“Thank ye, hen,” the old lady said, her faded blue eyes full of grateful tears. “I am so glad Hamish brought ye. He is a very good man.”
“He is,” Amanda agreed. “Now go and eat. There is a deer on the fire and it smells delicious!”
As she worked, Amanda heard the villagers begin to talk amongst themselves, presumably about her, she thought. However, after a while, she began to concentrate so hard on what she was doing that she became unaware of anything else. There were all sorts of ailments that needed her attention, from minor cuts and abrasions and infections to a dislocated shoulder and a broken arm that had to be straightened and splinted.
After a few more fairly simple cases, a young girl with a badly cut arm came in, accompanied by an older woman whom Amanda thought was her mother. She washed the wound, then stitched and bandaged it before pronouncing the treatment finished.
“How did you do this?” Amanda asked, frowning.
“I-I was tryin’ tae reach an apple on one o’ the trees in the castle orchard,” the girl replied. “I wanted tae bring it home for Mammy. But I fell down an’ cut my arm.”
“I see.”
Once again, Amanda felt a surge of rage. How desperate would someone have to be to risk their lives for an apple?
“Are you Hamish’s sweetheart, mistress?” she asked suddenly.
Amanda felt a flush sweeping over her cheeks. “What? No,” she answered, shaking her head. “I am just the healer who works for him.”
The young woman smiled. “He is such a good man,” she said sadly. “Everybody here loves him. If only his father hadnae?—”
Suddenly, the older woman burst in. “Shhh, Jeannie. The lady doesnae want tae hear about a’ that.” She sounded scared.
“Yes, I do,” Amanda declared firmly.
She realised she might have a chance of actually learning what had happened between the brothers that had led to this disarray.
“Hamish is always angry, and I want to know why. Why are your people hungry? Why is no one taking care of the place properly?”
The older woman cleared her throat and began to speak. “The old Laird, Andrew McNeill, Hamish’s father, married his wife when they were both very young,” she began. “An’ they were both healthy, so ye would think they would have nae trouble in havin’ a bairn, but after five years Milady had still no’ got wi’ child, an’ the Laird was desperate for a son, an’ though he was a good man, he had Struan by another woman.”
“You mean he took a mistress?” Amanda was horrified. “What did his wife do?”
“Most people think, although they cannae be sure, that Lady Flora went along wi’ his plan,” the woman answered, “because they stayed married, an’ she raised the boy as her own.”
“Anyway, three years later Milady had a son as well, but this time the bairn was born in wedlock, so he was goin’ tae grow up an’ be the real Laird, an’ that was when the trouble started. Struan stayed wi’ the Laird an’ his half-brother in the castle while they were growin’ up. As far as everybody knew they were a happy family, then one day the Laird an’ Lady both died in a carriage accident, an’ Hamish was supposed tae become the Laird.”
She sighed, then passed her hands over her face before looking at Amanda again. “But it didnae turn out that way. Struan had been secretly stealin’ money fae his father an’ had hired some thugs tae work for him. They got intae the castle one night. Hamish told us they threatened tae kill one o’ the guards’ family if he didnae open the big gate for them. Hamish an’ hismen—the ones that were faithful tae him—managed tae get out alive by the skin o’ their teeth.
Then Struan claimed the Lairdship, sayin’ it was his right since he was the elder o’ the two o’ them. He said he would burn a’ the villages if Hamish didnae give up. Hamish went tae live in the forest, an’ after a while the rest o’ us came tae join him.”
“Why?” Amanda asked, although she was fairly sure she knew the answer.
“Because Struan McNeill is a cruel swine!” the younger woman replied, her face a mask of rage. “He treated everyone as if they were dirt under his feet, an’ when we heard where the real Laird Hamish was, we came tae be wi’ him. He is a fair man—if you treat him right, he will treat you right.”
“Yes, he seems to be,” Amanda agreed.
She finished wrapping a bandage on the girl’s arm, and they both thanked her and smiled at her widely before leaving. Amanda felt more than ever that she was becoming one of the community.
A group of elders had been sitting around them in the hall awaiting their turn for treatment, and now one of them spoke up.
“The mistake was that Laird Andrew shouldnae have raised Struan,” he said bitterly. “He was too kind-hearted for his own good. Struan doesnae care about anybody but himsel’. He doesnae help people wi’ fixin’ their houses, an’ when we have bad weather, like the floods last year, he pretends it hasnae happened an’ does naethin’ about it. He is quick enough to help himself to our harvests, though!”
He spat on the ground in disgust, and the look in his eyes as he spoke of Struan was one of pure hatred. “He couldnae inherit what he wanted so he stole it! Some people think he even killed the Laird an’ Lady, but naebody could prove it.”
“Aye,” said an elderly woman. “When they found the carriage, two o’ the wheels had been sawed halfway through the rims. It wasnae the kind o’ thing that could have been caused in an accident.”
“Aye, an’ when Struan was asked about it later,” another man said, “he didnae seem very sorry.”
