Page 6 of Following Her Highland Journey (The White Witch’s Apprentices #2)

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G iving Fia the slip in the village market was far too easy. All Adair had to do was wait until her friend was distracted, spiritedly haggling with an orchard-keeper over the price of apples, and then she would take her chance to disappear into the crowd.

The village was restless, and everyone was mumbling in dark voices about the chaos approaching their safe haven here in the eastern Highlands. They'd lived in relative peace for a long time, but it was clear that everyone feared that peace was about to be shattered. Adair focused on this entirely, knowing that it was just proof she was doing the right thing. In a way, this somehow felt like her responsibility, and she had to do what she could to help.

"I hear that refugees from the clan McNair raided are floodin' Makar Hill," Adair overheard one woman confiding in another, fear in her voice. "I hope me son is all right. He's a town guard there, and ye ken what the desperate can get like."

Makar Hill. It was the biggest town close to here, perhaps two hours away on foot. It was a long journey for a woman on her own with no horse and only a small bag of supplies to her name, but if there were refugees there, then Adair needed to be there too. They would be in need of a trained healer, and Adair would not deny it to them.

"Adair?" Fia's voice called out over the crowd. "Did ye get lost?"

Adair's heart clenched. The reality of lying to her friend, her sister, was too much to bear. She knew that Fia would be terrified when she realized Adair was missing, and perhaps waste her whole day searching. She couldn't explain to her face, though, because if she did, Fia would try to stop her. Adair could not allow that.

She pulled her hood closer around her head and chewed on her lip as she considered the next move. That was when she spotted a scrawny girl of about twelve or thirteen dressed in a ragged man's shirt that fell to her knees trying to stealthily cut the strings of Adair's bag and make off with her things.

Adair deftly caught her arm, turning to face her in one smooth move. "Ye'll not find the gold ye're seekin' there, lass," she told the girl gently.

She cringed back, flinching away as if she expected to be hit. "Please, miss! I'm sorry, miss! I just…I need…please, I'm just tryin' tae feed the bairns."

Adair's heart softened instantly. She could hear the earnestness in this child's voice. "Yer siblin's?"

"Aye, miss," the girl said tearfully. "Me wee brothers. Me mammy and daddy…they're gone. There's naebody else. And a lass of me age and stature, there's nae respectable job or even many less respectable for the likes of me. I'm too young and plain for bein' wed besides, and…"

Adair held up a hand. She reached into the inner pocket of her cloak and drew out a few coins, handing them to the girl. "Go and get yerself and yer brothers some bread," she said. Then an idea struck her. "And if ye do a small job for me, I'll double the amount."

The girl squinted at her, obviously hopeful but distrusting. "Aye? What kind of job?"

"There's a woman here in the market, she's callin' for a lass named Adair. Her name is Fia." She gave the girl a quick description of Fia's appearance. "Find her, and explain that Adair is sorry, but she had to go. Tell her tae go back home without Adair."

The girl's frown deepened, but she nodded. "I can do that."

"And explain yer situation to her. She might be able tae help."

The young girl agreed, and in return, Adair handed her another few coins. Then, after the girl had scampered away into the crowd, she turned away and started toward the road.

Would the girl deliver her message to Fia? Had the child's sad story even been true, or had she just been an opportunistic beggar? Adair didn't know and may never know, but she hoped in her heart that she'd been right to trust her and give her a chance.

As she reached the road, the memory of Mor's voice echoed in her mind. " When ye leave us, make sure ye grant us a proper goodbye." That was what Mor had said only a few days ago, and Adair had scoffed, but here she was, sneaking off without one. Things had changed, she had changed, in just a few days. First Duncan's news, and then what had happened with their unexpected visitor, had shaken her from the fragile safety of her life so remarkably so that Adair wasn't sure there would ever be a way back.

Well, that was all right. As she stepped onto the road and started on her path to Makar Hill, she steeled her resolve. If there was no way back, then she would push forward. And this time, when McNair attacked, there would be no more running away.

"Excuse me, but where do ye think ye're goin'?" a voice asked in her ear.

She turned, guilty, as Fia seemed to materialize from the crowd. "I thought ye…"

"I got yer message. Ye think I'm goin' tae let ye go off alone?" Fia demanded, sounding truly offended at the idea. "I sent that poor lass tae the usual people tae help her. We need tae go home."

Adair shook her head. "No. I must at least get tae Makar's Hill. I must see the refugee situation for meself, and help if I can. Please, Fia, ye must understand."

Fia considered for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "Of course," she said quietly. "Of course. Let's go."

"What?"

"I'm comin' with ye."

The road was long, and by the end of the second hour of walking when the outskirts of Makar's Hill finally rose before her, Adair's legs ached and her throat itched with thirst. Many times along the way, she had thought to stop for a rest, but pushed past the urge despite the pain it caused her. She did not want to stop, not until the monastery was so far behind her that she could not change what she had done.

Luckily, Fia seemed to understand. She kept pace, neither of them talking much as they went ahead. As it transpired, Fia had also asked the girl to get news to Mor, so everything would be in the open now.

Mor must be furious, or maybe just hurt, that Adair hadn't told her the plans. Adair couldn't decide which was worse. She'd face consequences when she and Fia returned in a few days. But the thought faded from her mind as she walked past the boundaries and into the town.

Chaos.

Every part of the town was filled with groups of people, loudly clamoring to be heard or wailing over a loss, some injured and bleeding, others begging, more still congregating around buildings. These were the refugees, Adair realized. There must have been more than a hundred of them, and though it seemed the townspeople of Makar Hill were doing their best, there simply was not enough space to host them all.

As they walked through the centre, Adair heard them talk of the vicious, bloody, and deadly attack they had barely escaped with their lives. Apparently, it had been led by the Serpent himself. The mention of the horrible man's name made Adair's blood run cold, and for a moment she felt overwhelmed, dizzy, almost rooted to the spot. What was she doing here?

Breathe, Adair. Breathe.

Henry's imagined whispers were a comfort to her, and enough to make her focus not on the chaos, but the individuals around her. She caught wind of the man's voice as her focus cleared.

"...some medicine, please. The bairn is only a couple of months old, it will not survive if it's not seen by a healer."

"I ken what ye say, and me heart goes out tae ye, it surely does, Grandfather. But I cannae help ye," another man answered. "The healer is busy with the urgently injured, and we've nae more hands tae spare. Come back in the mornin'."

"The bairn could be dead by then!" the older man declared. "Please, sir. I brought me daughter and son-in-law all this way tae recover from the attack. We cannae lose me granddaughter now."

Adair and Fia hurried forward, interrupting as the other man opened his mouth to refuse again. "We can help," Fia said hurriedly. "If ye'll let us."

The man's brow crinkled. "I dinnae ken that we can pay—" he started.

Adair held up a hand, interrupting him. "Please," she said. "Take us tae the bairn."

The older man must have been desperate, because he didn't ask any questions. He simply nodded and gestured for them to follow. Adair felt a pull to him, part of her finding him familiar in a way she could not quite place. He was about the same age as her father would be now, or a little older, and Adair put the strange familiarity down to that.

He introduced himself as Jock, though the way he stuttered over it made her sure that was not his real name, and led her down to a ramshackle camp set up nearby. Inside one of the hastily-erected shelters, a young woman with the same odd familiarity sat with a baby in her arms. A man sat nearby, his head in his hands. Even at a glance, Adair could see that the poor infant's skin was grey and it was unnaturally quiet.

"Da!" the woman called as Jock, Fia, and Adair entered. "Who are these two? Where's the healer?"

"We are healers," Adair explained quickly. She knew there was no time to go into details, that baby needed care now. "Give me the bairn. How long has she been this way?"

The woman clutched the baby tighter for a moment, but Jock spoke. "Hand her over, Margaret. This lassie can help save her, God willin'."

"I promise. We ken what we're doin'," Fia told them. "Please trust us."

Reluctantly, the woman handed the child into Adair's waiting arms. "She's been sick for days. She had a high fever and wouldnae take milk. Then today she went quiet, and her breathin's so shallow…" Margaret burst into tears. "I ken we shouldnae have travelled while she was unwell, but what choice did we have?"

Adair gently touched the child's skin. It wasn't cold, which was good. She carried the baby over to the table and gently laid her down, then started rummaging in her bag for supplies. "Jock, can ye get me some heated water? Fia, come take a look."

The older man nodded immediately and hurried off. Fia came over to inspect the baby on her own, and Adair knew she'd have to wait a few moments, so she turned to the younger man in the room. "Ye're the father?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Aye. What do ye need from me, healer?"

"Tell me yer name, and what happened. Why were ye travelin' with a bairn so sick?" She began to grind herbs as she spoke.

"Me wife and I are refugees from Clan Martin. I am Niall, I was a stablehand in the keep there." He grimaced. "Laird Martin and his wife were good people. They didnae deserve the horror of how they died, torn apart in public for all tae see."

Adair swallowed, horrified by his words, but forced her hands to remain steady as she began to chop a thin root, checking the baby's breathing periodically as she went. "Ye lived in Keep Martin?"

Niall shook his head. "Our home was in the village, once me father-in-law came tae join us. I wasnae in the keep when it was taken. I didnae ken what was happenin' at all until I smelled the smoke."

Fia looked up from her inspection and said, "Three fourths of the usual should do it, Adair." She glanced at Niall and added, "I'm so sorry ye had tae live through it. I heard terrible things about the destruction from some refugees closer tae where we're from."

"The women were bein' grabbed, the men cut down where they stood," Margaret whispered, her tone dark and haunted. "Even the children were…I've never seen so much blood, so much screamin', so much destruction. Da made me hide with wee Flora and he and Niall both went out tae see who they could help. They tried tae fight off the invaders, but…"

Niall took over. "Everyone we kent was dead or dyin', or so it seemed. I'm nae soldier, but I fought as best I could, until me father-in-law realized there was nae hope. We found somewhere tae hide alongside others, away from the raiders, and didnae emerge until things quieted. We went and grabbed Margaret and the bairn and we fled until we couldnae flee anymore."

Margaret closed her eyes. "The…blood…"

"We've only been here two days, but Flora took a turn for the worse." It was Jock speaking now. He'd re-entered the shelter carrying a bucket filled with steaming hot water, and he placed it down by Adair. "We've been beggin' for help, but there's just so many of us…"

Adair nodded, trying now to focus her whole mind on the task. The blood, the smoke…images of the loss of her own home threatened to overwhelm her, and realizing the grand scale now was more than she could bear. At least, though, this small task she could handle.

Fia reached into her pack and handed Adair a small pouch of white powder, which Adair allowed to dissolve for a moment. Then, she mixed the herbs into the water and drew out a small vial. Slowly, she began to drip the mixture into the child's mouth.

"Easy," Fia said. "No more than four drops for a bairn this size."

"I ken," Adair replied, though she wasn't offended. She knew Fia was just being extra careful.

A few moments later, Flora coughed and began to wail, her little lungs expanding and filling with air as she cried. Her cheeks reddened, and she flailed her fists.

"Flora! Peggy, look!" Niall yelled out joyfully.

Adair blinked. Peggy? It was a common enough name for Margaret, of course, but something nagged at Adair's mind. She scooped up the baby and turned to the mother, her eyes examining the woman anew. Margaret's hair was dark, but it seemed to be colored black with a sage or other dye mix, and now that Adair examined her she could see blonde at the roots.

She turned slowly to Jock, and though some time had passed, she saw that same familiarity in his eyes.

"James and Peggy Ashcroft," she whispered. "Ye're alive."

Margaret squeaked, but Jock simply looked at the floor.

"Ye ken these people?" Fia asked, surprised.

Adair nodded, feeling dazed. "I cannae believe it, but…aye. It is ye, is it nae, Peggy?"

There was a moment where it looked like she'd deny it, then Margaret sighed. "I dinnae go by Peggy anymore. How do ye…Lord, Adair? Is that ye? Have ye really grown so much?"

Adair couldn't believe what she was seeing. "I…I heard ye were dead. I heard Laird McNair had ye killed for…did ye really wed him, Peg—Margaret?"

Margaret smiled sadly as Adair placed the baby in her arms. She touched the child's cheek then held her close, rocking her to help soothe the sobbing. "Aye. I wedded him, three years ago, God help me. We all heard what he did tae yer poor father, and how ye were…taken. There were rumors that ye'd died too, but I always believed ye escaped somehow, and God above, here ye stand as proof. When he came for me, me father was sick. He couldnae sail. We had nae money, nae way tae survive, and so I…"

Niall put his hand on her arm. "She was miserable from the first moment. I worked in McNair's stables, and when Margaret asked me about ye, I told her how me master's lass had helped ye escape. She was sweet on me, and she was a kind lass, but the moment I saw Margaret, I was lost."

"So ye had an affair in secret," Fia surmised.

"Not right away. I tried tae be a loyal wife for years. I allowed him tae…use me as he would, hopin' tae please him. He'd hurt me, too, sometimes, leavin' me with bruises and once a broken arm." She grimaced. "And then, well, Niall was so kind…we never meant it tae go so far, but it did. And I lived me life like that for many months…until at last I discovered I was with child."

Adair looked at Flora again, and a horrified thought struck her. "Ye mean…this child…she could be McNair's?"

Her mind went to Henry and his story. He'd been born in a similar way, and left essentially without a family as a result. If Flora was McNair's child, would he acknowledge her? Or would he resent her?

"No!" Margaret insisted, so loudly that Adair flinched and the baby began to cry again. Margaret sighed and repeated herself more quietly. "No. There's very little chance. McNair used me every night that he could, but I never became pregnant by him, nae matter what."

Jock grunted, anger in his features. It must have been difficult for him to hear such things about his daughter, but he did not leave the room. "He thinks she's dead. That scum, McNair. He laughed in me face and told me she'd done him a favor by runnin' away and gettin' killed. Now he was free tae marry a better woman."

"So technically yer marriage never ended, though practically it did?" Fia asked.

Margaret nodded. "I am…not proud that I am technically living in sin. I ken I am, legally, still McNair's wife. But in me heart and soul, Niall is me husband. We had a broom jump ceremony tae join us. And I ken in me heart that Flora is Niall's."

"Not that it matters," Niall added. "Even if her blood is McNair's, she's me daughter. And ye saved her, healers. How can we thank ye?"

"Dinnae be silly," Fia said immediately. "Tell them, Adair."

Adair stood there for a moment, taking a little time to absorb all of the information that had just flooded her. "Nobody kens that ye're alive?"

"Even I thought she was dead," Jock said roughly. "Until the stable lass took pity on me one day and sent me tae find them in Clan Martin. It was only around two months ago."

That matched Duncan's story of the sailor going missing. Adair nodded and examined Margaret one more time. In the faint light, she could see scars lining the young woman's skin, and there was a tell-tale squint to her nose that suggested it may have once been broken.

She lived the life I was fated tae suffer. If I'd have agreed tae marry McNair, he would have tortured me, like he tortured this poor lassie.

It was like a weight of guilt lifted from her shoulders. Part of her had been blaming herself for her father's death all this time, wondering if she could have saved him if she'd only agreed to the marriage. But she knew now she would have been consigning herself to a fate worse than death, and when her father inevitably would have tried to save her, he would have died anyway.

"Ye owe us nothin'," she said quietly. She scribbled something on a scrap of paper, then began to bottle some vials of the potion she had created, carefully measuring out the exact amounts. "Ye must give Flora one of these vials every mornin' and one every night for the next four days. Between those hours, she may seem tae return tae her previous state. Ye mustn't worry, it's normal. Ye only need concern yerself if she does not brighten after the potion, in which case, send a message tae Fia."

"That medicine must be fair expensive, lass. Ye cannae just hand it over for free," Jock said, awe in his voice.

Adair shrugged. "Nothin' is so valuable as the life of a bairn, sir." She hesitated a moment, then drew out a few of her coins. After already gifting the child earlier, her supply was getting alarmingly light for so soon in her journey, but she knew there would be other opportunities to make money. She placed them on the table next to the vial and instructed, "Feed yerself well, Margaret. For proper recovery, Flora needs good, strong milk, and that means makin' sure ye are taken care of."

"We can't possibly take yer money!" Margaret protested. "Ye've already done so much for us!"

Adair shook her head. "Niall, ye asked me how ye could repay me for what I've done for Flora. All I ask of ye is this: live. Live, and love each other, and be happy, all of ye, in spite of him. Ye've earned yer freedom, so be free. Yer secret is safe with me, I swear it."

Niall moved forward and took her hands, a gesture that was almost like a brother showing affection to a sister. "Ye're an angel, lass. Both of ye are, and we'll never forget ye."

Fia cleared her throat. "What did ye mean, send a message tae Fia , Adair? We're headed back tae the monastery when we're done here."

Adair smiled, though her heart was sad. "I'm nae angel. But I cannot stay here. As I was able tae help Flora, I must help others. McNair has stolen freedom from so many, ruined so many lives, and sent too many souls to judgment before their time. I cannot return tae me old life kennin' that he is killin' for fun and profit."

"I'm not sure that anyone can stop him, Adair," Margaret said seriously.

"Neither am I." It was a lot to admit, but it was true. She'd faced too much now to act as though this would be easy. But this went beyond her. Beyond Margaret and her family, beyond Henry, beyond anything. All she could picture was poor Lily's grave.

Fia folded her arms. "I cannae talk ye out of this, can I?"

Adair shook her head, and Fia sighed.

"I kent it, the moment that lassie approached me. I kent ye wouldnae rest." Fia hugged her tight. "But Adair, promise me ye'll come home when ye've found what ye need tae."

Adair hesitated. "I love ye. Tell Mor I'm sorry, will ye?"

Fia's smile was sad, but she nodded anyway. "Fare well, me love. I'll stay here in Makar's Hill for a while and see what I can do."

Adair nodded, then turned back to the three others. "There's one more thing I need from ye."

"Anythin'," Jock insisted. "Ask it."

"I need directions." Adair packed her supplies and smiled at them once more, though her heart was filled with fear and determination in equal measure. "Tae Clan Martin."