Branded by a Warrior (5 page)

He had tried many times to get the lass to wake
up;
he talked to her, pleaded with her to no avail. The small wom
an in his arms did not move,
speak or wake the entire ride.

Sliding off his saddle h
e took the stairs two at a time, not even giving a backwards glace to his hundreds of warriors.
They knew their duties, and he needed to get her
by a fire and call the healer.

Behind him he heard Kendrix ride up and dismount, his steady gate crunched in the snow as he
walked ahead of him and
pull
ed open the castle doors so he could carry in the injured lady
.

“How bad is she?”
Kendrix asked as
he pulled of his leather gloves, looking over at him.

Taking a cl
eansing breath,
“She’s dying Kendrix, massive wound to her
shoulder
,
all the way to her
chest. She bled all over me; she can’t have
much blood left in her wee bod
y
, I’m drenched in her blood
.
She’s
freezing;
I’ll need the
healer
and Old Rhona wi
th supplies to clean this wound. I nee
d to get her in front of a fire.
”
He explained
as he
crossed the keep and walked over to the tower that held the family rooms. Climbing
the stairs
tw
o at a time Kendrix held the torch to light the way.

“Jes
u, do ye think she’ll make et Brother?” Kend
rix
questioned
as
he watched Broderick stop
in front of his own room.

“
I will not let her die. Now,
open my
door
Brother
,
”
nodding to his door.

“Ye room Broderick? You never let any woman in ye room,
you know what that’ll imply?” Kendrix
questioned carefully as he opene
d the thick wooden door to the L
aird
’
s
quarters and eyed Broderick.

“Aye, she’s under my protection from this day forth. I refuse to let her die, now please, help me or get yo
ur bloody arse out of my way!” H
e bar
ked as he stepped into his room. W
alking
directly over to the warm fire,
Kendrix following behind him quietly.

Laying the young lass down softly on the floor
before the fire,
he covered her tightly
with a fresh plaid that was on his chair
and turned to stoke the fire.
Beside him he felt his wolfhounds walk in and circle Elisabeth before nestling up beside her.

The brothers watched the notorious loyal dogs huddle against the frozen lass without being ordered.

The wolfhounds were one of Broderick’s most valuable weapons, loyal and
expertly
trained; they could rip a man’s throat out or give a ride to a wee bairn if ordered by their master. Usually always at his side waiting for his next order, he had never seen them choose another human over him. It was as if they were protecting her too.
It appeared they had chosen the injured woman to protect, whether he told them to or not.

Broderick looked up to see his younger brother staring at the wolfhounds and Elisabeth’s pale face.

“Curious,” Kendrix whispered in the darkened room.

“Aye”

Kendrix’s looked up from Elisabeth,
“I’ll go find Old Rh
ona and that crazy healer woman.
I’ll send fresh supplies with them as well. Keep me updated if you need anything else,
I’ll check back in the morning
.
”

“Thank you Kendrix,” nodding he watched him walk out of the room
. Broderick
swung his gaze back to the pale Warrior Queen.

Since he’d found her,
she never lifted an eyelid, or made a sound. She was breathing but yet, dead to the world around her.
He
knew her
wound
was the direct cause, it was a horrid slash that started high on her
left
shoulder, where it ended he had yet to find out.
It was a miracle she lived this long.

Looking down at his feet, he saw
his fierce wolfhounds surround her with their protection as she lay before his fireplace.
Their shaggy coats nestled in on each side of her, wrapped in his tartan plaid; he looked at her angelic face.
Standing above her h
e couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not,
panicking
,
he knelt down and
quickly picked up her right hand
and removed his glove
off her small hand
, feeling for a pulse
.
Her hand was
still
ice cold, but he could feel her faint pulse.

Sighing with relief he felt
his male dog nudge his leg, he
looked
over at his faithful companion, “I won’t hurt her Conn, rest easy old boy,” running his s
trong hand over the dog’s head, chuckling at his do
g protectiveness.

Holding her small cold hand, he felt her
palm was calloused, much like his
. A
knowing sign of a swordsman
, turning her hand over he ran his thumb across the calluses on her right hand
.
He had never met a lady who had the hands of a
worker;
Elisabeth’s hands
had beautiful ivory skin on top and the hands of a laborer on bottom. Looking at her face he saw h
er lips were still ti
nted blue and she was shivering. H
is hounds were snuggled tight to her side as the fire began to roar beside them. The fire helped illuminate the room, and her
striking
face. Reaching
over, he
moved a stray curl out of her face as he watched her breathe.

Kneeling next to her
,
he willed her to live, holding her cold hand he renewed his vow to Duncan once again
.
Something inside him felt connected with her, he couldn’t explain it but he could feel it. It was unlike anything
he had ever experienced before.
Since the moment he held her against his chest it
was as if they were connected.
Broderick thought it v
ery odd, and strangely disconcerting.
After being jaded, he had kept women at an arm’s length, feeling the connection to Elisabeth was an unwelcome surprise.

Hearing something in the hallway, both Conn and Isla lifted their heads and stared at the large wooden door.
Smiling at his dogs, he ruffled the hair on their heads and stood up. Walking over to his door he pulled it wide and heard the mumblings of one of the most beloved member
s
of
his
castle.

Seeing her white hair appear out of the shadows he held open the chamber door and directed her in, “She’s injured badly Rhona, we must do whatever we can for her, anything you need from me,
just ask.” H
e
explained as he closed the door after her, following her over to Elisabeth’s side. 

Old Rhona was a trusted member
of his castle servants; she
had been his mother’s personal maid and eventually
the
boy
s
’
nurse
maid
;
she was o
ne of the only women he trusted. The elder came up to his chest; she was full of spirit and wit.
Plump and bossy, she kept the MacMillan boys
in line after their parents were killed. A full head of sparkling white hair, Rhona
saw
after much of the castle daily happenings.

Broderick watched as old Rhona waddled across his room, her white hair plaited in a long rope down her back. He watched her sit down the bucket of hot water and walk directly over to Elisabeth’s side, her eyes on the fallen lass only.

“Oh Broderick, what a bonnie lass! How bad is her injury? Kendrix didn’t elaborate, he’s se
arc
hing for your blasted
healer
,
and we
have no idea where that old crow has
run
off to now
.
”
Rhona quickly whispered as she
knelt
beside Elisabeth
brushing
another red curl off the sleeping lass’
face.

“She’s lost so much blood Rhona, it’ll be a miracle if she lives,” he admitted, even though he made a
n oath, he gazed upon her
face wondering if she was strong enough to pull through this injury.
The amount of blood she had lost was worrisome, even a man his size could easily die from the same injury.
He absentmindedly rolled his signet ring between his fingers as he stood there and watched.

“She’ll live Br
oderick, I can tell, she is
special
. There is a touch of
destin
y
with this lass,
treat her well,
” she offered
cryptically
never taking her eyes off the woman lying on his floor
, “Now, shall we see how bad the damage is? She could have additional injuries upon her body. We’ll have to strip her
and get her out of that soaked tunic, I’ll need your help. G
rab some
fresh linens
and cloth from your wardrobe, I’ll need a fresh tartan to cover her un
til the healer arrives
.
”

Confused by her words he did as he was bid
, he trusted and respected Rhona, anything she needed- she would have it
.
Nodding, he crossed
his
room in search of the items the wise elder
requested.
Unchaining h
is sable fur from his shoulders
he threw it over the chair. The snow had melted and left
him wet and cold from his journey
, pushing aside his desire to change, he focused on seeing
to the young woman he brought home first
.
Sighing loudly, h
e was glad to be home, his room was
a
warm welcome from the blizzard brewing outside.
Running his hands through his long dark hair he shook off the
wetness as opened his wardrobe wide.
P
ulling out fresh linens and
an
extra
tartan plaid
,
he grabbed the collection and walked back over to help Rhona.

He knew he had a long night ahead of him, closing a wo
und that size would take hours, let alone cleaning it and changing the lass.
Closing his eyes he was thankful she wasn’t awake for this, it would be agonizing even for a grown man.
Ignoring his hunger pains, he mentally prepared for a grueling night.

Joining Rhona back by the fire he saw she
had already begun to
cut the
young lass out
of her bloodied tunic and plaid.
Efficiently
cutting away the soiled clothing, Rhona peeled
off layers of
clothing
and tossed them into a pile.

“Ye sure y
e want to be here for this
Broderick? The lass won’t be happy
when she heals and finds t
hat you saw her naked as a babe
,
”
quickly looking up she questioned her Laird.

Dr
opping the pile beside his dogs
and Elisabeth, he knelt down beside Old Rhona and nodded, “Aye, I owe her my life. I’ve made an oath, she’s under my protection. I’ll deal with the lass when that time comes
, if
she
makes it
.
”

Rhona didn’t question her L
aird any further;
above all else his word was the final say.
She knew
the lass before her would change her laird’s world; she wasn’t lying when she mentioned the lass had a touch of destiny about her. What she failed to tell
Broderick is the lass and his destinies were intertwined. Old and wise enough to keep that to herself, she gave Broderick orders while she pulled the last of the injured lass’s clothes off, revealing a gnarly wound that stretched from her upper
left
shoulder down across her chest underneath her opposite breast.
Sucking in her br
eath as she inspected the wound. It was far worse than she imagined, sending
up a silent prayer
for the young woman before her, she knew
her recovery would be long and painful.