“Och, so ye finally awaken?” Gideon’s voice came.
Breckin turned his head a little to see his comrade. “Thirsty.”
Gideon held a cup to his mouth. “Not too much for the nightshade still weighs heavily upon ye. ’Tis a miracle ye survived it.”
“Nightshade?
“Aye, ye were given a potion with nightshade in it. Do ye not remember what happened?”
Breckin pressed his hand over his face, hoping to alleviate the muddled sense that stayed with him. If he’d been given the poison, he suspected that was why he felt no pain. The dulling aura of the nightshade disallowed him to feel the discomfort. “I was injured and yet I feel no effects.”
“Aye, and fortunately for ye, she did not do too much damage. She struck your chest, just above your heart. A wee bit lower and ye would be at a glorious feast in the afterlife.” Gideon waggled his brows and smiled.
“Bollocks. There would be no celebration for me in the hereafter.”
Gideon chortled. “Mayhap not, but in the underground, ye would be most celebrated and welcomed.”
His comrade’s banter forced a scoff from him. “Eva?” Breckin tried to shift from the bed which he now knew to be in Willa’s healing cottage. “Is she…? Was Eva harmed? I recall her being there…”
His comrade pressed him back. “Ye are in no condition to go seeking your wife. Best lay back and let the awful potion wear off completely. Eva was harmed, och she is back at the longhouse, resting. Willa is tending to her with Clare’s aid. I am afeared that her wound became infected and she is under the spell of a fever. At least that was as it was yestereve.”
“I need to see her.” Breckin’s voice rasped and he motioned for more drink.
Gideon appeased him and allowed him more than a few drops of water. “I was commanded to see to it that ye stay abed for now. Your legs will not support ye, Breckin, so do not argue with me. And I promise ye, I will not be carrying ye.”
His breath came heavier as he considered what happened between him and Danella. He remembered receiving the missive from her asking to meet him by the torch. She’d wanted to discuss his war on the MacLaren Clan and hoped to get him to abate. When he refused to back down, she became agitated and spoke harshly. Though now, he couldn’t recall what she’d said. Her demeanor at the time, though, certainly alluded to the fact that she was the cause of the troubles then and now.
Breckin closed his eyes and tried to shut out the memories of that day and prayed that Eva survived. He refused to lose her and needed to get to her. But sleep weighed heavily upon him; he struggled but eventually it claimed him.
When he awakened from slumber, he peered into the darkened room. Willa wasn’t there, and he could hear no sounds within. Hisstomach grumbled with hunger and so he shifted his legs aside and sat on the edge of the cot. With a press of his face, he decreased the rest of the grogginess that held him restrained. He wondered briefly how long he’d lain there.
“Willa?” No response came.
He stood on his feet and was a little unsteady. Trudging through the cottage, he made it to the small kitchen area and found half a loaf of hardened bread. Nearby sat a pitcher of warm ale. He poured himself a helping, dunked the bread into it, and took a bite.
Breckin needed to regain some strength and once he filled his stomach, he felt much better. Although his stomach twinged and he thought he’d lose the battle, he took slow breaths until he recovered. He searched around for his garments but there was nothing wearable in the small cottage. His tartan lay across the bottom of the cot and he reached for it. He wrapped it around his body and grabbed his belt to secure it. Once he was modest enough, he yanked the door open.
Darkness set the sky in a dismal aura of a brisk chill. Breckin ignored the cold and walked toward the bridge and crossed it. Aymer stood in the center of the lane on the other side.
“Laird, good to see ye about.”
“Aymer, all is well?”
His guardsman nodded. “Aye, Gideon went on sentry duty with a group of soldiers. He will not return until the morrow. Do ye need me for anything?”
“Aye, has Danella’s body been retrieved from the ravine?” Breckin wanted to get her off Buchanan land at the soonest.
“She has, Laird, and was wrapped and put in the cold shack until ye told us what to do with her. Should I have her returned to the MacLarens or the Stewarts?”
He took a brief moment to consider the ramifications of both situations. If he sent her back to the Stewarts, William would probably come seeking answers for his wife’s death. If he sent her back to theMacLarens, they were sure to take up arms against them. The latter was preferable since he wanted to confront the MacLarens and end their scuffle. War was inevitable with either of the clans, if not both.
“Await Gideon’s return and have him come see me. She will be returned after I speak with him.” Breckin nodded firmly to his comrade and set off down the lane toward the longhouse. The closer he got, the more he grew concerned for Eva.
At the door, he hesitated a moment, took a deep breath, and then entered. Inside, a fire crackled in the kitchen hearth. He found Clare pouring heated water into a bowl.
“How is she?”
His aunt glanced up but continued her task. “She sleeps. Her fever abated and the infection has lessened with Willa’s tender care. Eva shall live, Breckin. Worry not for her.”
