MacAlister's Hope (10 page)

“They will not like it that you are a wanton who spread her legs for a man as soon as she was out of their sight. You will no longer be the one who can do no wrong in their eyes.”

Fia blinked, swallowed, and blinked again, trying to figure out what to say, how to fix this. She loved Kieron and he loved her. They was sure they would wed if they could, and she was sure she was not the first lass to share her bed with a lad before any vows were made.

“Why?” she finally asked. “Why would you tell them any of that?”

Now Annis tried to smile, but hatred pinched her lips into something closer to a grimace. “Why? Because you are not perfect and ’tis time they knew it. ’Tis time everyone knew it.”

“No one is perfect,” Fia said carefully. “I certainly am not.”

“Nay, you are not, and now you shall learn exactly what that feels like unless you tell Elena what I told you to say. If you do that I will keep what I ken to myself. If you do not, or if you recant your glowing praise for me and my skills, I will be forced to reveal your shameful secret.” She leaned back on her heels and crossed her arms. A sneer marred what Fia had always thought was a lovely face, but now she knew for certain it masked a dark heart. “Do we have a deal?” Annis demanded.

Fia said nothing as she tried to work through all the ramifications of Annis’s threat. If Elena and Symon discovered her—she could not call it an indiscretion, for that would diminish the love that they shared—if they discovered what had transpired between Fia and Kieron she would lose the respect of the two people who were foster parents, mentors, and friends, to her. Or she could lie to them about Annis. A heavy knot formed in her belly, making her ill at the thought of lying to them, especially when Fia knew Annis would likely put other people, sick people, in danger from the woman’s lack of care and empathy for her patients.

Finally Fia nodded, grateful that she did not hold Kieron’s Winter Stone in her hand to expose her lie. She didn’t know how she would manage to walk the line between Annis’s pair of threats—her time with Kieron exposed, or seeing Annis continuing to assist with the sick and injured—but she knew she would never lie to Elena and Symon, no matter what they might think of her actions.

“Now that was not hard to do, was it?” Annis turned abruptly and headed back to the camp leaving Fia angry, uncertain, and alone.

Fia was rolling up her pallet, still trying, as she had all night long, to find an honorable way out of the trap Annis had thrown her into, when the pounding of a horse at full gallop sounded along the trail from Kilmartin.

“Fia, Annis, get back in the trees,” Brodie said.

Kieron had already drawn his claymore and stood ready to defend them. Brodie quickly joined him as Fia slipped out of the clearing where they had camped and into the deeper cover of the forest. Annis did the same, though far enough away that Fia did not have to look at her or bear the smirk that had not left the woman’s face since their conversation last night.

The horseman galloped past them without slowing, but before he had gone far he pulled the horse to a harsh stop, and returned. Kieron and Brodie stood their ground even as the horseman approached.

“I seek Fia of Kilmartin!” the man called and Fia recognized the voice immediately.

She dashed out of the tree cover and ran to Kieron’s side. “Jamie, what is wrong? Is it Elena?”

Jamie dismounted quickly. “Aye, ’tis the Lady. The bairn is coming but something is wrong and the midwife cannot seem to help her. Symon bade me fetch you from Kilglashan village immediately. Thank the saints you are here. Take my horse,” he held the reins out to her, “he will be faster than your old mare and there is no time to lose.”

“Fia cannot go alone,” Kieron said, only now sheathing his sword.

“Come with me, Kieron,” Fia said as she accepted a leg up onto the big horse from Jamie. “The others can follow behind when they are ready.” But she did not wait for his answer. She gripped the horse’s mane in her hands as hard as her fear for Elena gripped her gut. Leaning low over its neck, she kicked him and they took off. All the while she whispered desperate prayers for Elena’s survival.

It wasn’t long before she heard the pounding of hoof beats coming up behind her. She glanced back only long enough to ascertain that it was Kieron, and even though her anxiety over Elena remained, there was a tiny thread of comfort sliding through it at the knowledge that he was with her.

They rode hard for Kilmartin. The horses had to slow to a quick walk as they climbed the steep path out of the glen, past great gnarled trees almost bereft of leaves now that winter was so close, and up to the top of a small ben where the castle sat overlooking the wide shallow valley. When they reached the relative flat they urged the horses back to a fast trot, Fia shouting, “Clear the way! Clear the way!” as they raced through the gate tunnel and skidded to a stop in the bailey. She leapt off the horse, dropped its reins to the ground, and ran full tilt up the stairs and into the kitchen tower, then up the interior turnstile stair to the chief’s chamber. Symon was pacing the corridor, an anxious expression on his face she had not seen since she was a tiny girl.

“How is she,” Fia asked as Symon enveloped her in a hug, then held her by her shoulders far enough away to look her in the eyes. Despair and frustration filled his gaze, but not grief.

“She lives, but it is not good, Fia. The midwife says the bairn is stuck and refuses to be born. She has tried to turn it, but there is not room.”

“Not room?”

Symon closed his eyes and sighed. “The midwife says there are twins. Fia, my Elena has been calling for you since well before dawn. No matter what happens, she will be eased to ken you are here.”

“I will do everything I can for her, Symon, I promise you that.”

“I ken it well, Imp. My Mairi is in there with her, too. Be strong for her, for both of them.”

Fia nodded, the memory of Elena’s vigil by Fia’s mother’s birthing bed slamming through her.

“When you know what you need,” Symon continued, “tell me and I will see it brought to you immediately.” He hugged her again.

Before Fia could open the door she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Kieron standing there. She had been so focused on Elena and Symon she had not realized that he had followed her into the tower.

“Take this,” he said, folding the pouch that held the Winter Stone into her hand. “Use it as you did for my chief. I know you can help her.”

Fia’s eyes welled at the faith he had in her. She rose up onto her toes and kissed him quickly. “My thanks,” she said quietly. “Will you wait for me? Please? I would say goodbye before you leave.” She knew her voice quavered but there was nothing to be done about that.

“I will not leave this corridor until I see you again,” he said.

She managed a smile, relieved that she did not have to say goodbye yet, then slipped into Elena’s chamber.

Chapter Ten

Kieron should never have promised Fia that he would stay in this corridor, this tiny space crowded by a large warrior sick with worry. Kieron tried not to pace. Hell, he tried not to breathe. The last thing he wanted was to draw the attention of Symon.

Ever since Fia had disappeared into Elena’s chamber, the man had been stalking back and forth in front of the door. It seemed like days had passed, but Kieron knew it was more likely only a few hours. The murmuring of women’s calm voices could be heard, like the cooing of doves in the cote on a summer’s evening, but every now and again a cry of pain would punctuate the murmur and Symon would whirl toward the door from wherever his pacing had carried him, and stand as he did now, one palm against the door, the other fisted by his side. He rested his forehead next to his palm and Kieron could hear whispering from the man, like prayers, weaving through the women’s murmurs.

A pale-haired lass of seven or eight peeked around the corner of the landing, near Kieron. Her eyes grew big as a loud guttural moan came from Elena’s chamber, and Symon growled, “God’s bones, make it end!”

“Is she dying?” the lass whispered to Kieron, though she did not take her eyes off Symon at the far end of the hallway. Tears trembled on her pale lashes, but she blinked rapidly as if to keep them from falling.

“Nay, lass,” Kieron said, the need to comfort someone finally finding an outlet. He went down on one knee in front of her so he would seem less imposing, less scary. He took one of her tiny hands in his to draw her attention away from her chief. “My grandmum says some bairns take a long time to come into the world, and others are quick. This one is in no hurry.” He smiled at the girl and she nodded, her eyes fixed on his now, as if he was the only safe place to look.

“I was sent to see if the MacLachlan would like a meal brought up,” she whispered with a childish lisp.

Kieron glanced back over his shoulder and found the man in question scowling at the two of them. So much for not drawing his attention.

“I think ale would be good,” he said to the lass. “I do not think he is of a mood to eat just now. Would you bring enough for me, too?” She nodded once, then she blanched as her gaze raised, fixing on something…or someone… behind Kieron. “Go quickly now. Your chief is thirsty.”

She spun without another word or look and disappeared down the stairs as if the Devil were on her heels.

“’Twould seem you have a soft heart for wee lasses with pale hair.”

Kieron rose slowly, not wishing to startle the agitated man who stood behind him. He turned.

“I do not like seeing anyone afraid,” Kieron said, keeping his voice pitched low and calm, “wee lasses or braw men.”

The man glared at him for long moments. Another groan sounded down the hall from Elena and Symon closed his eyes as if he shared the pain with his wife.

“Fia will do everything she can for your lady.”

Symon’s eyes popped open. “I ken that, but Fia does not have Elena’s healing gift.”

Kieron bobbed his head. “But your daughter Mairi does, aye? And Fia can help her if Mairi must use it?”

“Elena will not let Mairi use it. She is afraid for her. She is afraid for Fia, too. Elena almost died trying to save her own mother in childbirth. Fia lost her mother in childbirth, too, in spite of my Elena’s gift.” He stabbed his fingers through his hair, pulling it harshly back from his face. “Elena is too stubborn for her own good in this.”

“I think you underestimate Fia,” Kieron said. “She will do whatever needs doing to help Elena.”

“She will not gainsay Elena, though,” Symon said as he paced back to the door.

Irritation crawled over Kieron, so he followed Symon down the corridor. “Fia will do whatever is necessary, even if that means marshaling Mairi’s gift, or going against Elena’s wishes.”

“You do not ken that wee lassie as well as you think you do, even if she does honor you with her kiss.”

“Aye, she honors me, but I still say you do not ken her true strength of will. That one will do whatever is necessary to deliver your bairns and keep your wife well.”

“I think I ken the lass better after fourteen years than you do after a single sennight.”

Kieron shook his head. “You ken the lass she was—small, shy, yet wise beyond her years.”

Symon’s attention focused on Kieron for the first time that day.

“I ken the woman she has become,” Kieron finished.

“And what sort of woman is that?” Symon’s voice held a lethal edge, as if he sensed just how much Kieron knew Fia, the woman, but Kieron did not hesitate.

“I have seen her overcome her doubts. I have seen her stand up to Annis’s treachery.”

Symon went completely still. “Treachery?” he asked. “What has that woman done?”

Kieron told the chief the whole story, glad to distract Symon, if only for a little while.

“And you brought Annis back with you?”

“Aye. Fia thought it best if Lady Elena meted out the punishment. Even in her anger, Fia saw some hope that Annis might learn to be a better person with Elena’s guidance rather than Tavish’s ire.”

“Fetch her here.”

“Fia thought Lady Elena—”

Symon cut him off with a glare and Kieron spun to fetch the wench, determined to return before Fia could find him missing, for he did not want her to think he did not keep his word. He quickly located Annis in the great hall, filling her belly with hot porridge, and flirting with a young warrior.

“You chief requires your presence,” he said as he pulled her up from her bench and almost dragged her back up to the corridor to face Symon. He only wished Fia could see this. He shoved Annis ahead of him to face her chief.

Symon’s eyes were narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest. Anger radiated off of him, making Kieron very glad he was not the focus of the man’s wrath.

“What do you have to say for your unworthy behavior?” Symon asked.

Kieron could see Annis’s back stiffen.

“Fia told you?” She mimicked the chief’s posture, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin. ’Twas not the reaction Kieron had expected from her. “She did not tell you everything, I wager.” She glared over her shoulder at Kieron and he could tell by the satisfied glint in her eyes that something was wrong. “Did she tell you,” she said as she slowly returned her attention to Symon, “that she lay like a wanton with that one?” She stabbed a thumb in his direction as Kieron’s breath stopped.