Authors: Elizabeth Boyce
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Historical
She expected the pain when she placed her foot on the stone floor, but only coldness greeted her.
After drying, she allowed Elva to pull a clean shift over her.
Her teeth chattered as she made way to her bed. Climbing inside, Elva then tucked the sheets and coverlet to her chin.
“Elva?” She struggled to keep her eyes open. “Tell me why—about the barrel.”
“’Tis a present,” Elva answered her with a beam. “A present from me, child.”
“Thank you.” Kaireen yawned. Vaguely she wondered why her handmaid would gift her with a present for it was months past her birthday, or how she could afford something so costly.
She heard Elva’s chuckles, but drifted away unable to open her eyes or respond. Her handmaid’s laughing echoed in her skull.
Kaireen’s heart beat faster at Elva’s next words, but denial drove into her stomach. “When you and Bram use the bath together, I will accept your thanks then. ’Tis a wedding present; I suspect you will enjoy with your husband for many a time to come.”
Chapter Twelve
Feoras was in good spirits. His spy had visited him in the woods, and she brought back his father’s sword. She assured him that no one knew it was gone for now. He would need to be quick about the killing or it would be discovered missing in a few days unless a distraction was created. Like a fire.
Inside the witch’s home, Feoras cracked his knuckles. He smirked at the crone who cowered before him. Her fist clutched her wool skirts as she backed further into the cottage.
In her clumsiness she knocked over a stool. Pity, she was the only one he knew in these parts. Others would squeal and use his visits to trap him. But he knew how to keep her from exposing him.
She reminded him of a wounded doe. Her sunken dark eyes darted about, as though in hope for a savior.
“Why is it not working?” he whispered and she cringed. He held back a smile. Whispers made imaginations run wild. She knew to fear his soft voice.
“M-my lord, I-I know not. The medicine should have done the course.” She squeaked.
His fist hit the stone wall and she whimpered. “I am displeased.” Blood seeped on his knuckles.
The fluid warmed his hand. Pleasure released through his body from the pain. Though his bleeding was not nearly as intoxicating as watching others bleed while squealing like stuck pigs.
Tears flowed on her gaunt cheeks. “Sorry, my lord. Give m-me another chance.” She fell on her knees kissing his boots. “Please, I will make medicine…stronger medicine.”
He seized her by her grey hair. Her face scrunched in pain. Never did he want to touch her flesh with his. Yet in his haste for his part of the battle, he had brought no weapons with him.
As if she saw his debate, hope sprung into her eyes. To answer her, he kicked her away.
In the corner, she cowered. Her wrinkled hands tried to shield her head.
He raked his fingers through his sandy hair. Leave it to a witch to call poison medicine. He cracked his neck to loosen the tension.
Maybe his father was blessed as a baby? No, she did not try hard enough. Do your best. The oath his mother taught him. Soon he would reunite with her.
His gaze fell on the baggy woman. Results are what counted, not effort. He would force her to do better.
She must try harder. So he snatched the witch from the dark shadows to persuade her.
Chapter Thirteen
Kaireen found Elva nowhere. She called for a servant girl to search for Elva in the kitchens, the great hall, and the courtyard. But the servant came back empty-handed. Desperate, she requested the servant to dress her. The girl tripped, dragging the yellow gown through rushes and dirt along the way. Kaireen gave the handmaid a forced smile.
Dusk and dinner would be within the hour. Nothing would ruin her evening. She had finished the kitchen chores on the morning meal, and now had the evening free before plunging ahead in the dyes.
Last night she dreamed of Bram. Of his kiss and that she could not get close enough to him. They had shared a bath together, then he laughed as she pulled rushes from her tangled hair. Why did she dream about him? Perhaps these hard labors had affected her mind.
She shifted her feet as the handmaid struggled to throw the gown over her head. Kaireen squatted to ease the girl’s vain attempts.
Dressed, she thanked the girl. After she licked her fingertips, she rubbed them against the fabric. But the stains smeared rather than lessened. She saw the girl’s tears welling in her eyes.
“No, ’tis fine. My clumsiness brushed me into a dirt wall if anyone questions.” She touched the girl’s nose. “’Tis not your fault my maid has lost herself.”
Kaireen slipped on her leather shoes when her door flew open. The door struck against the stone wall with a boom, making Kaireen jump.
Elva stood before her hands on her hips as though upset at her mistress and not the other way around.
“Where have you been?” She held her arms to her sides to keep from shaking. How dare Elva barge in without apology?
“No time. Fetch the mistress her cloak.” She snatched Kaireen by the arm and then dragged her along. “If you had waited a moment longer, I could have you better suited for the ride.”
The young handmaid carried her pile-weave cloak, puffing as she chased them down the hall.
“Ride?” Kaireen stumbled. “No, the hour is late. Are you ill?”
“Wait too long and you will lose your way.” Elva tugged her arm harder.
Kaireen skidded to a halt. “I demand as your mistress you explain yourself at once.”
“Fire.”
Kaireen paled. She sniffed the air, but only the scent of tonight’s meal of roast chicken, ham, and onions answered. “I smell no smoke.”
“Not here, my lady.” Elva grabbed her cloak from the serving girl and then tossed it across her mistresses’ shoulders. “At your sister Shay’s.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. She rushed forward, following Elva outside.
Men raced to ready their horses. Already mounted, Bram gave her a court nod. In the distance, fire lit the western sky. Her sister’s home was on the edge of their land. It was about an hour’s hard ride away.
“They will need every hand on this one.” Elva said.
Kaireen opened her mouth to speak, but no sound arose.
Then Elva pushed her horse’s reins in her hand. She noticed her horse had three blankets tied to the back of the saddle.
“To the fire.” Bram led the men.
Kaireen mounted. Her sister and her niece were alone, she thought. Her sister would not be able to face another misfortune. Already she had a difficult pregnancy. The child was due next month. Loss of her husband had nearly killed her. If she lost her daughter or the babe…
Kaireen shook her head and clicked her tongue to urge her mare ahead. They rode for miles. Flames glowed against the sunset. They heard the screams of their neighbors, heard the fire devouring the thatched roofs.
Kaireen halted her horse. Not caring that her skirts flew past her shins, she dismounted.
After she untied the blankets, she ran to soak them in the well. Fire and black smoke engulfed Shay’s roof. Men and women filled buckets with water. Though they tossed the water onto the other burning homes, the fire hissed back at them.
Kaireen scanned the area for Bram, but saw no sign of him. The first blanket drenched, she tossed it to a man nearby. While she dunked another blanket into the well, Bram rushed forward to the fire as the first one to smother the flames.
Despite the night’s breeze, Kaireen was sweating in her gown. Mixture of sweat and well water darkened the yellow cloth. Now she wished she had waited for her handmaid, she would have been dressed better for the ride and subduing these flames.
Fire popped sparks which hit the pine rafters of Shay’s home. Kaireen heard a wail behind her. Holding the soaked blanket to her for protection, she whirled around. The wail was like the cross between a wind howl and a sound of a tortured soul who no longer knew it was dead.
On the outskirts of everyone battling the flames, Shay cried. Her sister sat rocking back and forth, her eyes riveted to the flames. She followed her sister’s vision to the burning home, and a scream stuck in her throat.
Blackened by smoke, Bram stood in the doorway with a body draped across his arms. He stumbled forward, carrying the child. Steam rolled from the wet blanket covering them both.
Kaireen ran to him.
As she passed the crowd, she threw the wet blanket to open hands. Then she hiked up her skirts and sprinted to Bram.
Coughing shook his body. But he limped forward, her niece steady in his arms. Kaireen stopped before him. Unable to speak her disbelief of his actions and what she might say, she pursed her lips closed. No one ever entered a burning home. Those who did never made the journey out again.
Shay appeared beside her, and snatched her daughter from him. Megan was sobbing, but seemed fine.
“Thank you.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead and held her tight.
Bram shrugged. With an eyebrow raised, he watched Kaireen. Heat inflamed her face and she turned on her heel back to the well. Knowing he risked his life for her niece tugged at a piece of her heart. Part of her wanted to fall into his arms and kiss his foolish brave face. Then her resolved choked the notion away.
She dipped her third and last blanket into the water. Beside her Bram dunked his blanket in the well and it hissed from the heat of the fire. He sprinted toward the house to help the others dowse the flames.
Once again, she heard Shay’s frantic shrieks.
She dropped the blanket when the words rang clear through the night.
“Douglas, my husband!” Shay cried. “Asleep, inside. Hurry, before the fire kills him.”
“No.” Kaireen waved her arms. And dread filled her until she thought she might collapse from the weight.
But Bram, covered in a soaked blanket, headed back inside the fire. He knew not Douglas was dead. Died months ago.
Clansmen and women stared at Shay. They knew the truth. Kaireen watched as he limped back inside.
Beside her sister, she skidded to a halt.
“Douglas!” her sister cried.
She grasped Shay’s shoulders and shook her. Her niece clung to her mother’s charred skirts. If Shay were not with child, Kaireen would have slapped her.
“He is dead.” She fought the urge to slap her anyway when Shay broke into more wails. “You sent another man to his death looking for a ghost.”
Did fate punish her? She had saved Bram’s life once. Now, anguish knifed her heart. Her throat closed. Without thought she ran toward the burning cottage. Someone tossed a drenched blanket across her, but she did not stop.
Near the entrance, the heat coursed through her. Her feet did not stop as she raced ahead inside, bumping into Bram’s back.
“What?”
A flame curtain fell behind them, sealing them in.
Now that she was here, panic seized her words.
The thatched roof had collapsed, blocking the doorway. There was no escape. If they stayed they would be cooked alive, only the blanket kept the sparks from licking her flesh.
Steam rose from the blanket in the heat. She realized if not for whoever tossed the soaked blanket her skin would melt like a beeswax candle. It was good that Bram already had a wet blanket when he rushed inside.
She had hoped to run inside the burning home and get Bram out. But with the fire hissing at them from the pieces of roof on the stone floor around them, she doubted they would survive. Soon the smoke would suffocate them and the fire would gnaw on their bones.
She shuddered. This was not how she wanted to die.
Chapter Fourteen
Black smoke poured through the rooms. Kaireen’s eyes burned. Coughing wracked her and she slumped over. The weight of the doused blanket and the heat felled her to her knees.
“Kaireen?” Bram knelt beside her. “Are you mad, woman?”
“No.” She hacked through coughs. “My sister is mistaken.” Fire snapped the thatched roof. “Her husband died in battle.”
“I realized no one was left too late.” He heaved her to his side. “Now if you think perishing in fire will prove your love to me, I disagree. I will settle for you showing me with lovemaking on our wedding day.”
She was about to protest, when crashing thunder answered. Fire burst through the roof and a piece of timber banged.
Shocked by the sound, Kaireen ducked. But the enflamed timber crashed down across her skirts.
Greedily, the fire scorched her clothing. Thank goodness her legs were not trapped. She needed to push the log off and she would be free.
But the log would not move. Heat pulsed through her hands.
Coughing beside her, Bram tried to move the log. “’Tis too heavy.”
“Leave me here.” She clenched her fist. It would do no good if he died because of her selfishness. She would have purgatory forever. “Others may come back with you to help.”
He ignored her and patted the flames dancing along her skirts with his bare hands. Since he was stubborn, she hoped God would forgive her. Her hands ached as she too beat at the flames. With a grunt, Bram tore at her gown.
“’Tis my favorite.”
“No one will care when the fire burn you and it to a pile of ashes.”
Though she knew he was right, she could not keep the frown from her face. He ripped her skirts away and half of her shift. Wasting no time, she scrambled up.
No man had seen this much of her without clothing. She tugged on the remaining pieces of her shift to hide her legs from his sight.
As if not caring, Bram’s hands thrust her forward into a back room. Smoke billowed around them, but she thought they entered the kitchen.
Shay’s kitchen did not have any windows or doors to escape. They would die here.
Thoughts ran through her mind. If she ever got free of this mess, she would flay her sister until she knew the feel of burning from the inside of her bones and out. Kaireen’s skin prickled in the heat.
Smoke burned her throat. With each breath, soot tickled her lungs. She doubted if she would be able to ever breathe without choking again, much less talk. Maybe this was her punishment for speaking her mind so much, instead of bowing to everyone as was expected.