Page 46 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
“Ye’re nae.” Alex appeared at his other side. “Ye’re overdue fer seein’ Evelyn, is what ye are.”
“I just need tae eat something - drink somethin’...” Donall shoved himself upward out of his seat, intent on proving his point.
I’m nae weak. I can handle a minor wound like this. I can…
Gray roared across his vision like a pack of storm-clouds covering his eyes, and his knees buckled. Donall just had wits enough to register two sets of hands catching him before everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The wounded Ranald warrior had a collar bone that was broken in two places, and a gouged shoulder, upper arm and lower shoulder. Lydia was cleaning away the bloody cloths, makeshift bandages and empty potion bottles when a clatter at the door made her look up.
The door burst open, and Laird MacEwen staggered into the cottage, supporting Laird Ranald with one arm about his shoulders while Ewan supported him on the other side. Laird Ranald was limp in their grasp, his face almost gray with exhaustion and blood loss. From the way his friends were all but manhandling him over the threshold, it was clear he’d lost consciousness.
“Oh…” Everything seemed to freeze around Lydia as she beheld the stripe of crimson bleeding through his shirt, and through the bandages. “Oh, no…”
“Here. Bring him here. Lay him on the bed in this room.” Evelyn appeared in the doorway, pushing past the men to indicate theback room. “Och, that bloody fool. I said he ought tae come tae me afore he tried tae dae aught else, but he’s stubborn as the mountain stone.”
“Ye’re nae wrong.” Laird MacEwen’s face was grim. “He held out through the meetin’ but the minute ‘twas done an’ he tried tae rise, he collapsed like he’d taken an axe handle tae the skull.”
“He’s lucky I dinnae put a broom handle tae the back o’ his skull fer bein’ so foolhardy.” The healer glared at the prone laird of Ranald Keep. “He’d well deserve it if I did.”
She dragged the garments off Laird Ranald’s prone form and tsked in disapproval. “Och, he’s a mess.”
Lydia swallowed hard at the sight of the blood on his bandages. “My apologies. It appears I did not…”
“Ye didnae dae anything wrong, lass. ‘Tis his own stubbornness that caused his wounds tae bleed so much.” Evelyn undid the linen bandages with deft hands, directing the men to raise Laird Ranald’s shoulders while she worked, then studied the wound. “Och, I ought tae stitch this, an’ were he less of a fool I would. But kenning our laird, he’ll nae wait fer the stitchin’ tae heal afore charging back intae the fray. Hot iron will seal it better, given his hot-headed nature.”
She gestured. “Lydia, start the iron heatin’ then bring me fresh hot water, somethin tae slow the bleeding, an’ one o’ the cleansing potions.”
The idea of using a hot iron on anyone, especially Laird Ranald , made Lydia’s stomach roil, but she hurried to do as she was commanded. In this, she was Evelyn’s apprentice, and doing unpleasant tasks was her role. Besides, better to know now whether or not she could stomach such tasks, for at times, they were needful to prevent illness and infection from setting in.
The iron will burn and hurt for but a moment, the burn for but a few days… an infection will hurt longer, and likely cost him his life. I must remember that, no matter how much I do not wish to be part of this.
Collecting the requested items was a matter of moments, and soon a thin steel rod was resting in the embers, while Lydia and Evelyn washed the wound, applied a cleansing potion, then the healing salve to slow the bleeding. With Alexander and Ewan’s help, they tipped a mixed sleeping and painkilling potion down Laird Ranald’s throat. Then it was time.
Alexander and Ewan held Laird Ranald’s shoulders and hips, and Lydia stood by with the burn salve, another healing poultice and the bandages, while Evelyn took up the rod with careful hands.
At the first touch of the iron, Laird Ranald’s body spasmed, fighting against their grip. A guttural sound without any words wrenched itself from his throat as he twisted and fought. Strong muscles locked rigid and strained against their helping hands. Then he went limp as the potion and pain combined to push him past any point of consciousness.
The cauterizing of the wound went quickly after that, and Lydia stepped in to help apply the healing ointments and bandages. Finally, the task was finished, and the four of them could step back with a sigh of relief. Lydia watched the laird sleep under the blanket Evelyn had draped over him. “Will he be well?”
Evelyn frowned. “Time will tell. Our laird is strong, but he lost much blood, an’ he failed tae have the wound tended tae when he should have. ‘Tis also clear tae me tha’ he hasnae been sleeping or eating properly. Any o’ those may hinder his recovery.”
“When will we ken?” Laird MacEwen stared down at his sleeping friend.
“Wait an’ see how he fares through the night.” Evelyn sighed. “If he wakes easy, an’ naething comes upon him in the next half-day, then ‘twill be well, an’ only a matter o’ time. But if a fever tak’s hold, or aught else…”
“I will stay with him, to monitor him.” Lydia stepped forward. “I have some knowledge regarding fevers.”
Evelyn nodded. “It would leave me free tae attend tae Galen. That wound on his arm will require watchin’ as well. An’ the two o’ ye…” Her glance cut to Alex and Ewan. “...can make sure that naught troubles me laird while he’s recoverin’. Otherwise, ‘tis certain he’ll be tryin’ tae get out of his bed tae tend tae matters, even if he’s half off his head an’ cannae walk in a straight line.”
“Aye. We’ll make sure everyone is safe while he recovers.” Ewan agreed.
“I can manage the little things, an’ call fer aid if needed.” Alex spoke softly.
“Aye.” Evelyn moved to put a careful hand on Laird Ranald’s face. “’Tis the best we can dae fer now.”
Both men nodded and murmured their farewells. Lydia watched them go, feeling a faint spark of amusement at how easily Evelyn could command two fierce warriors. Clearly, both men knew how formidable the healer could be.
