Page 54 of Sins of the Highlander

Angus took Elspeth’s hand and began a running one-sided conversation with no discernable topic, while Rob followed Hepzibah into what she called “the still room.”

“Put the shirt in that bucket,” she ordered.

Rob dropped it into some evil-smelling liquid, which turned blood red and foamed as the shirt sank to the bottom.

“A berry or two of belladonna,” she muttered as she gathered herbs from the drying bunches hanging over her head. “And some poppy. A pinch hemlock, I think.”

“Ye’ll poison her!” Rob said.

“Nay. Well, perhaps. But with luck, I’ll send her spirit to bide someplace else while we do what we must,” Hepzibah said as she pounded the herbs in a stone crock. “Are ye at all squeamish?”

“What? No.”

“I had to ask. Some men faint dead away if they’re allowed to see their women lying-in.”

“This is no’ a lying-in. I’ve dressed my share of battle wounds,” Rob said.

“Aye, but no’ on a woman ye fancy, I warrant.”

“Who says I fancy her?”

“The worry in your eyes,” the witch said. “D’ye no’ ever look at yourself when ye peer into the water sometimes? Your face is as easy to read as the signs of the seasons.”

Hepzibah scurried back into the main room and returned with a kettle. She poured boiling water over the crushed herbs and set it aside to steep.

“Ye’ll kill her with that,” Rob said.

“Or the pain will kill her.” Hepzibah drew her lips into a tight line. “The problem, ye see, is when a crossbow bolt flies, it turns. When it strikes flesh, it continues to turn. If ye pull it out, the barbs tear the meat afresh, and the wound is ten times worse. We canna draw the bolt.”

“Then how—?”

“We must push it through. Straight and even, missing the bone, of course, and any spots that will make the blood gush out.”

“She’s already lost a lot of blood.”

“Aye, but if we draw the bolt, we’ll damage so much, she’ll likely be a cripple. If we push it through, the wound may close and grow healthy flesh. If she lives, it’ll heal cleaner.” Hepzibah fixed him with an intense stare. “’Tis no’ an easy thing, pushing a bolt through living flesh. Is it in ye to help me?”

“Merciful God,” Rob said, not sure it shouldn’t count as another prayer. Then he gritted his teeth and nodded.

Chapter 18

“Drink this, dearie,” Hepzibah Black said.

“Will it end the pain?” Elspeth asked through clenched teeth. She didn’t want to cry out, but she was screaming on the inside. Her whole leg was afire. She put the noxious smelling concoction to her lips and forced herself to take a sip. The old woman had added a healthy dollop of honey to the “tea,” but something bitter in the dark cup set Elspeth’s teeth on edge.

“It will dull the pain some, but it will no’ go away completely,” Hepzibah said truthfully. “Ye’ll feel a bit drowsy, and if ye wish to sleep, that’s all to the good. Dinna fight it.”

“But I’ll still feel everything?”

Hepzibah had explained in detail what she was going to do though Angus had protested that Elspeth didn’t need to know things that might scare her. The wisewoman had argued that truth was necessary, because all truth was God’s truth, and they’d need help from every realm of spirit if they would meet success.

Rob hadn’t said a word. He just stood beside Elspeth, propping her upright with an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t resist the urge to lean on him.

“Aye, lass. Ye’ll still feel, but I canna say ye’ll feel pain exactly,” Hepzibah said as she tipped the cup up again, encouraging Elspeth to drink. “The important thing is, even if ye do, the tea will help ye forget the pain, and that’s almost as good as not having it at all, is it no’?”

Elspeth wanted to argue that not having pain at all was infinitely better than not remembering it. But with each sip of the vile liquid, her brain grew fuzzier and her tongue seemed to grow to twice normal size.

All her limbs felt heavy, and her head became too much for her neck to support.