Demon Laird (Legacy of the Mist Clans) (21 page)

“If ye need them
to make sharper turns, use the commands
haw
and
gee
,” he said. Lia did so and discovered the team very responsive. He had been right, they would do their jobs if she only allowed them. They stopped before the stairs of the keep, and a page stepped forward to hold the team while Ronan set the brake.

“Ye
did well, lassie,” he said as he slowly made his way down from the wagon. He extended his hand to her.

She wrapped the reins around the brake handle as she had seen him do earlier. Ronan’s smile grew as she accepted his hand and jumped off the wagon.

“That was quite enjoyable,” she said, grinning at him. “Perhaps we can do it again?”

“Of course, my
bonny lass.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, but this time she realized he was leaning heavily against her. They walked to the base of the stairs and he looked up at them, his smile vanishing. “Why is ascending so much more difficult than descending?”

“It is simply because you are weary,” she said
, but she too looked at the stairs in concern. “Why must they be so narrow? I cannot help you ascend because they are not wide enough for two people.”

“’Tis the intent of the design,” Ronan said. “The keep must stan
d strong in the midst of war. If the enemy breaches the gates, they will only be able tae attack the keep one man at a time. If ye observe the loopholes above, we can drop things on their heads, and the narrow, uneven stairs make it easier for them tae fall off the edge.”

She nodded but looked at the stairs warily. “That still does not help our predicament.”

Ronan gazed at the stairs and his expression hardened. He straightened his shoulders and drew a deep breath into his lungs. Before she could stop him, he
began to ascend the stairs, leaning heavily on his cane but putting his left foot forward, following it with his right, in an even cadence.

Lia gritted her teeth and followed him.
Please don’t let him fall, please!
If he tumbled backward, she might be able to stop his fall, but if he pitched over the side, there was no way she would be able to hold on to him.

But Ronan ascended the stairs with the
same determination she had witnessed before. He reached the door to the keep then threw it open and stepped inside. As Lia followed, she watched him stagger slightly and she stepped forward, again catching his arm and pulling it over her shoulders.

“Impressive.”

Ronan gave her a halfhearted smile but his face grew even paler.

“MacGrigor?” Alba called timidly.

He mustered a bolder smile for her. “Aye, lassie?”

“James said he would meet with ye anon.”

“Excellent.”

She studied him nervously for a moment. “Are ye all right?”

Lia’s heart soared. If Alba was worried over him, this could be an excellent sign.

“I…” He hesitated and glanced at Lia. “I fear not, lassie. Is Aidan about?”

“Aye,” she said and nodded. “He awaits ye in yer solar. I will fetch him.”

Before Ronan could reply, she fisted her skirts and bounded up the stairs.

“I’ll be damned,” Ronan muttered and looked at Lia, grinning broadly. “Ye have worked miracles lass.”

She gave him an arched look. “I’m not done yet.”

Ronan’s laugh sounded deep and strong.

“Ronan,” Aidan called. “Are ye all right?”

Alba descended the stairs behind the young MacGrigor. Lia caught her eye and smiled. “Thank you, Alba.”

“Aye, Alba,” Ronan said quickly. “Thank ye, lass.”

Alba blushed and hurried back to the sick in the great hall.

“Ronan?” Aidan asked again.

“I fear I need yer assistance, brother. I place too great a burden on the healer’s shoulders.”

Aidan glanced at her, his eyes wide. “What have ye done
tae my brother?” he whispered. He moved to Ronan’s other side, and together, he and Lia helped Ronan up the stairs.

The church bells rang for
Nones as they crested the last stair.

“Are ye hungry, Ronan?” Aidan asked.

Ronan simply glanced at him and Aidan laughed.

“Never mind, I shall fetch our meal.”

“Alba said ye awaited my return.”

“Aye, brother, my birds be singing again.”

“Then ye shall tell me of their song as we eat.”

They helped Ronan
to a chair at the small table in his solar. He sat back with a sigh and stretched out his sore leg, rubbing it gingerly. Lia pulled a chair closer.

“Let’s take your boots off before it swells more. Aidan, while you’re below stairs
, can you douse some linens in cold water?”

“Aye, lassie,” he said and darted out the door.

Ronan leaned back against the chair but sucked in his breath sharply as the wounds on his back made contact with the hard wood. He cautiously readjusted then rested his head against the chair back. “Will my stamina ever return?”

“It will,” she said, feeling his forehead.
She scowled; his fever was low, but it was definitely still there. She paused and studied him a long moment. “Ronan, you really need to rest.”

“I will, but my belly be gnawing at me again.”

She nodded slowly but worried over what news Aidan had for him.

It didn’t take long for Aidan
to return. Lia took the doused linens while Aidan placed their food on the table. She gently draped them over Ronan’s sore leg. He sighed softly as the cold gave him immediate relief.

“See?” she said, grinning up at him. “I told you they would help.”

“Aye,” he said giving her a gentle smile. He rested his head against the chair again, but this time he closed his eyes, no longer able to hide the exhaustion that etched deep lines in his face.

“Perhaps this should wait,” Aidan told Lia.

“Nay,” Ronan said before Lia could reply, although he kept his eyes closed. “If ye dinna tell me, I’ll only worry myself tae death.”

Aidan sighed and placed a plate of food before Ronan.

Ronan’s nose twitched and he blinked open his eyes, gazing at the bowl hopefully, but as he stared at it, his hope seemed to fade.

“What’s wrong?” Aidan asked. “I thought roast pheasant was one of your favorites.”

“It… it used tae be,” Ronan said softly. “Perhaps my tastes be changing as I get older. But where are my manners? Thank ye, Aidan.”

They ate in silence
, but Lia found herself keeping one eye on Ronan. He ate slowly, but the color did not return to his face as she had hoped. His eating slowed even more until he dropped the bird’s carcass onto his plate and pushed it away only half-finished.

“Ronan?” she asked.

He waved her off, refilling his wine cup. “Sometimes my stomach needs tae catch up with me,” he said and took a drink. “I will get hungry again in a moment.”

Curious
,
her thoughts whispered.

“Aidan, I can stand no more suspense.”

Aidan nodded and swallowed his bite, also taking a drink from his wine cup. “I ken ye were quite vexed with MacLaren about the blighted grain.”

“Aye,” Ronan said tightly, his expression turning flat.

“Gordy gave me some news. Ronan, MacLaren didn’t grow that grain. He purchased it as well.”

“Purchased it?”

“Aye. He purchased it with the intent tae sell it all along and hopefully make a bit of profit. Remember, everyone suffered shortfalls last harvest. Gordy does not believe MacLaren kenned the grain was blighted.”

Ronan rubbed his eyes.

Lia watched him closely. His hand shook ever so slightly.

“Who did he buy it from?”

“Gordy dinna ken, but he is working tae find out.”

“Make sure he discovers the truth, for if
MacLaren did ken the grain was blighted, I’ll feed him his own entrails.”

Aidan nodded. “And Gordy had more information for us.”

“Aye?”

“Longshanks is on the move again.”

“Damnation, and le March?”

“Moves with him, but here is the strange bit
: Gordy said another of my birds told him le March wishes tae attack MacGrigor.”

“Considering I escaped him, that is no surprise
.”

“Longshanks refuses. It seems some in his army
have heard tale of a Demon Laird. They worry about their men. The soldiers fear what they dinna understand.”

Ronan sat up sharply. “Just as our own clan,” he said. His brow furrowed. “I must think on this, Aidan.”

Aidan nodded and took another drink. “That be all the news I have for ye today.”

“Thank ye
, brother.” He looked to his meal again, but where Lia hoped he might eat some more, he simply pushed the plate farther away. “I fear I dinna have the stomach for this right now. Perhaps I should follow the lassie’s suggestion and rest.” He removed the damp linens from his leg and rose, leaning heavily on his cane.

Lia looked at Aidan in alarm and he matched her gaze.

She rose from the table, taking a breath to call out to Ronan.

Ronan lurched forward slightly, then his
body froze and he ground to a halt. He started to look over his shoulder at her but suddenly pitched forward.

Thank God Aidan was faster. He reached his brother in an instant and stopped his fall.

“Ease him down,” she said.

Aidan did so as Ronan’s body jerked out of control. Lia knelt with them, working
to deflect Ronan’s arms so he would not strike her or Aidan. Aidan sought to trap him, but Lia stopped him.

“Nay,” she said. “Do not try
to hold him down. That only risks injury to both you and him. Just keep him from striking you or himself.”

Tears burned her eyes as she watched th
e fit take Ronan. Froth formed on his lips and he gagged and choked. “Turn him on his side,” she said and helped Aidan.

Aidan’s face was almost as gray as his brother
’s, but Lia knew they could do nothing except wait for the fit to pass.

It not only continued, it grew worse. Ronan’s arm escaped Aidan’s grasp and flung outward, striking Aidan full in the face and knocking him backward. Aidan shook his head and rolled back to his knees, working to block his arm again, lest Ronan strike himself or Lia.

Lia’s heart raced; she couldn’t remember seeing a fit this bad. It seemed the longer it lasted, the more severe it became.

“It’s never gone this long before,” Aidan said through clenched teeth.

“It will be all right.” But she couldn’t stop herself as a tear rolled down her cheek. What was wrong with her? Never had she acted like this. But Ronan’s suffering tore at her soul. He continued to flail and Lia reached out, gently stroking her fingers through his hair.

“Ronan,” she called softly. “Peace, Ronan, you are safe.”

She repeated the words, keeping her voice soft and even.

Finally
, the fit faded and Ronan fell limp against the wood floor. He sucked in a ragged breath followed by a second.

“Praise be,” Aidan whispered.

Uncaring of what Aidan thought, Lia gathered Ronan in her arms and pulled him tight against her. “It’s all right, Ronan,” she whispered rocking him gently. “You are safe. You are at home.” But no matter her words to him, she could not stop the tears that streamed down her face.

Ronan finally understood why Lia had scolded him so much in regard
to overextending himself and not minding the healing wounds on his back. Two days had passed since the last fit, and although he remembered nothing of it, Lia and Aidan had told him of its length and severity. It had frightened them, he knew, and if he could remember any details, it probably would have frightened him too. As it was, he had not yet truly recovered from it.

Weakness plagued him, so much so he barely had the strength
to rise from his bed and sit at the table in his solar. He resolved to heed Lia’s warnings more diligently in the future. He hated being trapped but could not find the strength to clothe himself, let alone negotiate the stairs. This would not happen again, he decided.

Aidan sat with him while Lia attended the ill in the great hall and the village. While she still wanted
to watch and observe him, accompanying her was now out of the question. Instead, she gave that duty to Aidan, noting his powers of observation would be put to good use.

At least the ill seemed
to be constantly improving, with fewer in the great hall and in the village. Soon, Ronan would have her all to himself. His lips tugged upward as he realized he could live with that.

“What?” Aidan asked.

Ronan waved him off. “Any new songs from yer birds?”

Aidan ducked his head and fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. “Lia
didna want me tae tell ye.”

“Aidan, if it be something that affects the clan—”

“If it be something dire, I will tell ye,” Aidan said quickly. “But until ye are stronger, she doesna want ye vexed.”

Ronan sighed and took another drink of his wine, reminding himself of his promise
to listen to her warnings.

The church bells rang for
Nones and Ronan’s belly rumbled. “What be takin’ her so long?”

Aidan shrugged. “She mentioned something about
preparin’ yer meal today.”

Ronan scowled at him. “She said the wounds on my back are improving. There are only two
bein’ stubborn with their festering.”

“Aye, I’m certain ye will be feeling much better as soon as the fever leaves ye.”

A soft knock, one that Ronan instantly recognized as Lia’s, sounded. “Enter.”

Aidan rose and Lia opened the door.

Ronan blinked in surprise as Alba stepped through the door along with Lachlan, both carrying roundels with a great assortment of food. Lia carried two more.

“What be this?” he asked, trying
to ignore how Alba eyed him warily.

She placed the food on the table and bobbed a quick curtsey. “Is there anything else ye be
needin’?”

Ronan looked
to Lia.

“Nay, Alba, thank you.”

“As ye will.” She darted out the door.

“At least she actually entered the solar this time,” Ronan muttered as
Lachlan set the roundels he carried on the table.

Lachlan
grinned at him. The lad was proving more courageous than the others, even agreeing to help Ronan shave in the morning, although Ronan marveled that the lad barely knew how to do it himself.

“Thank ye,
Lachlan.”

He nodded and also left the room.

Lia handed her roundels to Aidan and closed the door.

“What is this
, lassie?” Ronan asked. “I haven’t seen such a variety of food since Christmastide.”

“You mentioned that as you gr
ow older your tastes are changing,” she said and stepped next to him. “Choose whatever you might fancy.”

“Cook must be vexed with ye,” he said, eyeing the food
. He was hungry and it smelled wonderful.

“Nay, for I cooked it myself.”

He looked up at her in surprise. “Another talent ye havena shared with me?”

She laughed softl
y. “Many who came seeking Sueta’s help did so with their families accompanying them. Sometimes those family members cooked for us and since Sueta places such import on diet, both she and I learned how to cook various things from all over.” She paused, her smile growing. “I promise you, with my cooking, you will never grow bored.”

He grinned up at her
, but his gaze returned to the food and his stomach rumbled even louder. “And ye simply want me tae pick… anything?”

“Aye.”

His gaze swept over the food again. He spotted a thick stew in a bowl, a rabbit that had been spitted and cooked over open fire, a game bird that had also been cooked similarly, but then his gaze landed on the fish. It was a large filet, deboned, but it had been cooked differently from what he was familiar with. He reached for it. “What is this, lassie?”

“Trout from the river, caught this morn,” she said and sat next
to him. “But this is pan seared. The trick is to get the pan hot enough that when I put the fish into it, it cooks all the way through almost instantly but not so hot that it burns. It will blacken the outside just a bit. I then added roasted vegetables for extra flavor.”

Ronan took a tentative bite
; the fish fair melted in his mouth, various flavors dancing over his tongue. He hesitated and stared at Lia.

Her smile faded and she watched him. “You…
you do not like it?”

“Like it?” he asked softly and grinned at her. “Lassie, I love it.”

She instantly relaxed and her smile returned.

Ronan chuckled softly and returned
to his food. The fish was lighter fare, and he looked at the other dishes Lia had provided. He thought to try another, noting that Lia and Aidan had not yet moved to claim their own.

“Will
ye two no’ eat?”

“We will,” Lia assured him. “I want you
to have free choice here.”

He nodded and looked again
to his plate. “I thought I might grab another but… honestly, lass, I think this will suit me fine.” He glanced at his brother, who stared at the food, nearly salivating.

Ronan bit back a laugh, looked at Lia
, and inclined his head toward Aidan. “Now I just feel cruel.”

Lia’s hazel eyes sparkled with mirth. “Go ahead
, Aidan.”

“Thank ye,” Aidan muttered and grabbed the game bird. He attacked it with a ferocity that made Ronan laugh. Yet he too hesitated and stared at Lia in awe. “Lassie, this is amazing.” He paused and glared at his brother. “Remember our conversation when this plague first started…
at the base of the stairs?”

Ronan’s humor instantly faded. “Aye,” he said softly.

“She stays, and that’s all there is tae it.”

Ronan had
to bite back a laugh lest he choke on his food. He winked at Aidan. “Aye, brother.”

Lia looked at them in confusion. “Pray pardon?”

“Never mind us, lass,” Ronan said. “’Tis only my brother doing what he does best and giving me grief.” He jabbed his eating dagger at the remaining plates. “Now, lass, eat. I’ll not have ye go hungry.”

****

Over the next few days, Lia finally brought Ronan’s infection under control. The two most stubborn wounds on his back were clear and closing nicely. She documented these results as well as the food he chose.

Every meal offered a variety
, and they always allowed Ronan to choose whatever he willed before she and Aidan made their choices. Anything left over they gave to Alba, Lachlan, and Marta, much to their delight.

The only thing Lia worried over was the lack of grain in Ronan’s diet. But until the clan was able
to purchase more, there was little she could do about it. But grain needed to be a staple.

“How are you feeling?” Lia asked as she changed the bandages on his back. He no longer needed them on his chest.

“Much better, lass, thanks tae ye.” He paused and looked over his shoulder at her. “Mayhap I can go below stairs today?” He had asked the same question daily.

Lia saw his energy returning and had no desire
to keep him cooped in one room, knowing what it did to him. “For a time,” she said, smiling at him. “But you must promise me you will not allow yourself to become overtired, otherwise you will find yourself cooped in here longer.

His entire body trembled under her hand. “I vow it, lassie. This last fiasco has taught me a valuable lesson. I shall heed
yer words in their entirety.”

“Good,” she said, knowing his resolve
would not last for long.

She helped him with his tunic and boots, noting the enforced captivity had also lessened the swelling in his leg. He might not even need a cane
were it not for the stairs.

****

Ronan descended the stairs and stopped in shock. There were no more ill lining the floor; cups and medicants no longer graced his high table. “Lassie?”

“The last of the
sick have recovered, Ronan,” she said smiling up at him. “There are only two in the village remaining, and they are well on their way to returning to full health.”

He gazed at her, his throat growing tight. He had been so cruel
to her. He swallowed hard. “Lassie, if it had not been for ye—” His voice cracked and he sucked in a breath. “Thank ye.”

Her beautiful hazel eyes grew liquid as she gazed up at him. “I wish I could have done more.”

“Nay, Lia,” he said firmly, his fingers catching her chin. The pad of his thumb swept along her jaw and he again noted how soft her skin was to the touch. “Ye did all ye could; ye saved many lives.”

“Except…” She paused and a frown
marred her brow. “Where is Connell? I have not seen him in days.”

Ronan also frowned. It was not like Connell
to remain out of sight for so long. “Lachlan,” he called to the lad as he crossed the great hall. “Have ye seen Connell?”

The lad hesitated. “Nay,” he said thinking for a moment. Then his head came up and his face paled. “The dead…
they were too many for us to bury in the churchyard. The priest consecrated new ground outside the walls to bury them. The last I saw him was there… days ago.”

Ronan spun around and headed for the door.

“Ronan,” Lia, said tugging on his arm. “Please, you will overextend yourself.”

“He is my friend,” Ronan growled.

Lia hesitated only a moment then fell in step beside him. “And mine.”

The new cemetery was closer
to the village than to the castle, and out of the way. If the keep should fall under siege, it was unlikely the burial grounds would be close enough for the enemy army to desecrate. Ronan quickly realized, for him, it was not within walking distance.

“I should have fetched the wagon,” he muttered
as his limp grew worse.

Lia moved
to support his other side. “Ronan, I think I see Connell.”

Despite his lame leg, Ronan lengthened
his stride.

Indeed
, Connell was at the burial grounds, on his knees before three crosses. From the looks of him, dirty and disheveled, his long hair tangled and a scruffy beard growing from his chin, he had been there for some time. They quickly approached. Ronan called his name several times, but Connell did not turn around.

“Connell,”
Ronan said, gently gripping his friend’s shoulder.

Connell looked up, startled, tears streak
ing muddy paths down his cheeks. “M-MacGrigor?” He blinked rapidly. “Lia?”

Lia knelt
next to him. “Lord be merciful, Connell, how long have you been here?”

He shook his head, his gaze returning
to the three crosses before him. “I… I canna convince myself they’re gone.”

“Blessed Mary,” Lia whispered. She looked up and locked Ronan in her gaze,
shaking her head.

Ronan was uncertain of the message she meant
to convey to him, only that he knew they had to get Connell back to the castle… and away from the graves.

“Connell, come with me,” Ronan said.

“Nay, I canna leave them.”

Lia gently pushed his matted hair away from his face. “You must.
’Tis not good for you to remain here.”

Again he shook his head, tears coming
to his eyes.

“Connell,” Ronan said, his grip tightening on his shoulders. “Ye ken I would give anything for ye. What do ye need?”

“What I need be no’ in your power tae give.”

“Connell, name it.”

“I need my family.”

Ronan thought his heart would shatter at that moment.

“Connell, listen to me,” Lia said, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. “Would your family want you doing this to yourself? Would your wife want this?”

Tears dripped down his cheeks anew. “Nay,” he said softly.

Ronan changed his grip on Connell, moving his hand under his arm. He gently but firmly tugged the man upward. “Connell, don’t make me haul ye tae the castle by yer scruff.”