Jamie's gunting soon became increasingly steady as the bumps of the road jostled the horse's strides.
"I hope that hurts worse than you're letting on... you deserve a thrashing for charging into that fight with your bad shoulder." She smirked enjoying the groans coming from behind her.
"Well, wasna much of a choice."
She whipped her head around to glare at him, "Why then don't I believe that?"
"I can handle red coats with no problems even on my worst days, but three one handed is another thing entirely." He boasted.
As the other scotsman began crowding around them she spun back around.
"Besides, you can fix it for me again when we get where we're going." He chortled.
Before she could respond to his ridiculous assumption, Angus, one of the smaller Scotsman stopped the group and raised his flask in her direction.
"Here's to you lass, for giving us a wee bit o' fun... slàinte mhath !" He toasted, passing the flask to the woman.
She couldn't help but smile while taking a nip, allowing the familiar liquid to warm her stomach and help calm her frazzled nerves.
As the night progressed and their pace began to slow, she could feel Jamie's heaviness behind her shift drastically. She stopped the horse, digging her fingers into his plaid in an attempt to keep him in the saddle but her strength was not enough to keep him from falling.
Swiftly she dismounted and feverishly began to try and pull him into a sitting position. Murtagh quickly joined her along with Angus who took his arms and pulled him next to a nearby tree illuminated by the moonlight. She kneeled beside him feeling the warm blood trickle from his re-set shoulder.
"That liar!" She grumbled as she began applying pressure on the wound.
"Is it serious?" Murtagh questioned, a worried look now resting on his face,
"No, I dinna think so but he's lost a lot of blood… I have to clean it to make sure...I need your flask!" She requested Angus who handed it over after taking one last sip.
She slowly changed her position onto Jamie's lap in order to keep him from moving. Calmly she poured the alcohol into the deep wound, bolting upright,
gasping in pain and cursing, Jamie regained consciousness.
"Damn, yer not dead afterall, thought I'd be having the horse all to myself." She joked, releasing the breath she did not know she had been holding..
"You alright lad?" Questioned Murtagh, suddenly relieved.
"I'm fine, just a wee bit dizzy."
"The hell you are! You're bleeding all over the place, you should be with St. Peter." She snapped, "But no, had to be a tough guy and lie, Why? Just tell me why?"
"Didn't hurt." He stated staring back into her emerald gaze.
Without looking away she tore a long strip of cloth from her petticoat and began binding his wound.
"Does it hurt now?" She growled, pulling the bandage tight,
"Aye." He groaned,.
Her smirk returning, " It damned better!"
Moments later she grasped his hand tightly, helping him stand, "Well that is all I can do fer now."
"Thankyou Lass. Truly." He assured.
She simply nodded releasing his hand, "Now, back on your horse before they leave us."
Riding once again through the harsh night, cold and bloody, the promise of better things to come was not even a thought after prayer. But the hope that things could not get worse was a fleeting dream that she held on to as tight as the horse's mane. As the sun rose over the horizon a massive castle could be seen in the distance. Their destination that would soon prove to be either her sanctuary or her prison... Castle Leoch.
The sounds of hammer on metal and the morning chatter of the castle tenants were the only distractions left for the girl. As they came to a halt and began dismounting to greet family and friends, the master of the horses was the first to meet the party; followed closely by an older woman who affectionately welcomed the men and sent them on their way for breakfast.
The woman stopped suddenly, appearing to be lost for words when she spotted the Irish girl. Her appearance savage, bloody in soaked through undergarments that were torn to shreds.
"What do we have here?" The older woman questioned Jamie as she approached the two.
Jamie turned to the girl, he had no idea who she actually was. He had not been present when Murtagh and Dougal interrogated the girl before bringing her inside the cabin.
"Daniea Douglas." She stated attempting to not appear as fragile as she felt.
"This is Mistress Fitzgibbons." Jamie told Daniea as he walked over to the older woman, "Murtagh found her, and Dougal said we must bring her along with us so.."
Mistress Fitzgibbons shook her head in acknowledgment to Jamie's plight.
"Well….Daniea," She began, rolling the girls name on her tongue like a question.
"Come with me, we shall find you some food and some clothes ," She looked over Daniea's disheveled appearance once more as she began to guide her towards the castle, "Well, a bit more."
Daniea halted, "What about the Lad?"
Jamie scoffed and continued to unpack his horse with one arm."I can fend fer myself Lass."
"That's a load of horse crap if I've ever heard some." she snapped, turning towards Mistress Fitzgibbons, "He got himself shot yesterday."
"I'm fine." He insisted.
"The hell you are! If I don't finish tending to that gaping hole yer sporting or that piece of meat you call a shoulder you'll be having dealings with Saint Peter soon," She growled her temper flaring at his foolishness.
"Oh I. I agree with the Lass." The woman chimed, turning to Daniea, "But do you know what to do?"
Daniea nodded,
"Aye, I'm a charmer" Daniea answered, exhaustion beginning to show through her strong exterior.
"Jamie!" Mrs. Fitz hollered.
The young highlander huffed but slowly did as he was told, following the two women inside the castle to be looked after.
Once settled in a room upstairs, Daniea began tending to boiling water in the hearth's copper pots as Jamie stripped off his bloody jacket and shirt. He quickly wrapped himself in a nearby blanket as Mistress Fitzgibbons bustled back into the room, arms full of odds and ends.
"As you asked, cherry bark and comfrey fer the pain and garlic and witch hazel to boil the rags." Mistress Fitzgibbons listed as she handed the vials and cloth to Daniea.
"Perfect, I thankyou kindly." Daniea replied, quickly adding the herbs to the pots in the fire,
"Call out if ye need anything else."
"I will, thankyou again Mistress Fitzgibbons."
"Everybody calls me Mrs. Fitz, I would be pleased if ye did the same Lass," Mrs. Fitz instructed.
Daniea smiled and nodded as the woman left, then hastily redirected her attention to the injured man beside her. She slowly stepped behind Jamie and began to remove the blanket he had been clasping onto tightly. As the crisscrossing of scars across his entire back became illuminated by the firelight he began to speak.
"The redcoats… flogged me twice in the space of a week." He took a deep breath, memories flooding his mind.
"I wouldn't hope that anyone would feel joy from such a thing." Daniea replied as she gently cleaned the back side of his shoulder where the round exited, careful to not disturb his scars. Jamie began to explain about Black Jack Randall.
The name startled Daniea for a second, "Why were you whipped in the first place?" She asked attempting to cover up her reaction.
"Well the first time was for escaping Fort William, They were holding me prisoner." He remarked.
His sarcasm quickly broke the tension that had been building, "I figured that," She chuckled, "But why were you imprisoned in the first place… what charge were they holding you fer?"
"Oh that," a puzzled look emerging on his face, " Obstruction."
"Obstruction? That doesn't seem right."
"Ahh well, I suppose it is when the English decide what it means."
"Aye, you have a point there." She agreed, tightening the first bandages around the bullet wound.
He took a deep breath in, "It was near four years ago now," he began as he slowly told Daniea the story of his capture, Randall's cruelness not only to him but his sister and finally his journey to prison,
"When I woke up, I was trussed up in the wagon with the chickens, jolting down the road to Fort William."
Daniea stopped dead in her tracks, her hand resting on Jamie's injured shoulder, "I'm sorry."
He tried to make a joke when he sensed her mood but she only smiled for a short second before she finished bandaging his arm. He winced at the pain, "I'm going to have to strap yer arm to your side, so don't be getting any foolish ideas until it's healed,"
He chuckled at the warning, stopping abruptly when pain shot through his torso from her strapping his shoulder down. When she finished she allowed her fingertips to trail across a few of the scars by the dressing before she sat down on the floor in front of him by the hearth.
"Your clan must be proud to have a healer such as yourself."
"Thankyou…" she whispered her voice trailing off as she stared into the fire. Her memories overcoming the anguish she had suffered through the past few days. Tears began falling onto her cheeks, Jamie's words far away.
"Daniea?" He spoke gently, she didn't respond. "Daniea… Mistress." He called now becoming worried at her comatose state. "Mistress Douglas what's wrong?"
His voice louder and filled with worry snapped her back, "I'm…. I'm fine just thinking about my family is all.."
"Ohh.. I'm sure they will be happy to see you again, don't worry we will get you home." He tried to insure her, his hand on her back as he moved to kneel beside her on the ground.
"That's impossible.." she stated quietly.
"Why's that Lass?"
"Their dead… I have no one anymore." She answered, realization hitting her. At that moment she could no longer control herself, racking sobs began to form within her chest.
"Shhh... there Lass, don't cry, shhhh," He pleaded as he pulled her into him, wrapping her within his warmth. She remained there in the comfort of his arms for what seemed like forever, as she slowly pulled away their eyes met, heat rushed into her cheeks, her heart racing like never before.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be…" She whimpered, finally pulling away from him.
"You need not be scared of me, nor anyone else here so long as I'm with ye." He promised
"And when yer not with me?" She questioned.
He slowly stood, "Be careful. You're a stranger here and until that changes…"
She nodded in understanding.
"Now eat and sleep a bit, your worn out." He smiled, making his way to the door,
Before she could stop herself she reached out, grabbing his hand. "Jamie?"
He turned.
"Thankyou."She stammered.
Like a dream Jamie was gone, sleep had fallen hard upon her and harsh banging on the door was bringing her back to consciousness.
"You must get up! Come along now, up with ye!" Mrs. Fitz called as she whipped around the room, opening curtains, laying out clothes and pouring warm water to clean up with,
Daniea roused herself awake and stumbled over to the basin. "Make yourself presentable Lass, I will be back soon."
Once Mrs. Fitz left, Daniea slowly bathed, tamed her wild raven curls, tying them into a neat bun, and glanced quickly in a mirror. She wasn't too stunned when she saw the state she was in, her forehead black and blue, the bruising standing out greatly against her alabaster skin along with her lip cut and swollen. The aches within her echoed the beating she had endured.
Gradually she slipped into her new corset and dress that had been laid out for her and waited nervously for what was to come.
"Ahh much better, now yer ready to be taken to himself." Mrs. Fitz complemented when she returned to usher Daniea away. When they reached the other end of the castle, Murtagh took over, guiding her through the winding halls and finally taking her into a study.
"Wait here." Was all he said before he closed the door behind him.
Colorful birds chirped in a gilded cage surrounded by leather bound novels. Daniea whistled quietly to them as the door opened, revealing a short older scotsman, an air of authority radiating around him. Daniea soon noticed his legs were deformed but knew better than to let her eyes linger for longer than a second.
" I welcome ye mistress, my name is Colum Ban Campbell Mackenzie, Laird of this castle."
He motioned for her to sit.
"Thankyou my Laird." She answered shyly taking a seat.
"It was my understanding that my brother and his men found you in distress." He continued as he took the seat behind his desk.
"I.." She began, mustering her courage, "I was attacked by a red coat captain."
"And other than this, you suffered no further aggressions towards you?" He asked.
"No, my Laird."
"Now how exactly did a lady such as yourself end up in this situation?" He questioned, staring harshly at Daniea.
"I was making my journey from Ireland when the party I was traveling with was attacked. I managed to escape but found myself lost in the woods when I stumbled upon a group of redcoats. Their Captain, a Jack Randall his name was, attacked me.
"It's true, Jack Randall does have a certain reputation." He stated as he looked deep in thought, not uttering a word for a few minutes then, " May I inquire why an Irish Lassie is traveling such a long way into Scotland by herself?"
Daniea took a deep breath, if telling her tale of Randall was hard enough, this surely sought to break her.
"Aye, I am an only child my lord… my mother passed a short time ago leaving me with nothing but a few coins and a letter. The letter told me if anything ever happened to her to seek out my father. My father is a highlander my lord."
"What pray tell is this man's name?" Colum inquired.
She answered softly, "Taran Douglas, my Laird."
A slight look of shock crossed his face. "Does he know about you Lass?"
"Aye my lord, he….he was around when I was a bairn."
Colum simply shook his head, "Well then, I will contact Taran myself and make him aware of yer situation, till then I offer you the hospitality of our humble home."
Daniea could not help but smile, "Thankyou my lord, from the bottom of my heart."
As she left the study to find her way back through the castle, she couldn't help wondering why the Laird looked so surprised when she named her father. She had no real recollection of him except for what her mother told her. But he was alive and Colum knew who and where he was so that had to mean better things were in store.
Didn't they?
