The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle) (6 page)

By morning, a fever consumed Iseabail’s body.

“Calum.” Seumas shook him awake. The lad was immediately alert. “Go fetch some water from the river.”

Calum quickly returned and put some on to heat. “M’lord, her fever is near unbearable.”

Seumas laid her on the ground. “The humors are playing havoc with her insides.”

“You are a healer?”

“I have learned what to do about certain afflictions.” He gave Calum a reassuring nod. “Can ye stoke the fire?”

Seumas tried to settle her comfortably, but her moans were heart-wrenching.

Calum paused at the sound. “She is in so much pain. What can we do?”

“Just as we have been doing. Her fever is the problem.” Seumas held the skin to her lips, trying to get the remainder of his water past her parched lips. “Drink, lady. Drink,” he whispered in his frustration.

The liquid dribbled down her chin. He sat back on his haunches and surveyed the area to see what was available to them.

Calum rummaged through the supplies packed on Seumas’s horse. He had not been intending to return any time soon, even before his decision to leave the mercenary life, so there was much available to him. Calum brought extra blankets to cover Iseabail. Seumas gathered the peppermint and lavender he found growing nearby and prepared a tincture to bring down her fever and a poultice to wrap around her wound.

“We must stay here until she is ready to travel.” Calum spoke more to himself.

“Where were ye two going?” Seumas exposed the wound again to clean it. The angry red skin was beginning to bulge at the sides. A sure sign of infection.

“We were looking for legal assistance.”

Seumas paused in the cleaning. “Like barristers and judges?”

“Aye.” Calum inspected the wound over his shoulder. “Someone who can help to oust the intruder from our lands.”

Strange way to put it.

Seumas did not question who “the intruder” was. Being from much further north, he was not familiar with the MacNaughton clan or any of their people. His curiosity sparked, but he let it go. For now.

Her wound ran clear and smelled untainted. The cause of the fever had to be something inside. He wrapped her leg in a new poultice to draw out any poisons.

“Ye two seem very close.” Seumas spoke quietly so as not to disturb Iseabail, who was sleeping more restfully now that the dressing was cleaned.

“And my brother Iain.” Calum glanced up at him, a smile in his eyes. “We are all three very close. We were not allowed any visitors. Iseabail especially was not allowed companions after the intruder arrived, so we spent a lot of time together.”

Seumas envied their bond, their commitment, and the trust they shared, but then hardship often bonded people. What had “the intruder” done? It must have been quite a trial for the two—no, three—of them.

Iseabail’s fever stubbornly remained. Seumas poured water on her arms and face to cool her skin. By midday, the fever had spiked, and Seumas feared for her life. Her face was deathly gray. Her sleep became unsettled, and she called out to her brother. Calum was beside himself with worry.

Seumas knew of only one herb that could help break the fever, but he did not see any in the area. He had only known it to grow further north, in the Highlands. However, he happened to know that the cook at the castle had her own stash, but he could not leave Iseabail to get it. Perhaps the boy could get back into the castle. He was young, not considered a threat.

“I am afraid she might die if we do not get her fever down,” Seumas said. Calum’s eyes were wide with fear. “I need ye to get something from the cook in the castle.”

The lad stood without hesitation. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Ye cannot be seen, Calum.” His bravery was admirable, but there was a real danger of him being caught. Seumas did not know all the details, but he knew that much. “Ye need to get into the castle unnoticed. Go in with others passing through the gates so ye do not stand out.”

Calum nodded.

“Get into the barn and tell Robbie ye need his help. He will know what to do.”

“Will I take your horse, then?”

Seumas had not thought about that. Could the boy even ride?

“Only to the edge of the field before the bridge. Then dismount so ye do not draw unnecessary attention.”

Unwavering, Calum moved to untie the destrier, and Seumas helped him mount. At first a little concerned about the difference in size between the horse and rider, Seumas was relieved to see Calum had no problem controlling the animal as he headed toward the castle. He rode quite well.

Iseabail’s moan drew him back to her side. Without that herb, he knew of only one thing to get her fever down. Submerging her body in water. The river nearby ran cold from the loch to the east. It would have to do. He cradled her in his arms as he carried her the short distance to the river. Her head bobbed against his chest. The lack of moisture on her body was a bad sign.

“Do not die,” he whispered, before settling her alongside the rushing brook.

His hand shook as he untied the cloak, exposing her dress. Again he questioned how well off this MacNaughton clan was. The material was soft against his fingers as he freed the ties and lowered her gown over her shoulders. The loose garment slid easily down her body. Either she had lost weight or the dress was not her own. When only her thin chemise covered her, Seumas took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

He had seen naked women bathe unashamedly on his travels. Women from other cultures were far less modest about displaying their bodies. With all this vast experience, why was seeing this one woman naked making it hard for him to breathe?

He shifted her body to work the chemise up over her thigh
s and expose more of her skin to the cooling water. It snagged and, when Seumas tugged on it, he found the point of a blade poking through. He worked the hem loose to reveal an eight inch dagger sheathed in leather and strapped to her thigh. It was well made and dangerous looking. Meant to inflict pain. He glanced at the woman in his arms. Why would she need a dagger? More questions without answers.

His gaze roved helplessly over her body, across the fullness of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach, the dark triangle visible even through her chemise and disappearing between her thighs. She was all but naked, and he ached to run his fingers along her soft curves. Touch the silky skin. She moaned, bringing him back to his senses.

He closed his eyes. This woman was definitely trouble. Moving more on the strength of his conviction than desire of his mind, he let her legs slip into the water. He used his hands to scoop the water and dragged its coolness along her arm, working his way up both sides. There was no response.

Finally he settled her into the river, holding her firmly. The cool water gently lapped at the chemise bunched over her hips, and she took a shaky breath, though her eyes were still shut. After another moment, the heat of her skin lessened. She took another deep breath. Moisture appeared on her lower lip. A good sign. When she started to shiver, he pulled her against him. She was dripping wet, but he cradled her, paying no heed to the dampness of his own clothes. Her fever was dropping. That was all that mattered. She moaned against his chest, and he sighed with relief.

“Iseabail, ye gave me quite the fright.” He kissed her forehead.

She murmured what could have been her thanks.

Iseabail was settled back, fully clothed and resting comfortably, on the blankets as dusk began to fall, but Seumas walked to the edge of the clearing for the hundredth time. Calum was taking too long. He exhaled through his nose and forced himself to sit down alongside Iseabail. Her color was better and her breathing steady.

He glanced at her long, dark lashes, her pert little nose, her rosy lips, and scowled. She was indeed a beauty. She was also a handful. Trouble seemed to follow her. She would never know how close to death she had come—a fever could kill quicker than an arrow. He had learned how to lower a fever through painful experiences in
Edessa. He had learned to avoid noblewomen such as her the same way.

The year he turned fourteen, there had been a noblewoman who had stirred his blood. They had met at the castle during the Harvest celebration. Her hair was a color he had never seen before—gold as wheat. Her long torso had been draped in a green gown covered with jewels and lace. Ah, the material had done little to hide her full breasts pressed against it. The most comely woman he had ever seen, she had taken his breath away, and he had fallen in love with her right then.

“Ye are a fair beauty, I would say.” When he had spotted her sitting by herself, he had seized the opportunity to talk to her. How his hands had sweated and his knees knocked.

She had not noticed him. She had even leaned forward in her chair to look around him, clearly searching for someone else.

Undeterred, he had pushed on. “Is there someone I can get for ye, fair lady?”

Seumas had not missed the look of repulsion that passed over her face as she looked him up and down.

“Who are ye?” Her voice dripped derision.

“My name is Seumas, m’lady. Is there something ye need? I see ye
are unattended, and I thought I might be of some assistance.”

Seumas could still feel the sting of her words.

“If there were ought
ye
could do for me, I believe I would rather be pierced through the heart by an arrow than accept yer assistance.” She had turned away from him then, her long nose high in the air.

He remembered feeling as if his world had ended. Yea, noblewomen were left to their own devices too much. They lacked the firm hand and discipline any well-bred creature needed. Iseabail was no different.

He heard the horse before he saw it.

Calum jumped down as it slowed in front of Seumas. “They are coming.”

“Who?” Calum ran to Iseabail’s side, tossing the herbs to Seumas, who caught them midair. “Who, Calum? Who is coming?”

“The guards from the castle.”

Iseabail shifted in her sleep, oblivious to the approaching danger.

“
Why are the guards coming? What has happened?”

“They said I stole the horse, m’lord.” Calum spoke the words quietly as he stroked the mare’s mane. “I did not mean it. I simply did not want to leave it in the barn.
It is a wonderful horse.”

Seumas rolled his eyes at Calum’s affectionate statement. “Indeed,” Seumas stated flatly.

It was time to go. Though he would have been able to clear the matter up with a few sharp words, that course of action would necessitate exposing Calum and Iseabail to the attention of the castle guards. If they felt the need to travel incognito for protection, he would not let them be seen.

“Put my things in the bag and secure them to the horse. Quickly, Calum.”

Seumas lifted Iseabail into his arms with as little movement as possible. He kicked dirt and leaves over the remains of the fire and removed any trace of the time they had spent in the area. Seumas directed Calum to get back on the horse. He had no problem finding the deer path leading further into the woods—he knew the area from hunting. There was a cave not far away, if he could just find it. And if it was large enough for all of them to hide in.

Within minutes, the sound of several horses came from the distance. There were voices, but he could not hear what was being said. He saw the cave, and they ducked inside. Calum jumped off the horse and led it further away from the entrance. Seumas wanted to stand watch at the cave mouth to see who was chasing Calum, but Iseabail came first. She moaned, her pain visible. Damn, he had thought her better.

Light filtered in from overhead. He went deeper into the cave and eventually found both Calum and the horse. Stalactites hung from the roof of the cave, their sparkling flecks reflected in the wet cavern walls around them. Calum’s mouth hung open; he was enthralled by the sight. The horse nudged his hand as if to ask for an explanation of their whereabouts. He stroked her nose.

“It is beautiful,
” Calum exclaimed, delight evident on his face. “How can they be so thin and not break?” He reached as if to touch them but thought better of it. “They are perfect.”

Seumas sat on the floor against the far wall and rocked Iseabail in his arms. “Shh,” he crooned to her. “All is well. We are safe now.”

She murmured her agreement.

He motioned to Calum to bring the skin from his saddlebags.

Calum dropped down on the ground beside him and handed him the water. “Are they gone yet?”

Seumas held his finger to his lips to silence him. He took a sip and licked his dry lips. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to hear what he could not see. Before long, he heard the men pass on by and knew they had not seen the cave.

Seumas opened his eyes and smiled at Calum. “Close call, lad. Ye must be more careful.” He handed the skin back to Calum, who took a sip and nodded his agreement. “It is my horse, ye know, so ye were not even stealing. But ye were right to run so ye would not be discovered.”

Calum nodded with a big yawn but said no more, and it was not long before he was propped next to him, sleeping snuggled up to his arm. Seumas tucked the arm around the boy, who continued to sleep, his head dropping heavily against Seumas’s side.