The Fox, page 13
Chapter Fifteen
“A Ross ye say.” The old man looked him over. “I suppose those breeches were well-made. What’s left of ’em.” He laughed at his own joke.
The man pushed a bowl of fish stew in front of Caelan. “Eat. The sooner ye are strong enough, the sooner ye can go.”
“Can ye send word? Bring someone here and I will send them to my brother with a message that I am alive.”
The old man took his time lowering to a chair. He sniffed the stew. When he smiled, it was evident most of his teeth were either rotted or missing. “I am not bringing no one ’ere to my home.”
Caelan closed his eyes. He had to be patient with the wary man. Despite the old man’s strange ways, he’d saved his life.
“What about the woman who comes here?”
“Hilda is nothing but a nuisance, she’ll forget the message before getting to the rode. Besides, she’ll demand payment up-front.”
He gave up and began eating. “I will reward ye for this. For saving my life.”
The old man stood and stretched. “I’ll go fetch water to wash up.”
It was a long while later that he managed to go outside the front door. The first few steps had landed him on his back, which had been excruciating.
By the lingering fever, he suspected some of the wounds were festering.
The fact he felt warm and unbalanced confirmed that he was not well. If he didn’t find a way home and to proper healing, the rotten wounds would kill him.
The cottage was deep in the forest, not even a clear path was in sight. By the fact it took the old man most of the day to come and go, he figured the nearest creek was not close. Caelan sniffed the air and did not smell the salty breeze of the sea.
Instead, the air smelled of moss, a familiar scent of the forest. He needed to get stronger, so Caelan did his best to walk back and forth in front of the cottage. Within minutes, he was winded and weak.
Dejected he lowered to a bench.
There had to be a way of convincing the old man to get help.
“So ye didna die?” The old woman, Hilda, walked from behind a tree. She waddled on bowed legs to where he sat and fell heavily onto the bench.
“I suppose my days ’ere are coming to an end.” She gave him a bleary look. “Any food?”
“Fish stew,” Caelan replied.
The woman didn’t move. “If ye manage to get away from ’ere, live a good life.”
“Can ye help me?” Caelan asked. “I can have a nice cottage built for ye and plenty of food. Make yer last years comfortable.”
The woman considered it. “What do ye want me to do? I cannot walk very far.”
“Is there someone ye can ask to seek out my family? To give them a message.”
The woman stood and went into the cottage. Sounds of rummaging and then the smell of smoke followed by the smell of the fish stew meant she cooked.
He wondered what the relationship was between the two older people. They seemed to have known each other for a long time.
By holding to the wall and doorway, he was able to walk back inside. “Who is he? The man who lives here?”
“Wallace.” The woman stirred the pot not looking away. “My brother.”
“Where do ye live?”
The woman cackled. “I ’ave no home. He kicked me out years ago. I live where I can.”
While she ate, the woman refused to speak to him or answer any more of his questions. That the two people who could help him were so odd and uncooperative frustrated him to the point he was near to losing his temper. It would do no good to scream at the woman or the old man. They were forest people and not used to being around others.
As the woman walked out, she seemed slower. At the doorway, she turned to him. “I will try to help ye.”
Duncan’s warhorse leaped over a fallen tree with the grace of a deer. The animal enjoyed a good run and seemed to sense the urgency of their search. Already they’d been out two days in the area where Caelan was reportedly seen.
Hundreds of warriors scoured the woods, questioning everyone they happened across and still nothing helpful was found.
“How can someone disappear? The isle is not so huge that someone could hide so well,” Gideon, the youngest Ross sibling asked in an angry tone. “We must find him. We must.”
“He is not hiding,” Duncan said. “I think he is sick or injured, and unable to get to us.”
Just then he caught sight of someone hurrying past some trees. Duncan narrowed his eyes and pulled his horse to a stop. “Did ye see that?”
Gideon shook his head, looking in the direction Duncan did. “What was it?”
“I think it is a person.” He urged the steed forward at a slow pace. “Ay! Show yerself,” he called out. “We mean ye no harm.”
He motioned for Gideon to go to the right as he guided the horse to the left of where he’d seen the person go.
Moments later a woman shrieked as they appeared from both sides. The hag hadn’t bathed in a very long time. Dirty stringy hair fell over an alarmed wrinkled face. “Leave me be. I am not a bother to no one.” She lowered to the ground and scurried into a lopsided shelter.
Gideon started to dismount, but Duncan motioned for him to stay. He dismounted and bent to peer into the dimness.
“Woman, I will speak to ye from out here,” he said lowering to sit on the ground outside the flap of her shelter. “I have coins for ye to buy some food.”
“There is no village near here to buy anything. I do not want yer coin. Go away,” she replied, in a gruff tone.
Duncan could sense her fear. He understood not trusting people, especially after being mistreated for years. He’d had to learn to not show fear.
“Very well, then I will have someone bring ye food and a blanket. I just require one thing. I am searching for my brother. His name is Caelan. He may be injured or dead.”
There was a long silence. “The young man. ’E’s not dead.”
His heart hammered but he managed to keep his voice even as he exchanged looks with a wide-eyed Gideon.
“Where is he? I must take him home.”
“At my brother’s. But ye cannot take ’im.”
“Where can I find yer brother?”
It was an eternity later that the woman finally came out. She was slow getting up, but finally managed to stand. Duncan ensured to keep his distance so not to frighten her.
Giving him a once over, she frowned. “Ye are a big man.” She cackled at the statement seeming not at all intimidated by him. “I will take yer coins. Could find a use for ’em.”
Despite the fact she could be lying, he placed a stack of coins in the center of her dirt-caked hand.
“The horses cannot get there. We had to drag ’im on a blanket to see after ’im.” The woman began walking with surprising speed for her age and lack of coordination.
Gideon whistled, and a pair of guards appeared. They were instructed to remain with the horses as he and Duncan followed the woman.
There was no clear path to wherever the woman led them, making it clear why they’d not been able to find Caelan in weeks. Several times, she lowered to the ground and crawled through a thicket before going forward. The distance was not long, but upon coming to a dilapidated cottage, Duncan’s heart sank. It would be difficult to carry Caelan out and back to the path.
The woman didn’t enter, but instead stood outside the door and called in. “Young man, yer brothers are here.”
Duncan did not care whose home it was, he burst into the space to find Caelan lying on the floor atop a pile of dirty rags.
“Brother,” Caelan said attempting to get up. Duncan did not give him a chance to struggle. He pulled him up and held him against his chest. “We have searched everywhere for ye.”
“I know,” Caelan said looking up at him.
It was heartbreaking to note all the scars on the usually pristine face, dried blood plastered some of his hair down. When he felt wetness, Duncan realized there were wounds on his back, and they seeped pus.
At once Duncan was transported to what he’d been through and he schooled his expression, fighting not to break down and sob.
When Gideon burst through the door behind him, his brother was not successful and immediately his face turned a sickly green.
“Go outside and wait,” Duncan told him as he guided Caelan to sit on a chair.
“The horses cannot get through here and ye are too weak to walk. Gideon and I will have to make a litter to carry ye.”
His proud brother nodded and reached for him as if needed to be assured he was truly there. Duncan allowed Caelan to hold his hand for as long as he needed to. The entire time, he assured him that he’d be right back.
“Do not go,” Caelan said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Do not leave me.”
“Gideon!” Duncan called out and their younger brother appeared at the door. “Go back and get the guards to help. Clear as much of a path as ye can so we can carry him out.”
Gideon gave Caelan a pointed look. “I will return soon.”
They remained in silence for a long time. Caelan sitting and leaning against Duncan, while he kept vigil. Since his brother did not seem inclined to speak, he would not force him by asking questions. Whatever information needed to be said, they would get it once he got Caelan back home and cared for.
“How did ye do it?” Caelan asked much later, while not moving. “So many years.”
Duncan knew his brother referred to the years he’d been in captivity. In truth, the current situation did bring back sensations of impotence and hopelessness that he’d lived with while far away from home.
The many days of hunger and mistreatment had affected him, and instinctively he knew it would be a long time before Caelan would be anywhere close to the man he’d been before being capture.
“I am going to kill Cairn,” Duncan told Caelan. “I will not stop until he is dead.”
“I have not seen him,” Caelan replied then seemed to fall asleep. Duncan did not move, allowing his brother to rest. The trip back to their home would not be long once they figured out how to transport Caelan. They could wait for a wagon, but that could be an entire day.
Gideon returned with one guard and the resourceful young man had a solution.
“We’ll carry him to where the horses are. We’ve acquired a wagon.”
Although Duncan and Gideon used their tartans as a litter and to cover him, Caelan had to lay on his stomach to keep his wounds from rubbing against the wooden plats. He moaned a few times when they had to drag the litter through bushes, but for the most part, he did well.
Finally, they reached the wagon. The four guards insisted on removing their cloaks as well to form a more comfortable pallet. Once everyone’s clothing was placed onto the wagon bed, Caelan was lifted and laid upon it.
It hurt Duncan to move him as he winced and groaned with the pain of his wounds tearing open, but it couldn’t be helped. His brother had a lot more pain in store as the wounds would have to be washed out and cleaned thoroughly.
The sun had fallen, but luckily there was a full moon that gave them enough light to travel to the house.
They rode as quickly as they could without jostling Caelan too much.
“How far?” Caelan asked when Duncan slowed his horse to check on him. His face was wet with perspiration telling of how much pain the movement was bringing. He’d turned to his stomach, but Duncan knew it did not ease the pain much.
“Just a couple more hours. Be strong.”
By the time the wagon slowed, and he realized he had reached his home, Caelan could barely stay coherent.
It was as if his skin was on fire. Every inch of him burning. His mouth was dry despite his brothers constantly giving him water. They’d run out a bit ago, and he’d almost begged for them to stop and find some.
“We are here,” Duncan said. “I am going to ask that only mother, Gara, and Firtha be present, he said referring to the cook and housekeeper who’d served them for many years.”
“Thank ye,” Caelan replied groggily. “I do not wish anyone else to see me.” When Duncan hesitated, he took his hand. “Promise me not to allow anyone else to see me.”
Duncan nodded in agreement, understanding in his gaze. “I promise.”
It seemed a lifetime later that someone climbed onto the wagon and he recognized Creagh, the stableman. Creagh lifted his head and gave him fresh cool water.
“They come now. Yer mother is here as well.”
Caelan did his best to prepare for being moved, but he still cried out in pain when it happened.
Moments later he was installed in a bed that had been placed in the downstairs parlor. He heard voices but could not see as he was being carried by his brothers and guards.
“Darling boy,” his mother’s voice sounded. Her English accented voice strong with pain. “Put him here, we must clean him immediately.”
His stepmother’s tear-streaked face appeared next. She rubbed his arm. “We are so glad ye are back.”
“Everyone must leave the room,” the healer ordered. “Duncan, ye and another man may remain.”
Duncan and Creagh remained in the room to await instructions from the healer. Gara and Firtha hurried in with pots of boiling water.
The tartan and cloaks that covered him were removed and his breeches cut away. The healer ordered his assistant and the kitchen maids to wash him.
The water was warm and soothing. There were cuts and abrasions on his hands and face that stung when washed, but for the most part it was comfortable. When they turned him to his stomach, the healer placed a strap of leather between Caelan’s teeth.
“Bring the bucket of cold water closer, lay the oilcloths upon the floor under here.” Caelan shook with a mixture of fear and pain, unable to make out things as everything began to fade.
However, when the first splashes of water, followed by cloths hit his tender skin, he screamed in pain. The leather falling from his mouth.
“What is happening?” Darach arrived and there was a reprieve to the pain. “Stop at once!” he yelled at the healer.
Obviously, his mother and stepmother entered because they began speaking in soothing voices. One stroking his face.
“I will clean his wounds,” his stepmother said in a strong voice. “His mother will help him.”
Instead of rubbing, his stepmother blotted at his back. It was painful, but not as horrible as the scrubbing.
Little by little they continued, giving him pauses to regain his ability to breathe.
“Caelan,” Darach’s voice was at his ear. “Be strong. Ye are safe now.”
He tried his best but was unable to keep the tears from flowing. Thankfully moments later, the soothing call of unconsciousness claimed him once again.
Chapter Sixteen
“I must see him,” Glynis stared up at the guards who blocked her way into the parlor where Caelan had been brought several hours earlier.
At first, she’d listened to his mother and aunt, who asked that she remain away until they could see what state he was in. However, upon hearing the screams, she’d hurried to the room.
Unfortunately, the older women had been hurried inside and the guards were given strict orders to keep everyone else out.
She’d caught a glimpse of his foot, but nothing more. The stench of infection and blood had turned her stomach and Glynis had been forced to walk outside until the fresh air settled her.
Now fortified with a cloth that she’d soaked in lavender oil, she was prepared to go in and help. He was her child’s father after all.
“Ye cannot pass until we are given orders from the laird.” The guard looked past her, his relief evident in his expression.
“Any news?” Isobel asked him.
The man shook his head. “No, my lady. Nothing.”
Isobel nodded. “Will ye please knock and tell them we would like to know what happens?”
The guard knocked and moments later the door cracked open and Darach looked out. He walked out carefully closing the door behind him.
“Ye should have sent someone to speak to Glynis and tell her what happens,” Isobel scolded. “She is fraught with worry.”
When Darach looked to her, he saw that she had indeed been crying. Her nose was red, and her face flushed.
“I was waiting for the healer to explain. Caelan is feverish. He was whipped and the injuries on his back… some of them… have festered. Mother and his mother are cleaning the wounds right now. They are almost finished. Once that is completed, the healer plans to apply an herbal poultice.”
“Has he spoken?” Glynis asked, needing to know he was at least coherent.
“Aye, he asked that no one see him until he was cleaned. He’s been unable to do much for himself these past days and was filthy.”
“What of his injuries?” Glynis asked unable to keep her patience controlled. “What did they do to him?”
Darach shrugged. “I do not know more than what I see. His face is bruised and scarred, there are marks as if he was stabbed on his upper body and his back has been cut by a whip. I do not know more.”
They helped her to sit when her knees gave out. She could not imagine what he’d gone through. “When can I see him?” she asked barely able to keep from sobbing.
“It will be best if ye wait until morning. The healer and his helpers will be with him all night. He’s already expecting us all to leave the room so he can rest.” The laird’s tone left no room for argument.
Glynis met his gaze. “Can I just see him? Please. If only for a moment. I need to see him.”
The laird seemed to waiver and Isobel stepped in. “She should be allowed to see him.”
Finally, the laird nodded. “Let me walk in first.”
They followed him to the doorway and Darach walked inside. It was a short while later that the door opened, and her aunt emerged. “Come in. Ye must do yer best to keep from crying or doing anything that will distress him.”
Looking around her aunt, she could see that Caelan had been covered with a thin blanket. He lay on his stomach with his head turned to the side and placed on a folded cloth. His hair was wet.
