“Where is he?” he bellowed.
When Rose just stared up at him, he grabbed her arm and shook her. “You saw him! Where did he go?”
“Who?” Rose heard herself ask. She seemed numb, as if she watched everything from outside her body.
The blond man bared his teeth at her and thrust her away, turning on Ailis and her mother.
“He was here—Strathwick was here!”
Iona shook her head, her face defiant. “You’re wrong, Allister! Only this healer and my family.”
The man grabbed Ailis’s chin and pushed her headup, peering at her throat. He twisted his neck to peer at one of the men crowded inside the cottage. “You said your daughter’s throat was swollen, did you not? That she was dying.”
A man with long wet hair streaming down his back nodded hesitantly.
“Pol?” Iona whispered, her voice full of helpless betrayal.
“I healed this child,” Rose said, finally regaining her wits. “And not with magic.” She waved her hand at her wooden box. “I did it with herbs. I spent the night feeding her physiks, and as you can see, they were exceedingly effective.”
The men murmured amongst themselves. The blond man growled, and his dark blue eyes narrowed. “I know he was here! I can smell him!”
Rose sniffed delicately. “Indeed? And of what does he smell? For I can detect little above the stench of wet men and wool. And I’ve been told my sense of smell is exceptional.”
Allister turned on her with a torpid frown. “He smells like evil.”
Rose cocked her head in mock interest. “The scent of evil. Hmm. Could you describe that in more specific terms? I’m not familiar with it. I hope it doesn’t reek of sweat and livestock, for I fear you detect something on your person.”
Allister stared at her with slowly dawning insult. He looked quickly at the men behind him as if for support, then turned back to Rose. “Did you just say I stink?”
Rose gathered her things together and replaced themin her box. “No, I don’t think I did. I simply urged you to have a care. The stench you perceive could very well be coming from yourself.”
His mouth gaped, a dark hole in his tangled beard.
Rose went to the open door. “The rain has stopped.”
The morning sun burned away the fog. Droplets of rain clung to blades of grass and dripped from the thatching. Rose inhaled the scent of rain-washed earth deep into her body, then turned and smiled at the blank faces gazing back at her.
“I think this will be a fine day after all.”
And she left them, skipping over, and sometimes through, puddles on her way to Strathwick Castle.
Her mood quickly darkened when she could not gain entrance to the castle. She pounded on the door in the gate with her dirk hilt, but the porter didn’t even open his window. She circled around to the postern door and pounded on it for what seemed an eternity, but again drew no response.
She returned to the gatehouse and started over. She had to see him. Now that she knew Dumhnull was Strathwick, and had seen him perform a miracle, she would not go away without speaking to him. And she knew that if she pushed hard enough, he would see her—her friend Dumhnull would. And maybe, just maybe, he would help her. Besides, he was ill. That had been obvious when he’d left the cottage.
She stepped back, gazing up at the ramparts, hoping to catch a man-at-arm’s eye, but when they passed they didn’t look down at her. She shouted at them, and stillthey pretended she didn’t exist. She was pacing irritably outside the gatehouse when the door beside the gate opened.
It was Strathwick—or the man who’d pretended to be Strathwick.
“Come quick,” he said. He had discarded his plaid and his vest hung open, unhooked. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were wide with fear, replaced immediately with relief when he spotted her.
Rose hurried to the door, wary of this strange man but anxious to be inside the castle walls. He held it open for her, scanning the area behind her cautiously, then quickly shut and bolted it behind her.
Before she could ask him a single question, he took her arm and dragged her across the courtyard. “There’s something wrong with Will. He cannot breathe.”
“Will? You mean Strathwick?”
“Aye.”
