MacAlister's Hope (5 page)

“Only what you told me,” she answered, her lip quivering and her eyes not quite meeting Fia’s.

“Nay, you did not.” Fia poured a little of the contents of the cup into her hand, examining the color. “It looks right, but the scent is off, as if you did not use enough birch, and there is no willow in here, either, for it does not tighten the tongue.”

“I made it just as you taught me, nothing more, nothing less,” Annis said, but Fia could tell the girl lied, though she could not fathom why she would endanger the chief’s health.

“Do you wish the chief to remain ill, to be in pain?” Fia snapped quietly, not wanting the chief to hear, though even in his waking moments he seemed unaware of most of what went on around him. She stepped closer to her assistant. All her doubt, frustration, and fatigue gathered, making her words harsh and erasing any ease she had found in Kieron’s arms. “For that is what you consign him to with this!” She dumped the liquid from her hand onto the floor and the contents of the cup with it.

A lone tear trickled down Annis’s cheek, as she turned beseeching eyes to Kieron who had joined them. “I did not—”

“Surely she would not seek to hurt the chief on purpose, Fia,” he said his voice full of concern and for a moment Fia felt abandoned by her one ally here, until he gave her a quick wink. It was only then that Fia noticed he once more had the palm-sized, perfectly round milky stone in his hand, as he had the day he had come to take her away from Kilmartin. He closed the distance between himself and Annis.

“I did not want to do this, for to do so will weaken the power of this magic stone, but it seems the time has come,” he said. He balanced the stone in his palm in front of her. “Take it,” he commanded, and Annis plucked it from his hand, holding it between her thumb and forefinger as if she did not like the touch of it.

“If you place this in a bowl of water fresh from a fast-running burn just as the sun peeks over the horizon,” he continued, “and let it sit in the sun until sunset, watching over it every minute lest any animal or person drink from it, or any leaf or bug fall into it, the water will ease his pain.”

Fia started to ask why he did not use this magical stone before now, but she remembered the wink. Kieron was not abandoning her, he was aiding her in discovering the truth, though not in the way most people would go about it.

“But there is no sun today,” Annis whined, holding the stone out for Kieron to take, but he let her hold it there between them.

“Then you must make the brew again and I will let you use the stone when there is sun. Can you make it correctly this time?”

It took all of Fia’s will not to speak against this, but she was intrigued by Kieron’s approach and let him finish with Annis.

“I made it correctly this time!” Annis said, but now she did not meet the eyes of either of them.

Fia gasped, but covered it with a cough. The stone, milky when Kieron had handed it to Annis, now had faint dark ribbons running through it, as if it had been colored by the refuse of the privies.

Kieron shook his head. “She lies.”

“Nay, I do not,” Annis said, holding the still darkly ribboned stone out and shaking it as if that would force Kieron to take it. Fia looked at the stone, then at Kieron, then back at the stone. Brown, almost black, and he said she lied as if he knew it for a truth.

“Did you use exactly what I told you, and in the exact amounts?” Fia asked, testing her theory.

“Aye,” Annis replied, holding out the still dark hued stone to Kieron who made no move to take it from her.

“Annis, you did not,” Fia said, still not sure that what she saw in the stone reflected what she thought it did. “Why?”

Annis closed her eyes for a moment, then sighed. “I spilled the willow in the fire. ’Twas all burned up before I could think what to do.” Annis scrunched up her nose, as if she smelled something rotten, clearly displeased that her lie had been uncovered.

The stone shone a faint pink now, but still a thread of brown woven through it. Pink, like when Elena and she had held it before…truth? But with a lie still woven into it?

“Why did you not get more from my supply?” Fia asked, determined to find the whole truth.

The lass swallowed hard and laced her fingers together so fiercely her knuckles turned white. “I was pouring it directly from the bag when it spilled, though I ken well ’tis not the way you like it done. I sneezed and the entire bag emptied into the fire. There is no more.”

Still pink with a thread of brown.

Fia narrowed her eyes at the girl, trying to figure out where the lie still lay. She considered the chief, and how he seemed in more pain the last few hours than he had been before. She had thought it only that his condition worsened, for it clearly had not improved, but perhaps…

“When did you burn up the willow supply?” she asked, sure now that she had found the heart of the lie.

Annis looked at her feet and spoke so softly Fia almost couldn’t hear her. “When I went to make the brew in the middle of the night.”

Pink. Clear pink.

Kieron plucked the stone from Annis’s fingers and it was once more milky. “Did she cause the chief harm?” he asked Fia as he tucked the stone into the pouch at his belt.

“I do not think so. More pain, aye, but ’tis my fault for not checking her brews more carefully. I know better. I am sorry, Kieron.”

“You are not the one to be sorry. If she had told you the truth, there would be no need to check.”

“Still, I must take some of the blame. I will not let it happen again.”

“Nor will I,” he said. “Would you mind terribly if I had her kept under watch in the cottage you have yet to use?”

“Will she be punished?” she asked.

“If Tavish discovers her perfidy? Aye, but I think ‘twould be more fitting to return her to Kilmartin and let Lady Elena mete out her punishment, do you not?

“She will not believe either of you,” Annis said, sidling toward the door.

Kieron did not turn around. “If you so much as touch that door I shall break your hand. Fia, what do you think? Turn her over to Tavish who is not known for holding his temper, or give her to Elena for judgment?”

Fia weighed her options far longer than necessary, enjoying watching Annis quake for real for a change. But she could not let the woman be harmed by Tavish, no matter how much she deserved it. “Confine her to the cottage. She shall return with me to Kilmartin and Elena will decide her punishment.”

Kieron smiled at her for a moment. “’Tis more consideration than she deserves, but I am not surprised by that.” He turned to Annis. “You are lucky. Fia is more forgiving than I, but even her sentence would not hold with me if you had caused more harm to my chief than prolonging his pain, which is already more harm than the man deserves. If you had, I would happily give you over to Tavish’s temper.” He grabbed her none too gently by the upper arm and dragged her to the door. The pouch that held the milky stone bounced against his leg and caught Fia’s attention.

“Wait.” She knew the stone had turned vaguely pink when she and Elena had held it, and now it turned a sickly dark brown when Annis spoke. Kieron said she lied, and she had verified that for herself. The stone told him. A murky brown for lies. Pink for truth. She suddenly realized it was after he saw the stone turn pink, not only in her own hand, but also in Elena’s, that he had assured Tavish that she could heal the MacAlister chief, as if he knew it for a truth.

Truth. If the stone knew when someone spoke the truth…

“Kieron, can you have someone else take her away?” Excitement coursed through her, dissolving all fatigue in its wake. “I need to discuss something with you.”

He glared at Annis. “Aye, lass. Give me a moment to hand her off and I shall send someone to fetch more willow for you. I know my grandmum has a supply. Shall I summon someone I trust to sit with the chief so you can prepare the brew yourself?”

“Not yet,” she said, turning her attention fully to her patient. “Not yet.”

Chapter Four

Kieron hurried back to the hallhouse after rounding up a guard for the disgraced Annis. He then sent a lad to Kieron’s grandmother for some willow. He was anxious to get back to Fia, and not just to learn what she had in mind for the chief. In spite of the distraction of Annis’s interrogation, Kieron couldn’t shake the desire that had gripped him when he’d kissed her. The pull of it still shimmered through him like the northern lights, shifting and pulsing each time he thought of the taste of her, sweet like the first taste of honey mead, the warmth of her in his arms, her soft breasts pressed against his chest, the…

He had to stop lest he grab the woman and kiss her as soon as he saw her again, and that he could not do.

As soon as she had put her small, perfectly formed hand in his, he had known that she felt the same attraction he did. He grinned, well pleased with this day in spite of the discovery of Annis’s deceit.

He should have acted sooner with that one. He had known there was something uncomfortable between the lass and Fia from the way Fia dealt with her—cool and to the point—unlike the way she dealt with everyone else—with smiles and warmth—but he had thought it was just one of those tiffs women got into with each other, else why would Elena have sent the lass with them? If only he had tested her with the Winter Stone sooner…

But he hadn’t. At least now, thanks to Fia, Annis would be punished for her acts against the chief and for her lies. Pride rushed through him at the memory of Fia confronting Annis when she realized the lass put the chief’s recovery in danger. She was like a mother badger defending her kits, fierce and unafraid to stand between her patient and her assistant. Pouring the false brew on the floor had been a bit dramatic, but it made her point quite clear—she would not be giving anyone that brew.

He picked up his pace, jogging the rest of the way back to her side.

Moments later he burst into the chief’s chamber and found Fia at the brazier that was used to both heat the room and heat water for the chief’s care. She was stirring the embers under a small pot of water and had a larger bowl filled with oats ground to a fine powder ready to make a new poultice. He glanced over at the chief who was once more fitfully asleep.

“I gave him the last of the sleeping draught,” Fia said, rising and moving toward the bed. The fatigue that had seemed to weigh her down earlier was gone though he had only been away for a short while, too short for her to have even napped. “It was all I could do to ease his pain for the moment.”

“I’ve asked Margaret—one of the women who was taking care of him when we arrived—to come sit with him in a little while so you may make the brew yourself. I’ve sent for willow, too,” he said, joining her. He wanted to take her hand in his again, but he did not.

There was something about her that was different but he could not name it.

She smiled over at him. She licked her lips and swallowed as if she were nervous. With him? Nay, for she did not drop her gaze, nor did she look embarrassed or guilty about what had passed between them. Nay, her sapphire eyes fair glowed with excitement.

“That stone—” she nodded toward the pouch at his hip “—it helps you discern if someone lies or speaks the truth, does it not?”

Everything went quiet in his head. No one had ever known that about the Winter Stone, except the old woman who had given it to him and taught him its secrets. Everyone thought it was just an interesting bauble that he fiddled with when he was thinking hard, something he often dropped or allowed someone else to hold. No one else had ever figured out that he used it to test people’s intentions. But then he had suspected Fia and Lady Elena had seen the color change that day at Kilmartin Castle, and clearly Fia had seen it change in Annis’s hands. Fia was smart enough to put it all together.

“Aye, it does.” He would not lie to her, ever.

“Where did you get it?” she asked, taking his hand and pulling him away from the bedside back to the brazier. She knelt there and began mixing the poultice, glancing up at him with an air of anticipation.

Kieron settled on the floor facing her, his back to the wall, his long legs stretched out, and the door directly in his line of sight. He glanced over to see if the chief still slept. The gentle rise and fall of his breaths reassured Kieron he did. Kieron did not want anyone else to hear this, for then the stone would be of no use to him. Though as he looked at the bonny lass in front of him he realized ’twas possible it had already done its job.

“There was an auld woman who wandered into the village one day, not long after you and I first met.” He only now realized how close the two events were. “She was hungry, tired, and I offered her comfort with me and my grandmum the only family I have. Fortunately my grandmum was a generous soul and made the woman, Beira was her name, welcome. She was a strange woman—she traveled alone, though she was bent with age, and had only one good eye—but I was not afraid of her as the other lads and lasses of the clan were. She entertained us for several weeks, telling wonderful fanciful stories of the people she’d met and the places she had traveled, describing the landscapes she had traveled through as lovingly as if they were her children, as if she had created them herself. I helped her resupply her medicinal herbs—taking her into the hills for those things I could not beg from the goodwives of the village. One day, as we were searching for something…I cannot remember exactly what…we came upon a standing stone set atop a small hill. I had never seen it before. She stopped and said what I can only guess was a prayer for I did not understand the language she spoke, and as she stopped, the air turned suddenly cold and a bitter wind blew up, bringing the first snow of winter with it.

“I remember she smiled at me then and said, ‘’Tis time for me to leave now.’ I was surprised to find that she had brought her travel sack with her because I had not noticed it until that moment. ‘I would give you a gift before I go, young Kieron,’ she said, ‘but you must promise me to keep it safe until I return for it,’ and then she reached up to the top of her staff, and the stone seemed to leap from its place there into her hand. She told me how to use it and I have had it ever since.” He pulled the stone out of the pouch and held it between his thumb and forefinger as Annis had done before. “’Tis called the Winter Stone.”