The Rogue (27 page)

He then stepped out of the room and closed the door on their sputtering protests. The door barred, he leaned against it with his arms folded across his chest.

  
So there
. 

~#~

Birdi had never been more mortified or more depressed in her life. “I’m so sorry, Lady Beth.”

Lady Beth reached out and patted her hand. “It’s just Beth, remember?”

“Aye.” Birdi sighed. Her life was in ruin, and she was making a ruin of everyone else’s around her.

Beth eased her stool closer and wrapped an arm about Birdi’s shoulders. “You ken he means to keep his word. We’ll be in here forever if you don’t tell me what has you so worried—fashed.”

“But nothing I can say will make anything change.”

Birdi knew herself to be with child. Of that, she was certain. She would bring another like herself into the world. Blind and too sensitive to bear living. And if her minnie’s prediction was correct, this babe cradled in her loins would be far more sensitive than she, just as she was more sensitive than her mother. Worse, she kenned no way to protect the fragile life within her. She couldn’t even protect herself. Oh, why had she not thought it through before loving Angus?

“Birdi, please. Mayhap there is something we can do or at least reassure you about it. You must let us try to help you.”

“Do ye ken I’m spae?”

“A healer, yes. Angus told us.”

“‘Tis more, being what I am.”

“I don’t understand—ken.”

Could this woman help? Nay, but mayhap spilling her woe might ease some of the pain girdling her chest, compressing it to the point where she could barely breathe.  But where to begin?

After a moment, she whispered, “My mother was a healer and had the sight, but her skill was limited to kenning the root of a person’s ailment. If she sensed someone had eaten a poison mushroom or such, she would give mustard and elder. If someone bled, she’d use stinging nettle and witch hazel or whatever else was best.”

“Aye. Is this yer skill as well?”

“In part.” Birdi looked at her palms, the place from where all healing flowed. “Through Goddess, I can lay hands to a wound and close it. I can touch a fevered brow and cool it.”

“But isn’t—isna—that a good thing?”

“It would be if I didna feel their pain, suffer their wounds, but I do. Worse, with this gift comes blindness. I can only see but an arm’s length before me.”

“Oh, Birdi.” Beth’s arms tightened about her. “Honey, we don’t care. Ye manage well enough. And we’re here to help should ye need it.”

Birdi’s tears flowed. “Ack, ye still dinna ken. The babe...he’ll be stronger, blinder, and in so much pain...”

Beth’s eyes went wide. “Babe? Birdi, you’re pregnant—with child?”

“Aye. ‘Tis so awful.”

Beth, grinning, squeezed her. “Oh, sweetie, it’s wonderful. Angus will be so happy.”

She shook her head, “Nay, not when he realizes the babe canna see.” If Minnie was right this child would be born totally blind.
Oh, and the pain it will experience...oh, Goddess.

“Birdi, how much can you see clearly?”

She held out her arm. “From my nose to here.” She wiggled her fingers.

“And beyond that?”

She shrugged, “The world is just a mass of blurry colored blobs.”

Beth grinned. “Sweetie, you’re not blind. You’re myopic.” When Birdi frowned, she continued. “Near-sighted. Many people are. It’s something that’s easily fixed with...”

Beth paused, looking pensive. “I wonder if Duncan knows...I need think on this a bit. Now, about your power of healing, and mayhap the babe’s. Have you ever spoken to anyone besides your mother about it?”

“Just to Angus and Ian.”

“I meant have you ever spoken to another healer?”

Birdi shook her head. “I dinna ken such.” The last time she’d been to a gathering she’d been only a wee bairn. Mayhap a wise one
would
ken how to protect her bairn. If only...

“Well then, we must take you to see Auld Maggie.”

“Who?”

“The midwife, the shrine keeper.”

Birdi couldn’t believe her ears. “Ye have such here?”

Beth nodded. “Didn’t Angus tell you? We have a sacred spring and I forget what else. Auld Maggie tends to it, so I never bother—”

Birdi threw her arms about Beth, nearly knocking her off her stool. “Oh, thank ye! Thank ye, and thank ye, Goddess, as well.” She jumped to her feet, a thousand questions forming that she need ask the cailleach. And she had a sacred wedding to plan. Handfasting was all well and good for her, but her child needed reassurance that he carried Angus’s name by right. “We must go to the cailleach now. Right now.”

Beth laughed. “As ye wish, but first we’ll have to convince your annoying husband to let us out.”

~#~

Angus—relieved to his bones that Birdi had finally confided in someone and appeared somewhat brighter—watched Birdi bound up the stairs ahead of them. Taking Lady Beth by the elbow, he said, “Well?”

“Not yet.”

“Ack, woman! I need ken.”

“‘Tis not my place to tell you, Angus. All you need ken right now is that we’re going to see Auld Maggie.”

“Whatever for?”

Beth patted his cheek. “She needs to talk with the woman.”

Hearing this didn’t set particularly well. Auld Maggie, in his estimation, was a fraud. Though a competent mid-wife, the old woman’s healing power was limited to curing colic and the like, something he could do with a good volume of veterinary precepts in hand, but if a visit made Birdi happy, if it kept the bloom in her cheeks, so be it.

As they entered the great hall, Duncan said, “I see ye decided to let my ladywife out.”

Angus grimaced. “I hadna choice.”

Duncan slapped a hand on his shoulder. “The next time ye take it into yer head to imprison my ladywife, please inform me in advance, so I can talk some sense into ye.”

“Aye.”

“So did ye find out what ails her?”

“Nay, but Beth did, and Birdi is definitely in better spirits. We’re now off to see Auld Maggie.”

“We who?”

“The three of us.”

“Nay. Not Beth. She should be lying in, not being tossed about in a boat.”

Angus held up his hands. “Ye ken what happened to me the last time I naysayed yer wench. Ye deal with her.”

“I will.” Duncan stomped off after his wife as Birdi came into the hall, her cape on and carrying a small bundle.

He took her bundle, wondering what it contained. “Will ye tell me now what had ye fashing?”

Birdi rose onto her toes and placed a hand behind his neck. He bent so she could kiss his lips.

“I’ll speak of it after I speak with the cailleach.”

Angus grunted. If Auld Maggie was a cailleach, he was the king of Persia. “As ye wish. Come.”

“But Lady Beth?”

Angus put a hand on Birdi’s waist and guided her toward the bailey stairs. “She willna be coming. Duncan fears the trip will be too rough.”

Birdi nodded. “Aye, ‘tis better she stays. I dinna ken how long this will take.”

The sky was clear azure, the bay’s waters calm, and the breeze off shore as they walked toward the quay. The oarsmen would be fighting the wind to get them to shore, but there was no reason to fash about Birdi being in the boat.

Ian, one arm about a bonnie lass, greeted them on the quay and asked, “Where are ye going?”

“Birdi needs to speak with the cailleach.”

“I’ll come along then. I need to speak with ye before I bid ye goodbye.” He kissed the lass soundly and bounded into the boat after them.

Just as Angus and Birdi settled on the middle thwart, Duncan called, “Halt!”

Angus grinned seeing Beth waddling toward them with his liege lord slouching behind, his face mutinous and his arms full of pillows.

As Duncan jumped into the boat ahead of his wife, he growled, “One word, Angus, and ye’ll spend the winter standing watch on Piety Ridge.”

Jaw muscles straining to keep from laughing, Angus murmured, “As my liege commands.”

“Here.” Duncan shoved the pillows at him. “Place them on the bench while I help Beth in.”

Once Lady Beth was settled, they pushed off. Through the entirety of the crossing Birdi kept one white-knuckled hand clasped on the boat’s sheerplank and the other locked on his arm, her lips moving in what he suspected were silent prayers.

Birdi yelped in alarm when the boat surged high on a wave and then scraped bottom on Drasmoor’s gravel shore. “All’s well, Birdi. We’ve just landed.”

“Praise Goddess.” She released her death grip on the side of the boat but kept a tight grip on his arm in the event he lied. Poor Birdi.

Angus could not for the life of him imagine going through life as she did, suffering one jolting surprise after the other. No wonder she fashed.

He waited until Duncan had Beth on dry land before lifting Birdi up and out. Setting her on solid ground, he asked, “Are ye certain ye need do this?”

“Oh aye, absolutely.”

“Verra well.” He placed her hand on his forearm and led the way through the village and up a short incline. They crossed the wooden bridge stretched over a boulder-strewn burn and entered Auld Maggie’s wee glen.

~#~

High on a nearby ridge, the Macarthur slipped his blade from between the MacDougall’s lookout’s shoulder blades and silently eased the man to the ground. He turned to his right and whispered to his second-in-command, “I believe that’s the lot directly before us.”

They’d dispatched three in total. More guards lurked on either side but they’d be hard pressed to spy them coming down the glack.

John whispered, “What now?”

The Macarthur drew a lung full of salt laden air, something he sorely missed. “We wait till dark, then with six in one boat and ten in another we cross to the keep. The rest stand guard and keep the cattle quiet.” Wolf tracks were scattered all over the ridge.

“And the berserker?”

“I’ll deal with him myself. Ye secure the spae, get her in the boat, and back to shore.”

Obviously not happy, his captain grumbled. “As ye wish.”

He knew the old man wanted the privilege of killing MacDougall—Robbie and Fegan had been his brothers—but he’d waited too long to do it himself.

Macarthur pointed to the occupants of the boat nearing the shore below them. “Well, I’ll be damned. Look.”

His captain squinted, then grinned. “‘Tis our spae and the Blood.”

“Now who said Highlanders were not accommodating?”

~#~

Birdi, hands sweating, froze before the door of Auld Maggie’s wattle and stone hut. Inside might be the answers to her prayers. But what if the cailleach just shook her head and said she could do naught?

Beth came to her side. “Birdi, why do ye hesitate? Go inside.”

“What if...?” Birdi wrung her hands. “Where’s Angus?”

Beth nodded to her right. “Over yon talking with my husband and Ian.”

Birdi looked in the direction Beth indicated and saw three tall shadows silhouetted against brilliant blue.
Oh, Goddess, I love this man. Please dinna let Minnie’s prophecies be so. Please. For the babe’s sake and for Angus’s.

Birdi took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. ‘Twas always better to ken than not. “I’m ready.”

Beth kissed her cheek. “I pray you find the answers you seek.”

As Birdi raised her hand to knock a wheezing voice called, “Come in, come in. I’ve been expecting ye.”

Birdi’s hopes soared as she pushed open the door.

Inside, the croft was dark and musky, the air heavy with the scent of age, rosemary, and peat. Birdi took a cautious step forward and then another.

“To ye left, dearie.” She turned and found a wizened woman half her height sitting only a foot from her in a willow chair much like the one her mother had crafted.

Straining to see, Birdi asked, “We’re ye truly expecting me?”

Auld Maggie rose and took Birdi’s hands in hers. As gnarled as the auld woman’s hands were, Birdi was surprised to find them warm and strong.

“Nay,” she cackled, “but those here about expect me to say such, so I always do.” She waved to a stool. “Sit.”

Birdi’s heart sank, and she pulled her hand from the woman’s grasp. “‘Tis my mistake. I dinna...”

“Bairn, sit. I do sense that ye’re more than I shall ever be, which is why I didna lie when ye asked.”

“Oh.” Feeling a bit better, Birdi sat, but on the edge of the stool should she need to bolt the four steps to the door.

“Now, why would such as ye be coming to me?” the auld woman asked.

Birdi folded her hands in her lap, deciding it would be best to just be honest and be done with it. “I’m with child and fear this babe will be born blind but with a gift far more potent than mine.”

“Hmm. And why would ye believe such? Is this bairn’s sire a spae such as yeself?”

“Oh, nay. Angus is just a man. Nay, I dinna mean he’s just any man. I meant—”

“I ken what ye mean, lass.” Auld Maggie ruminated for a minute as she studied Beth. “Who told ye the babe would be born blind?”

“Minnie.”

“And would she have been Rowena of Loch Ard Forest.”

Birdi’s heart tripped. “How...? Did ye ken my mother?”

“Aye, long ago.” She shook her head in sad fashion. “‘Tis nay small wonder ye fash as ye do.”

Birdi frowned. “Speak plainly.” She’d loathed riddles since childhood. She also had too much at stake to waste time pondering.

“Yer mother was always odd, even by our standards. But after she fell in love with that Druid—”

Birdi shook her head. “What Druid?”

“Yer sire, lass, did she not tell ye?”

“Nay. Tell me now.”

Auld Maggie cocked her head and studied her for a moment. “As ye wish.” She then settled back in her chair, her arms crossed beneath her shriveled breasts. “One day yer mother was out gathering grain and her leg got caught in a snare, the Druid’s. He admitted he’d spied her on several occasions and had deliberately set the trap to catch her.”

“But why?”

“He told her he was from Eire land, from across the sea, and he’d never in his travels seen a more bonnie lass than she.” The auld woman looked at her fire. “Ye ken that our lives can be lonely, so it took nay great effort on his part to woo and tup her, all in short order. He was, according to yer mother, handsome beyond words.” She squinted at Birdi. “Given yer beauty I dinna doubt that he was. Since ye dinna have her eyes, ye must have his.”