Ruth Langan - Highland Sword

Gingerly she reached down to touch the ruff of a dog’s neck, but quickly stepped back when it bared its fangs and snarled.

Even the dogs, it seemed, were ill-tempered here in this place.

“M’lord.” The door opened and the housekeeper stepped out. “Praise heaven, you’re alive. The rumors have been…” She stopped, then tried again. “I see you’ve brought…” She stared at Allegra as if seeing a ghost.

“I’ve brought the healer.” To Allegra he said, “Mistress MacDonald is housekeeper here at Berkshire Castle.”

Under other circumstances, the sight of the old woman would have brought a smile to Allegra’s lips, for she was no bigger than a child. The hem of her dress brushed the ground. The apron encircled her tiny waist two or three times, and was held in place by an enormous sash.

Merrick’s tone was abrupt. “Is there news of Hamish?”

The old woman shook her head sadly.

Merrick closed a hand around Allegra’s wrist. “There’s no need to prepare a chamber for this woman. Until my son recovers, she will not be allowed to leave his side.” His tone fell, for Allegra’s ears alone. “Don’t bother with any of your tricks, woman, for you’ll never be out of my sight.”

The housekeeper paled and backed away as they started toward her. When Allegra walked past her the old woman crossed herself and grasped the door for support.

Once inside, Allegra had a quick impression of soaring ceilings and great wooden stairs. Of tapestries lining the walls, and hundreds of candles blazing in chandeliers overhead. A dark space filled with gloom that no light seemed to penetrate. The oppression of this place weighed heavily on her.

There was no time to look around or sort through the source of the darkness, as Merrick kept a tight hold on her wrist, hauling her quickly up the stairs and along a hallway until he opened a door to a chamber.

Once they were inside a servant looked startled before making a quick bow and slipping away, leaving Merrick and his captive staring at the pale figure in the bed.

“This is my son, Hamish. He took a fall and later became feverish. Since then, he hasn’t left his bed. Heal him.”

Instead of obeying, she merely looked down at the lad. So pale. So still. “How long ago did this happen?”

Merrick shrugged. “A week. Perhaps two.”

Allegra arched a brow. “So long. And where were you, my lord?”

His scowl deepened. “On the field of battle. Dispatching invaders. When I returned home and learned of this, I vowed to find someone who could save him. Now do it.”

They both looked up at the sound of hurried footsteps. A tall, sandy-haired man paused on the threshold. His eyes widened in surprise. “Merrick? Cousin, the servants told me you were back.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you actually reached the Mystical Kingdom and lived to tell about it?”

“I’ll tell you everything later, Mordred. Right now I must see to the healer.”

Another man lumbered through the doorway and stood gaping at Allegra. Taller even than Merrick, his shoulders wider than a broadsword, he appeared to have hastily thrown on his tunic, which was un-fastened, and his boots, which hadn’t been laced. To Allegra he was truly frightening to behold. His eyes seemed vacant. His speech, when he finally found his voice, was that of a child. “You’re back, cousin?”

“Aye, Desmond. With the healer.”

Allegra shivered as the three men studied her. There was darkness here. Evil. It seemed to be all around her. It was new to her. And frightening. She’d heard about the darkness that could poison a man’s heart and soul. But until now it had been something she’d heard about only from her mother and grandmother.

Merrick’s tone deepened. “You heard me, woman. See to my son.”

Struggling to ignore the men, Allegra turned her back on them and sat on the edge of the lad’s pallet, placing her hands on either side of his head. At once she felt the heat of his fever rush through her, almost searing her flesh.

She closed her eyes, trying to sort through the jumble of images that flitted through his mind and into hers. So many people and events moving through his young mind. It left her weak, and more than a little dazed.

“Who is the beautiful golden-haired lady who hovers nearby?”

Desmond gasped and turned to his brother, who cautioned him to be silent.

Merrick’s face twisted into a ravaged mask. “You see Hamish’s mother?”

“If she has eyes the color of the sky, and a half-moon scar above one brow, then I saw his mother for a moment before she disappeared.” Allegra fell silent, attempting to concentrate, despite the distractions. There was such heat here. It was much more than mere fever. But what stoked this fire? Fear? Dread? An evil potion?

“I’ll need willow bark. Essence of balm. Wood anemone, and cool water from a Highland stream.”

Merrick struggled to rein in his impatience. “I saw you heal yourself, as well as my steed, with nothing more than a touch. What need have you of these things?”

“There is more here than a fever. More than a mere tumble from a tree. Your son lies gravely ill, my lord. Do you wish him cured, or merely brought back from the edge of death?”

Without warning his hands closed around her upper arms, dragging her to her feet. His face, inches from hers, was tight with fury, his breath hot against her cheek.

“I didn’t risk life and limb to spar with your tart tongue, woman. You’ll get everything you need. But never forget, if I find you playing me for a fool, I’ll see that you pay dearly.”

He released her and turned on his heel, shouting for the housekeeper, who came running.

“Our healer desires willow bark, essence of balm, wood anemone and cool water. See that they are brought to her at once.”

“Aye, my lord.”

He turned to Allegra, who hadn’t moved. “Will you require anything else?”

“That’s enough. For now.” Trembling from his touch, she turned her back on him and settled herself once more beside the boy. She knew if she were to check, she would find bruises on her upper arms. The lord’s hands were strong enough that he could easily snap her bones with but a single touch.

There was such violence in him. Though he kept it in check, it was there, bubbling just beneath the surface, threatening at any moment to boil over, scalding anyone who got too close.

Was his anger the cause of so much darkness in this place? Or had the darkness caused his anger?

She needed to put aside her fear of the lord if she were to open herself to the needs of his son. Still, it was disconcerting to have the man here, hovering about, weighing her every move. He was a distraction. One she could ill afford, especially since she was having such trouble concentrating.

The lad’s mother was no longer in the land of the living, but was now on the other side. Of that Allegra was certain. But from the troubled look in her eyes, it had not been a peaceful passing. Perhaps, Allegra thought suddenly, the lord had had a hand in her death. That would explain why she hovered so near, wishing to protect her son from the same cruel fate.

Allegra laid her hands on the lad’s head and closed her eyes, struggling to shut out the man and his problems while absorbing the boy’s pain. At once she was thrust back into a Highland meadow. She had a sense of the boy’s voice, high-pitched with excitement. Hamish climbing. Laughing as, surefooted as a mountain cat, he moved from branch to branch. Allegra felt the momentary distraction. Was it a flash of memory? Something or someone just above him, hidden in the branches? Whether it was man or beast, it seemed dark and frightening. Had he been startled? Pushed?