Gifted

Village

Alina waved Euan and his men off at the dock then rushed over to the village in her donkey cart. Lady Lillian agreed to send a few barrels of cider to the Kerrs as a gesture of goodwill but Alina held one barrel back. She'd doctored the cider with mandrake and henbane and a few other herbs and was now bringing it to the tavern. She would make sure the villagers more prone to belligerence were sedated before the northmen arrived. She'd worked by moon and candlelight, mixing herbs and plotting for different contingencies all through the night. Dawn had tinged the sky pink before she'd felt prepared enough to unroll her pallet and allow herself to catch a couple hours of sleep.

"Scamp! We missed ye yesterday," the bald barman boomed in welcome. "What's this ye bring me? Morag! Come see! Our lass has brought us a gift on this fine morning."

"It's too early for ye to be hollerin' so Garrick Kerr," the plump dark-haired woman bantered at her husband. "Good morning, lass. I heard ye had a visitor yesterday."

Alina grimaced as she took off her gloves. "Aye, a suitor from the south. I sent him home just now. He's why ye didn't see me yesterday. Lady Lillian insisted I make myself look like a lady for our visitor. It took most of the day just to get me looking presentable."

Brightly colored silks and fine linens never held much appeal to Alina and she felt more like herself back in serviceable wool. Her dull brown kirtle hid a multitude of stains and was more resistant to damage than the fancy, fitted bliauts Lady Lillian tried in vain to get her to wear. Her stepmother gave her up as a hoyden for her refusing to wear a veil but Alina never saw the point in them. They were supposed to keep men from lusting after beautiful women like her stepsister but Alina never felt the need for such modesty for herself. In the warmer months, villagers were well aware that Alina swam and bathed in the river at least every other day and no one seemed concerned that anyone would be overcome with lust if they saw her. No one even bothered to look. The only objection seemed to be that most thought it was unnatural for a body to bathe that often.

"Are ye betrothed again, lass?" Morag asked.

Garrick laughed as he hefted the barrel onto his burly shoulder.

"Not bloody likely!" He said, "It took the Campbell lad months before he could pin her down."

Alina leaned toward Morag as Garrick went into the tavern with the barrel.

She took her hand and kept her voice low, saying, "Actually, I think we might get some trouble from the Campbell. I'll need your help keeping the men from getting riled when he comes to visit today."

Morag was offended on Alina's behalf.

"What right does he have to cause ye trouble? His son's the one who went off and married someone else. They should be groveling for yer forgiveness." She added, "How do ye know they're coming today?"

Alina hazarded a guess. "Jamie's returned with his Highland wife. They're coming to make introductions and apologies. Regardless of who's at fault, we no longer have an alliance. Conflict is unavoidable but I don't want it to come from anything our villagers do while our neighbors are visiting. Can you make sure some of our more, er, rambunctious men get a pint of my cider today? Especially that hot-head apprentice with our blacksmith?"

"Ah, right ye are," Morag winked knowingly. "I'll make sure our men can't help but behave themselves. Especially young Paul."

Garrick came back out and said, "Come inside for a spell, lass. Let me feed ye a mutton pie. Ye're looking a might scrawny and it's a shame they don't feed ye better up at that castle of yours."

"Cook would be offended at such nonsense, Garrick, and I'll do ye the favor of not repeating what ye said. The food is very fine up at the castle. Besides, I caught some salmon out on the docks while waiting for Cousin Euan and his men to depart. I'll be bringing them to our Iona after I take my leave of ye," Alina said as she took his hand and squeezed in an awkward goodbye.

She ignored his bemused expression. People eventually shrugged off her fits of odd behavior.

"Ye're good to see to the old crone. She refuses to admit that she's going blind and shouldn't be living out in those woods on her own," Morag said as she waved farewell.

Alina spent the rest of the morning touching hands with as many of the villagers as she could, solidifying her reputation as an odd duck. Her head was pounding and her stomach was tied up in greasy knots but she was relieved to not be assaulted with any more visions of violence and death. The worst she foresaw was having to tend injuries on Fergus Dunbar in three day's time: a brawl with the blacksmith's apprentice. Oddly enough, the Viking was there, too, but he seemed... not overtly aggressive.

Alina didn't get a vision every time she touched hands with someone, just when there was something memorable in their shared future. There were often bewildering details that defied explanation at the time. Foresight showed her specific moments fated to happen to her and the person whose hand she was holding.

The future was stubborn and tricky. Alina had only ever been able to effect small changes but she kept trying and hoping for better results. The violence she'd foreseen against Euan was undeniably brutal and unforgettable. She wondered what would eventually become of him. Did she jump to conclusions about the cause for the violence? Did Euan bring it upon himself? Did she jump to conclusions about the northman? It was easy to judge the northman a brute due to his appearance but maybe he was provoked. Was he defending himself? Hard to believe Euan a threat, though. The striking Highlander was nearly double his size.

Alina's last stop was in the forest halfway up to the castle. It was a crisp and clear day. The midday sun dappled the gravelly path underfoot. She could always breath easier among the trees, away from people. She understood why Iona chose to live as she did. You can be alone a long time in the woods and never feel lonesome, she thought. She found Iona tending the wild winter garden along the south wall of her hut. Plants that had no business still growing in December seemed to thrive under Iona's care. Alina wondered if the old crone had some magic of her own. Maybe that's why she always felt at ease here. Alina felt a certain connection to those with gifts like hers.

Iona often acted in Alina's stead when Lady Lillian forbade her from leaving the castle. The crone would go down to the village to help deliver a baby or see to a bad fever. Villagers knew to bring an injured person to the castle if they needed a healer to set a bone or stitch a wound. Lady Lillian frowned upon Alina engaging in such an unladylike activity but could hardly turn away an obviously bleeding and/or broken person.

Iona insisted on trading some of her dried herbs for the salmon and also bade Alina to sit and eat with her. The salmon was well-seasoned with herbs and expertly grilled but Alina still felt ill from having multiple visions and had to force herself to eat. She finally convinced her old friend that she'd eaten all she could and got back onto the donkey cart for the ascent to the castle.