Ailis tied off the bandage and stepped back, assessing her work. Alisdair’s breathing had evened out, the color slowly returning to his face. She placed a gentle hand on his forehead, relieved to find no sign of fever.
“He needs rest now,” she murmured, facing the McClain brothers. “The healing herbs will help, but it will take time for his body to mend.”
Lachlan nodded, clenching his jaws. “Thank you, Ailis,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving his brother’s face. “We owe you a great debt.”
Ailis shook her head. “There is no debt. He is family. I only wish to see Alisdair recover.” She glanced at Brodie, who stood quietly by the bed, his brow furrowed with concern. “You both should rest as well. It has been a trying day for us all.”
Brodie nodded, his piercing blue eyes meeting Ailis’s gaze. “Aye, we’ll take turns watching over him. Thank you, Ailis, for all you’ve done.” His voice was soft yet sincere, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes.
Ailis laughed softly. “Do ye really think Fiona will let him out of her sight? Someone should fetch her while the two of ye return to yer duties. And Alisdair will be fit as a fiddle in a day or two.”
Skye hurried from the room to fetch Fiona, obviously understanding the import of the injured man’s wife being with him as he recovered.
Despite everything they’d done to ready themselves for the coming battle, worry lingered. Ailis mustered a smile as she approached Lachlan who had just arrived. “How goes the training?”
“The men are ready, as ready as they can be,” he answered distantly. “I wish we had another six months to train, but that’s just not possible.”
“Excuse me a moment,” Ailis told Skye before leading Lachlan into the corridor.
Outside, Lachlan’s expression turned grave. “Ailis, we need to talk.”
She braced herself for the imminent disagreement.
“The danger is closer than we thought,” he warned. “I need ye to promise that ye’ll hide at the first sign of trouble.”
“Lachlan,” she pleaded. “Ye know I will if I can. But I cannae just stand by and do nothing. I want to help. Perhaps I can use me knife from the safety of the keep. I can throw through a window!”
Frustrated, he ran a hand through his dark hair. “We need yer healing expertise, Ailis. If something happens to ye, who will tend to the wounded? Who will care for yer sisters?”
“I will be careful,” she insisted. “I will hide if it becomes too dangerous. But until then, I need to do what I can. Ye of all people should understand that. Ye wouldn’t back off from training the men, even if ye knew it would kill ye.”
He seemed to hold conflict between duty and understanding, but Ailis knew he respected her determination.
“I just want ye to be safe,” he gently assured her.
She touched his arm briefly. “I know. And I want the same for all of ye.” She wished she could walk into his arms and reassure him right there in the hall, but…it didn’t feel like the right place or time.
Lachlan straightened. “Remember yer promise.”
“I will,” she replied.
“Ailis, thank ye—for everything.” He strode away while Ailis returned to the infirmary where Skye sat rubbing her temples as she watched over Alisdair, waiting for Fiona to join them.
“Everything all right?” Skye asked.
“As much as it can be,” Ailis admitted, sitting beside her. Images of Lachlan and her sisters filled her mind, duty and desire tugging at her relentlessly.
“We’re ready,” Skye confirmed. “Ye need not worry about what else should be done.”
Ailis nodded. “As ready as we can be.”
They shared a quiet moment in the infirmary, the calm before the storm.
*
In the dimcastle kitchen, Ailis and Skye carefully tended to strips of meat hanging above the hearth. The air held a smoky, salty scent. Their task—drying the meat for sustenance—had an urgency that weighed on them. If they were unable to leave the keep for fresh meat, this would have to last them. More was brought in daily, and it was all they could do to keep up with the drying and smoking of the meat.
“We must ensure it’s dried properly,” Skye noted. “If it spoils, we’ll have naught to fall back on.”
