Page 21 of Highlander's Escaped Prisoner
The church was a humble stone building with a thatched roof that was worn thin in places and looked as though it would soon need to be replaced. Logan was not a particularly devout man, but he decided that it might be useful to become one today to get the information that he needed.
He saw Father Donald as soon as he entered the church. He was kneeling at the front, his head bent over in prayer, but he looked up as he heard Logan entering, then he crossed himself and came toward him, smiling. He was a small, sturdy, elderly man whose hair had once been red but was now snow white.
“Good day, young man,” he said politely. “Welcome to Saint Margaret’s. I have not seen you here before.”
“I am not a member of your flock, Father. I attend Saint Aloysius in Clunebrae.” He sighed and frowned anxiously. “I need your help. I am looking for a friend—well, two friends, I suppose—who may have passed through here. I have news for them, and it is of the utmost importance that I pass it on as quickly as I can. ”
“What did they look like?” the priest asked. He sat down on a pew and invited Logan to sit beside him, then looked at him earnestly.
“She has fair hair, blue eyes, and is very pretty. Her name is Nessa, and she is twenty years old, she may be wounded” he replied. “He is very tall and broad with dark hair, probably very long, and a long beard, I think. His name is Bryce. It has been a while since I saw him.”
“Hmm, I have not seen them, but maybe you should try the healer, Catriona McClure,” the priest suggested. “Perhaps if one or both of them is hurt, they might have gone there.”
“Where can I find her?” Logan asked eagerly. He had not thought of this possibility.
“On the Wallace Brae,” the man replied, leading Logan outside. He pointed upward to a small house that stood on the very summit of a long steep hill in the shadow of some pine trees. As he watched, a woman came out with a basket and disappeared into the trees.
“It is worth a look,” Logan agreed, smiling at the priest. “Thank you, Father.” He was about to turn away when he felt his arm gripped firmly by the strong hand of the other man.
“You do not leave God’s house without a prayer,” he warned, a steely glint in his eye.
“Forgive me, Father,” Logan said, with a suitable amount of penitence. “I am in too much haste to find my friends.” He trooped back into the church and sighed as he knelt down beside the priest. He spent a tedious half hour with Father Donald, almost falling asleep as he recited the repetitive prayers. Afterward, his knees afire with pain, he mounted his horse and climbed the hill.
As soon as he reached the small thatched cottage, Catriona came out to meet him, wiping her hands on a cloth as she greeted him with a wide smile. “Good day,” she said pleasantly. “Have ye come for a love potion?”
It took a second for Logan to realize that she was jesting. “My lady still loves me,” he laughed, “but if her heart ever grows cold, then I will come back to see you.”
“If it is no’ a potion, then what dae ye need?” she asked. “I have medicine for a’ ills.”
“I need to find two friends of mine,” he answered. “Father Donald at the church said that you might be able to help me.”
Catriona narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. “She is fair an’ very pretty, an’ he is big, handsome an’ very hairy,” she stated. “Are they the people ye seek?”
“Yes!” Logan’s heart gave a leap of hope. “Have you treated them?”
She nodded. “Indeed I have, although ye wilnae recognize him now.” She laughed. “I shaved a forest off him!”
“Was it the man who was hurt?” he asked hopefully.
“He was,” she replied. “Somebody beat him, an’ his wrists were raw wi’ bein’ tied up. He could hardly stand up when theybrought him in here, an’ he passed out no’ long after we put him tae bed. Stayed that way for hours while she sat by him.”
“What happened to him?” Logan asked, frowning.
“Set upon by bandits,” Catriona answered. “Bruises all over his body.”
So Bryce Blair had been hurt? Logan felt like dancing with glee.
“But she—Nessa—was fine?” he asked anxiously.
“Aye, an’ so was he when he left,” she answered proudly. “I gave him some clothes an’ he looked ten times better when he left than he did when he came in.”
“What kind of horse did they have?” he asked curiously.
Catriona lifted her hand above her head to show the height of Jo’s back. “Big,” she said simply. “Black, wi’ big feathered feet. She called him Jo.” She laughed. “Jo—‘sweetheart.’ A mighty great beast like that!”
“That is Nessa,” Logan said fondly, shrugging. “She always loved that horse.”
“It seems that more than one young lad was fond o’ the lady,” Catriona laughed. “She called him Bryce.”
