Highland Island (Book 6)

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"Mother, stop it." Groaning she covered her face with her hands. Hoping, like she did as a bairn, her mother would not see her behind the shade of her palms. Leaning back against the rougher stone work, she still had not managed to make it out of the dungeon, yet half the clan seemed to have made their way down into the now oppressive room. Groaning aloud at the noise they made, some milling around as they could find no rest above, so instead must find out all the gossip first hand. Others were some of the clan guards who were trying to work out what had happened to the escape prisoner.

"Don't you be telling me to stop, young lady. I am dragged from my bed at this God awful hour, in order to tend to my daughter. A daughter who was nearly murdered by an escaped prisoner and his companions." Her mother's hands gently but firmly took a hold of hers and pulled them away from her face. Trying to glance into her eyes, Isla could not let herself be sucked into her mother's gaze. She would be able to tell the guilt that she felt. She could not let that happen. Not only would her mother kill her, but she may give her up to the clan. For if one fell then the clan would fall and Isla knew that they had to stick together to survive in the highlands. "So you, young lady, will not be telling me to stop."

The worry in her mother's voice told the tale of what she had been through, the bluster showing just how much she did not know how to handle the situation. So leaning back, she allowed her mother to fuss as the healer finally made an appearance and Gilbarta sat with a still shaken Moira in the corner. They were talking with Moira's father, his stern face had cracked to concern for his daughter for just a moment, before he became all about the job at hand. Her eyes darting here and there as she tried to take in all around her, whilst still battling against the pain which thrummed between her temples.

"Now then, what have ye be doing lass?" The jolly little man was rather too loud in Isla's current opinion, but he had always be a kind sort of man, never done anything overly armful to her. Even if she had some harrowing memories of remedies as a bairn. Luckily her mother took charge, Isla just did not have the energy to take on the male who seemed to be thriving on the lack of sleep.

With a look that said he was utterly foolish her mother thrust a hand in Isla's face. "Can ye not see man? Some brute has hit her upside the head and here we are." Pulling her mother's hand down, her mother clung on tight to her hand, not releasing her as she moved to sit beside her as the healer took up position right before her.

"Light." He called over his shoulder. Uncle Artair hurrying forward with a candle moments later. His eyes flitting towards Isla and away, his guilt over what he thought happened obvious.

A burning, piercing pain lanced through her head as he flashed the flickering flame before her eyes. A humming noise reverberating deep in his throat. Her wince made him nod, but he did not ask her to open her eyes when she closed them after it became too intense.

"I see," another hum.

"Argh." Her eyes snapped open, the pain knifing through as the healers fingers poked inside the split skin at her temple. Uncle Artair loomed menacingly at the healers shoulder's at his painful move. The man finally seemed to realise he needed to back down a little, before sheepishly looking over at Isla. Clearing his throat before he could speak again.

"I believe you will live." He paused as her mother snorted at his declaration. "Rest and fresh air will be the ticket for you. A good sleep and a brisk walk upon waking." Nodding as if his decree had been issued he pushed to his feet and bumbled away.

Isla remembered not to shake her head in exasperation but it was difficult. "Can I go home now?" Her eyelids felt heavy and she just wanted to drop into unconsciousness.

Dragging her eyelids upward, she just caught the shake of her mother's head. "The Laird has offered us the use of one of the upper rooms." The pride at being offered such barely contained. "You father went out to hunt down the brutes who did this to his daughter. We need to wait for him to return before I'll risk taking you back to the village."

Groaning, her mother's hands flitted over. At least she thought it was the pain, in fact it was the knowledge that her father was out there, a fieldworker doing a guardsman's job because he thought she had been hurt by one of them. As much as it showed that she meant something to him. Her father worked the earth because he was not of a warrior build. He knew how to use a sword, as all the clansmen did, yet he was not the first called upon when war was being waged. The guilt made her feel sick, the gorge rising until she could not stop it. Those near her making a quick departure from the vicinity as her stomach emptied.

The acid burning her throat, her vision wobbling as a multitude of cups found its way before her eyes. As she managed to focus a little, she realised it was in fact only a single cup of water, Gilbarta's intense gaze apologising once more. With a shaky smile, she took a simple, cleansing sip. Washing away the taste, thought her eye could not stop veering to the mess she had made, her stomach turning again at the smell which wafted towards her.

A hand swept before her vision, gabbing a hold of her arm and pulling her to her feet. Swaying as she did, the hand steadied her, before she could finally look up at her Uncle Artair. "I've got you lass. Let's get you out of this crowd and safe for the night." He sharply directed his head towards the doorway and it took her a moment to realise he was telling her mother to move in that direction.

Leaning upon her Uncle, she slowly made her way through the crowded room. The murmurs around her too indistinct for her to take any real notice, and she was too tired to particularly care what was being said. As they hit the empty hallway beyond, her mother finally reached her. Taking her other side in a guilty mockery of what had happened under an hour previously.

"Come along Isla. Let's get..." her mother was abruptly interrupted.

"I need to be speaking to Isla..." So her mother interrupted Moira's father in return.

"I believe you can leave that until she has rested. She has already told Artair what she knows." Not even looking in his direction her mother still carried on moving forward.

Artair looked back over his shoulder. "Aye she did. She could not tell me much, but let me get her situation and I will be back to tell you all." He carried on stalwartly forward along with her mother.

"I will still need to speak with Isla when she wakes." The irritation could be plainly heard.

"And you will. Just not right now." Her mother tossed her braided hair over her shoulder with the comment and they turned the corner to the stairway.

****

"Why in the hell did you get us in this mess?" The words were hissed in his ear. The tree branch digging into his buttocks and he tried not to move too much upon the rather thin branch. Each slight breeze making it creek under his and his brother's weight.

"You wished to climb a tree." His brother did deserve an answer...he just did not have one to give.

"That is not what I am talking about and you know it." A heavy sigh, louder than the words themselves. Both of them freezing as voices and footsteps passed beneath them for the third time in a matter of minutes. His brother causing him to jump as he hissed in his ear once again. "This is because of the girl again isn't it? Just get it over with and get over her. Or we will end up dead."

The anger burnt within his stomach. He could not hold the words in even as he knew the damage and hurt he would cause. "Like you did?" The low words were barely a breeze of sound and yet he felt the wound he inflicted. Did not know how to stop it from bleeding heart's blood. Yet a tiny part of him was pleased that he had said it in response.

Muscles cramped as the silence reigned. It was almost an hour later, when nothing moved beneath them, no voices could be heard and the tension between the two had become unbearable that Com finally spoke.

"I know what I did. That is why I say to you listen to my words and you will be better off than me." With that, his brother nimbly made his way to the bottom of the tree and strode off into the darkness. Carrick knew he needed to let his brother stew for a while before approaching him, but the danger was still out there somewhere and he was still responsible for him. With a heavy sigh of his own, he pushed himself off the branch, eventually making his way to the dense forest floor beneath. In way of apology he would keep his brother alive. For no matter what, he could not take his advice, not when it came to Isla.