and out of reach.”
“I don’t imagine the Ever will take kindly to sleeping in a herdsman’s hut.”
“Then he’s welcome to find his own hovel to hide in,” I retort. “Pride won’t save his head.”
Catriona gives me a look that makes me squirm, then shakes her head.
“You don’t like to admit it, but you know as well as I do what must be done.
Keeping the Ever alive is as good as a trip to the gallows for the lot of us, and there isn’t a single one of the outbuildings that offers a place for him to hide if someone comes looking for him.
Not to mention that he’ll be weak as a lamb and have no chance to save himself.
It’s kinder to kill him quickly, really.
Faolan can help if you’re too squeamish. ”
The thought of killing the Ever—killing anyone like a wounded animal—makes my stomach roil. Never mind that I had the same thoughts earlier.
“Killing for convenience would make us no better than the Everfolk are,” I snap. “We don’t change ourselves because we’re threatened. I’ll find somewhere safer to hide him. I just need a quiet minute to think.”
“Your mother’s been asking for you,” Catriona says.
“I’m on my way to see her now.”
Catriona’s silence follows me to the threshold. I glance back, and she stands looking down at the floor, her hands clasped together and her brows slanted into lines of worry.
My anger washes away, leaving me feeling limp. I turn back and smile with what I hope looks like reassurance. “Catriona, I know it’s a risk, believe me. But it’s the right thing to do, and we’ll survive. I promise I won’t let you down.”
“It’s not myself I’m worrying over. Aye, well.
” Catriona gives a small shrug, then shakes her head, and her expression softens.
“I’ll speak with the others while you’re up with your mam, and don’t give me any of your arguments about trying to protect them.
Any of us would give our lives to keep you safe, same as you would for us.
The bodies in the Wood will need burying, and Padraig’s house will need cleaning once you’re done fixing him up. ”
“Are you sure?”
“Do you think we don’t see that you barely sleep with all the extra work you’re doing?
I hate to say it, but if you’re determined to help the Ever, you’d best bring him here.
You won’t need to wear yourself out flying back and forth to watch over him, and we’ll all be here to do whatever you want done to tend him. ”
I shake my head because that’s not an option. “That’s too much risk.”
“No more than if he’s found at Padraig’s or anywhere else on Domhnall land. And don’t you dare feel guilty.” Catriona follows me out of the room. “You did what you thought was right, my lamb. That’s no more than I’d expect from you.”
I blink at her and swallow past a tightening in my throat. Catriona’s always been more likely to fuss at me than to show affection. I don’t know what to do with this version of her, and that says more about how frightened she must be than anything else.
I’d love nothing better than to retreat somewhere out of sight and fall apart, but I can’t. Not while people are counting on me.
“I won’t let the Ever be our downfall. I swear that on my life,” I say.
“Then let us choose which burdens we want to carry and what price we’re willing to pay.” Catriona reaches down and tucks a damp curl of hair behind my ear.
Rab comes to rub his head against my hip and whines softly in his throat until I scratch him behind the ears. I turn and walk away with guilt clawing at my stomach.
With Rab at my heels, I emerge from the shadowed stairwell and step into the solar that my father renovated for my mother when he first brought her to Dunhaelic.
Reluctantly, I have to admit that Catriona’s right.
The Ever might be an even bigger danger to us at Padraig’s house or any of the outbuildings than he would be here.
Not that the keep is safe, either. Despite its size, the keep has few places where we could hide him. The buildings could all be searched, and the more unlikely places would all require strength or stamina that the Ever doesn’t have.
My mother will be the biggest hurdle. At the moment, she’s seated in the pool of silvered light beneath the large, round window, working her embroidery.
But there’s no predicting her moods, where she’ll go, or who she’ll speak to.
The priests come with no warning, not to mention smiths, tradesmen, messengers…
There are no safeguards on my mother’s tongue, so one wrong word could raise suspicion.
“There you are,” she says, patting the bench beside her. “Did you need to bring that filthy beast in with you?”
I shoo Rab out to the landing with a murmured apology, and he lies down with his muzzle across the threshold.
My mother sets the embroidery hoop aside. “Come talk with me, child. You know how I hate my own company, and you’re always flitting here and there these days.”
The idea hits me then, a reckless but possible solution for the Ever. I turn it over in my mind as I sit with my mother, examining it from every angle. The scheme is so foolish that no one would suspect it. Which is why there’s a slim chance it could work. Provided the Ever will play along.
“How would you like to have a visitor, Mother?” I venture cautiously.
She claps her hands together. “I adore visitors. Who is it?”
I press a finger to my lips and start to lay the groundwork. “That you will have to wait and see. You know how difficult travelling all this distance to Dunhaelic can be.”
“Is it your father who’s coming?” Her eyes glow at the thought, and her cheeks go pink with hope.
And I could kick myself, because I should have seen that coming. “I’m sorry, darling. No. It’s not father, and not the boys.”
“Your father and Rory should have been home ages ago. Oh, and the twins! I long to see them. I wish they wouldn’t take so long coming back.”
My heart wants to crack into dust behind my ribs. No matter how often I explain that they’re all dead, no matter that she was there when I brought home what remained of the bodies and we laid them to their rest, she can’t accept their loss. Her mind refuses to retain the information.
“Your embroidery is beautiful today,” I say, changing the subject. “Is this something new you’ve started?”
“Oh, do you like it?” She beams at me brightly.
“It’s a cloth for the high table. We’ll have such a banquet as has never been seen when your father comes home!
Hundreds of our people will want to attend.
And we should commission new hangings as well, don’t you think? The old ones have become so dreary.”
“New hangings would be lovely.”
I listen with half an ear while she chatters about parties and embroidered cloths. Meanwhile, I turn the ruse over in my mind until I’ve found solutions for nearly every potential problem.
After leaving my mother, I search out Catriona and find her in the courtyard speaking to Morag. After I explain what I have in mind, they both laugh until tears pour down their cheeks, but they agree the scheme might work.
They run off to gather the clothes and accessories we’ll need if we’re to have any hope of pulling it off, and they’re back before I’ve saddled my favourite mare to ride back to Padraig’s house.
I hate involving the household to this extent, and for even more reasons, I hate to involve my mother.
Yet whether they’re conspirators or innocent bystanders, no one will be safe until the Ever leaves.
For now, he is still the enemy, and it’s better to keep him close.