“Seema!” She cried, dropping to her knees beside her. “What has happened?”
Seema answered by turning away and retching onto the leafy ground.
“Och, have ye the same affliction as Anna and Fina?”
Seema didn’t speak, but weakly nodded.
“Can ye ride?” Moira asked. They needed to get her to the inn and mayhap call for a healer.
Errol approached and gently lifted Seema off the ground and carried her to her horse, helping her settle atop and ensuring she was secured and wouldn’t topple over.
“I dinnae think she should ride alone. She doesnae look steady. I fear she’ll hurt herself further.” He lifted her again and moved her to his horse.
Moira’s eyes widened. “For certs, ye doonae expect her to ride with ye?”
He gave her a droll look. “Do ye have a better idea? She cannaeride with ye. If she falls o’er, ye both go down. She’ll be safe riding with me.”
Moving to Moira, he helped her mount her own horse. When everything was secured and he tied a lead from Seema’s horse to his own, he urged his horse forward, and Moira followed.
Worry had her chewing the inside of her cheek. Their luck had been both good and bad. Aye, they found the first, and maybe, second clue. But more than half of their original party had fallen ill with some sort of affliction. She hoped Anna and Fina were recovering well. And wished the same for Seema.
As they rode, no one else crossed paths with them, until they arrived in the village. Suddenly, the landscape was bustling with people moving to and fro. Selling food and wares from carts lined up along the buildings.
Moira noticed the looks they were receiving, and a sliver of wariness slid down her back. She supposed it must strike them as odd to see a MacLeod and a Hart traveling together. They both wore the colors of their clans. But no one approached them as they made their way to the small inn and that put her at ease.
They stopped their horses at the small stable off to the side of the main building. Two young lads rushed forth to take their horses. “Feed and bathe them well.” Errol ordered and tossed them each a coin. Their eyes lit up as they bobbed their heads.
“They will have the best, my laird.”
Moira found it interesting that Errol didn’t correct them at the mistitle. Instead, he was concentrating on getting Seema inside along with their bags.
“Can ye walk, lass?” He asked gently.
Moira rushed forward to help Seema steady herself.
“I can,” she answered, but grasped Moira’s arm in a death grip so she didn’t fall.
Arms laden with all their travel bags, Errol led the way insidewhere they were greeted by a cheery, old man.
He smiled warmly and welcomed them inside. His demeanor changed when he looked at Seema, worry creasing his brow afore focusing on Errol.
“We need a room and to sup.” His eyes slid to Seema. “And a healer if ye ken of one?” Errol asked.
The man nodded and snapped his fingers. Another young lad stepped forward and then ran out the door to fetch the healer.
Grabbing two of the bags the man headed up the stairs, motioning for them to follow. “I’ve only the one room available and there is only one bed.” He looked over his shoulder.
“That is fine,” Errol answered as if it were natural.
Moira’s heart skipped a beat as they entered the room where they would be spending the night. There truly was only one bed and it wasn’t large enough for three. She looked nervously at Errol, but he was engrossed in conversation with the innkeeper at the room’s door.
She led Seema over to the bed and helped her lay down.
“Mayhap the healer can give ye a tisane to ease the roiling of yer belly,” Moira said hopefully, pulling off Seema’s boots.
Seema groaned. “A healer is no’ needed. I doonae think I can eat or drink aught right now. The mere thought makes me want to retch.”
“Och, dear. That cannae be good.”
