Page 47 of Highland Slayer
“And ye simply tell them that the woman is not within the walls.”
Kaladin shook his head. “That is the problem,” he said. “The abbess at St. Margaret’s is a woman named Mother Michael. Ye already know that St. Margaret’s is a fighting order. They protect women and children. Mother Michael is convinced that she’ll be able tae fight off the Serpent People and protect the injured woman, no matter what. Mother Michael’s confidence in their fighting ability will compel her tae tell the Serpent People that, indeed, the woman they seek is within the walls of the abbey. And they canna have her.”
Lares sighed heavily, looking at Caelus, at Lucan, and finally his wife. He could see their grim faces. He certainly didn’t wantto drag his wife and daughter into a battle, but it sounded as if there may be little choice.
His attention returned to Kaladin.
“And ye were riding tae Darien for help?” he said.
Kaladin nodded. “Aye,” he said. “I’ve been riding since yesterday. How close am I tae the border?”
“Close,” Lares said. “But ye needn’t summon Darien because I’m here. We’ll go tae St. Margaret’s with ye and reinforce the ranks. But I’m sending yer mother and sister back tae Annan first.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Mabel said, outraged. Before Lares could reply, she looked at Kaladin. “You said that Matty was ill?”
Kaladin nodded. “Aye,” he said. “So is the injured woman. She passed on whatever is making her ill and now he has it, too. He was the one who carried her from the river. Estevan went intae Dumfries yesterday tae find medicine for him.”
“Did he?”
“He brought something back for him.”
Mabel sighed sharply. “I must see to him,” she said. “His mother would never forgive me if I did not and tragedy befell him. I will tend him myself.”
“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” Lares said as gently as he could. “I’m certain the nuns at St. Margaret’s are seeing tae his needs well enough.”
Mabel pursed her lips. “Rubbish,” she said, turning for her horse. “Zora, find your mount. We are going to St. Margaret’s of Loch Doom.”
Zora moved swiftly because Mabel’s orders were not meant to be ignored. “Can I help, Mama?” she asked.
“Of course you can help,” Mabel said. “You will be a great help. Now, if your father would stop standing there with his mouth gaping and help me mount, we can be on our way.”
Lares hadn’t realized his mouth was open. But, then again, Mabel’s bold decisions always had his mouth hanging open because he couldn’t believe her at times. She’d heard all of the information about the situation, but still, she wanted to go.
“Mae,” he said, moving over to her, “did ye not hear Kal? There may be a battle.”
Mabel gestured for him to lift her up to her horse. “I heard,” she said. “And if there is a battle, you’ll need someone to tend the wounded. Zora and I will do it.”
There was no talking her out of it. Lares knew that. They all knew that. With great regret, Lares lifted his wife onto her horse and then helped his daughter get settled. When he turned around, he could see his sons standing around, uncertain about what to do next, and he simply motioned to them to mount their steeds. That settled the question as to whether or not Lares was going to permit his wife and daughter to join them at St. Margaret’s.
Evidently, it was going to be family affair.
Within minutes, the entire army was moving out.
Help, for the Templar nuns of St. Margaret’s, was on its way.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
St. Margaret’s of Loch Doom
There was agood deal of coughing going on.
Lying on her cot, pushed over against the wall to keep it out of the draft, Leonore had been listening to the big knight on the other side of the sanctuary cough heavily for the last several minutes. He couldn’t quite seem to catch his breath, so he lay there and hacked. Given that she was from the people who spent most of their time at sea in a chill climate, she had been around men who had their fair share of illnesses. But she knew this particular illness was her fault.
Her condition, however, wasn’t nearly as bad as his. He had seemed to take the brunt of whatever she brought with her, and this was the third day of their illnesses. Leonore was holding her own while Mateo seemed to be getting worse. The truth was that she felt rather guilty about it, considering he was only ill because of her. Even now, she lay staring at the ceiling, listening to him cough and wondering if someone was going to help him. But he just kept at it. Finally, she turned her head enough to see that there wasn’t anyone in the sanctuary other than her and the sick knight. It seemed as if the sanctuary had been full of women since she got there, but not at this moment.
She and her sick savior seemed to be on their own.
Quietly, Leonore set up in bed, coughing a few times herself before she was able to catch her breath. She was still dressed in the same clothing she’d been dressed in when she had been brought here, the very same clothing she had been wearingon her journey across the sea and even months before that. Because she had been a hostage, she didn’t have any personal possessions, but what she was really missing was her shoes. She didn’t have them anymore, so she could only imagine they were buried under the silt by now, somewhere near her boat. Therefore, she put her bare feet on the cold, packed floor of the sanctuary and carefully stood up.
