Page 16 of The Highlander’s Enchanted Healer (Spellbound Hearts #2)
We did not get so much as halfway across the courtyard when the horn from the watchtower blew to announce trouble with one of our own. Immediately, hooves pounded behind us in the distance, and the voice of a frantic lad called out, “Help me, help me!”
Swinging around, I shoved Aria behind me.
A horse bearing two small figures burst into view to ride through the inner tower gates.
My hand found my sword in case of trouble behind the oncoming destrier, but as it drew near, I could see that one young lad was slumped forward on the horse, and the other lad sat behind him, holding his friend up.
“Laird, laird!” Brody’s young son, Peter, popped his head out from the side of his slumped friend. “’Tis Tomas! He’s been shot in the shoulder!”
I cursed, and behind me, Aria moved to stand beside me, just as Peter brought his destrier to a stop in front of us. The castle doors banged open, and a surge of warriors and servants alike rushed toward us. I reached up to grab Tomas off the horse, and he raised his head with a cry.
Tears streaked through smeared blood on his face, and an arrow protruded from his shoulder. “I’m dying,” he croaked and began to cry anew.
“Help him!” Peter screamed, his voice cracking with desperation and fear. “Gordon warriors shot him! At the eastern border!”
Rage exploded inside me, a white-hot fury that threatened to consume all reason.
I reached up for Tomas, and my hands came away slick with blood as I lifted him from the saddle.
The shaft of the arrow shifted, drawing a weak moan from him.
“Tomas,” Peter sobbed, sliding from the horse.
“Please do nae die, Tomas! ’Tis my fault.
I talked him into going to hunt rabbits with me! ”
“Stop wailing,” I ordered. “Peter, Tomas will nae die today. Nae if I have anything to say about it.” Even as I said the words, I realized the dire situation. The lad’s tunic was soaked with blood, and his breathing was shallow. These things did not bode well for a happy ending.
I turned to Aria, who stood frozen, her face drained of color as she stared at the blood soaking myself and Tomas. “Lady Aria,” I snapped, needing her to focus, “we must get Tomas to the healing room.”
She blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a trance, then nodded. “Aye, of course.”
“What happened?” I asked Peter as we hurried toward the keep, servants and warriors parting before us like water around a stone. Fenella rounded a corner from the garden path and swept her gaze over us. She gasped and rushed toward us. “Laird, can I help?”
I nodded. She had some experience with the healing arts, though it was not her primary duty. “Do ye ken where Isla is?” I asked. Not only was Tomas her younger brother, and she needed to be told and fetched to be with him, but Isla did have healing knowledge that could be used to help him.
Fenella’s worried gaze fell to the lad. “Isla has gone to the west bank to gather herbs to make a stew.”
I nodded as I started again toward the keep while speaking to Peter. “Why the devil did ye go to the eastern border to hunt rabbits? I’m certain yer da told ye to stay away from that land.” It sat right next to the land Gordon had recently overtaken from us.
“Laird,” Aria said beside me, her tone low, “he’s but a young boy, and he’s clearly scared.”
Even as I nodded, Peter wailed, “He did tell me, but we do nae have enough food to get through the winter with Mama with child, and Tomas and Isla have nae been able to put enough in storage for them, what with it just being the two of them, since their mama and da are dead. And with all of ye always off battling the Gordons, there have nae been extra men around to aid us. The hunting is best at the eastern border.”
The truth of his words struck like arrows piercing my heart, pride, and guilt all at once.
“I’m sorry, lad,” I said, feeling the sometimes nearly overbearing responsibility of being laird. I was doing my best to provide for the clan, but Peter was right: We were stretched too thin. “We’ve an important battle coming up, and if we win it, I can spare some more men here more regularly.”
“I ken it, Laird!” Peter said with vehemence.
A lump lodged in my throat that I had to swallow down to talk. “Tell me exactly what occurred.”
“A Gordon warrior appeared on horseback with his bow drawn, and all we had was our daggers. He did nae say anything. He just started shooting.” Peter’s voice broke and a guttural moan came from Aria.
“We ran,” Peter croaked, “but he chased us to my horse and shot Tomas. And th-th-then,” he sputtered, “a wolf appeared, and the Gordon warrior had to focus on fighting off the wolf. I—I aided Tomas onto the horse and rode us straight here.”
“The gods were watching over ye,” I said, as Thor and Allan materialized at my side. I quickly told them what had happened, and with clenched fists, Allan said, “We should ride to the eastern border and—”
“Nay,” I said, my voice low and deadly. “That is what Gordon likely wants. For us to go charging into battle full of reckless rage. Nay.” I shook my head. “We wait and stick to the plan we’ve already laid out.”
“But—” Allan said, but I shook my head.
“Nay, Brother. We will do better to wait and go into battle levelheaded.”
“Aye,” Thor agreed. “Anger makes men foolish.”
“As ye wish,” Allan relented, sounding more than reluctant to do so.
“What I want ye both to do,” I said, rushing my words because I knew time was of the essence for Tomas, “is increase the watch at our outer borders. The Gordons are becoming increasingly bold and vicious. And Thor, go fetch Isla,” I added. “Bring her to the healing room to be with Tomas.”
The men both nodded and dashed off in opposite directions, and I hurried my steps to the healing room, clutching Tomas tight to me, urging him to fight as Fenella and Aria trailed behind me.
As I walked through the halls, the sound of my footsteps mingled with Fenella’s, Aria’s and my own thudding heart.
When we got to the healing room, I was breathing heavily from my rushed pace.
Aria hurried ahead to open the door, and a warm waft of air hit me.
One of the servants had wisely started a fire in the hearth to heat the room, and a wooden table had been cleared for the boy.
I laid him down as gently as possible, watching his eyelids flutter. He was conscious but fading.
“We need to remove the arrow,” Fenella said, looking to Aria for how the lass wished Fenella to aid her.
When Aria didn’t respond, I glanced to her.
She had her hands clasped at her waist, and she stood gaping at Tomas.
She seemed in shock. Surely, she had seen many such wounds, but even as the thought filled my mind, I noticed her hands were shaking.
“Are ye all right?” I asked.
She blinked, as if coming out of a trance, her gaze clearing.
“Aye. Sorry.” She moved to the shelves where healing supplies were kept.
Her hands hovered over various jars and instruments, not grabbing anything, as if uncertain of what she needed.
But that could not be right. She reached for a pot of salve, then drew back, reaching instead for a bundle of herbs that would nae do anything for an arrow wound.
Something was very wrong. The woman who had so confidently handled Alba yesterday now seemed lost in the healing room. Suddenly, she moved away from the shelves back toward Fenella, Tomas, and me.
Fenella placed a hand on Aria’s shoulder as the lass passed her. “Have ye nae ever treated an arrow wound?”
Silence stretched for a moment as the women stood face-to-face. Aria stared at Fenella intently, and her eyes went wide, then a look of what appeared to be relief swept over her face. “Aye, I have. Just nae ever for a young lad.”
Fenella nodded, and I saw her hand tighten on Aria’s shoulder, as if she were giving her a reassuring squeeze. “’Tis a shock to the system when they’re so young, but ye are a trained healer. Ye can do this, and I can aid ye. Together, we will save him.”
“Aye, thank ye.”
“I’ll aid ye, as well,” I offered. “Tell me what ye need.”
Aria stared at Fenella with an almost questioning look, but then she said, “Bandages, please.”
“And a dagger,” Fenella added. “To widen the wound enough to remove the arrow.”
“And spirits,” Aria fairly exclaimed, as if she had just made a great discovery. “To cleanse the wound.”
I nodded and did as she bade me, collecting the things they had requested while relief flowed through me that Aria seemed in control of the situation now.
When I reached the table, I set down what they needed, and Aria drew a deep breath before picking up the dagger.
Her hand trembled a bit, and once again, Fenella squeezed Aria’s shoulder.
“Ye have this, lass. I’d offer to do it, but I my hand is nae steady at all anymore. ”
“’Tis fine,” Aria replied, blowing a silky strand of red hair out of her eyes.
When she did that, I noticed her skin looked dewy with perspiration.
She was nervous about working on Tomas, I suppose, as Fenella had said, because he was so young.
Aria set her hand on Tomas’s shoulder, her lips parted, and she gave a little jerk, almost as if his pain was her pain.
Then she bit her lip so hard, it went white where her teeth pushed the skin in, before she pressed her lips together in a thin, hard line.
I could see at the side of her jaw that there was a twitch.
Tomas took in a shallow breath, whimpering low as he did, and Aria exhaled slowly, then met my gaze and said, “Hold him still.”
I placed my hands on Tomas’s good shoulder and hip, bracing him against what was to come.