She winced a little as an injudicious movement jarred her arm. She hadn’t looked at it yet — she didn’t want to draw anyone’s attention to the fact that the wolf hadn’t left her completely unscathed. From what she could tell, the bleeding had eased up, at least — the jacket had done good work in protecting her skin from too much damage. But it was definitely something she’d need to get cleaned up sooner rather than later. Maybe the herbalists would know a good remedy — something that would clean it out and avoid infection? Who knew what kind of horrible bacteria an Unseelie Fae wolf would have on its fangs? She supposed she could always ask Maggie for some more of her healing salves… but she was a little worried about what the woman would say about how she’d treated Donal. She seemed fond of him.
Brendan had been standing at her side since Donal had angrily walked off to oversee the lighting of a great bonfire. It seemed that tradition insisted on burning the bodies of the Unseelie creatures they tracked down and killed — something to do with not wanting the villagers to find the corpses and panic about them. There were also rumors of some Unseelie who could come back to life after they’d died, huge, shambling, rotting corpses moving around the countryside. The thought of the great wolf rising again made Anna shudder, and she looked forward to seeing the flames engulf the horrible thing’s body once and for all. She didn’t much like being babysat, though.
“He’s a stubborn man,” Brendan said in a low voice.
She glanced sideways at him, surprised that he was even speaking to her — the guards seemed to be under strict instructions to treat her like a prisoner. And from the pitch of his voice, he was eager not to be overheard by the other guards, too. How interesting. She remembered what Maeve had said about the tension between Brendan and Donal that had started when Donal had passed him over to be his second-in-command in the castle. Could this be a mutiny afoot? She was intrigued — intrigued enough to entertain the conversation, despite her residual anger at Brendan and the rest of the guards for leaving her and her servant friends behind.
“Tell me about it.”
“A good man, but a stubborn man. He won’t forgive you easily for telling him off in front of his men,” he said, and there was a note of warning to it as well as a note of … something else.
“It needed saying,” Anna said bluntly. “He messed up. A leader should be accountable.”
“Aye, I agree with you there,” Brendan said softly. “But I’m afraid you’ll be suffering the effects of his temper for a long time.”
“I’m tough, I can take it.”
Brendan chuckled, his dark eyes twinkling a little in the light of the bonfire that was slowly building in brightness. “I don’t doubt you can. It’s not just any woman who could have held that wolf off.”
Anna breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad someone understands what actually happened.”
“Aye, I saw it limping. I saw you commanding the servants, too,” he added. “Clever trick, forcing it back into the net. Might’ve worked.”
“It would have worked,” she corrected him, irritated. “I would have had it dead in a minute or two if Donal hadn’t decided to play the hero like that. Wrestling with the damn thing. If anyone was ‘playing the warrior’, it was him. Damn risky and unnecessary thing to do.”
Brendan was laughing low in his throat — but she could tell he wasn’t laughing at her, he was laughing at Donal, which made it okay. “Oh, I see why he likes you.”
“Likes me?” She rolled her eyes. “He’s going to imprison me in the highest room of the tallest tower, isn’t he? Not exactly the kind of treatment I expect from people who like me.”
“Like I said — he’s a stubborn man.” Brendan glanced over to the servants, who were adding more fuel to the great fire that was beginning to consume the corpse of the wolf.
Anna wrinkled her nose at the rancid scent of burning hair and charred flesh that reached her on the breeze.
“We’ll be walking back in an hour or so, once the fire burns down,” Donal announced to the gathered group of guards and servants.
He was deliberately avoiding the entire section of the clearing that Anna was standing in — it was as though she was invisible or possessed of some kind of force field that was repelling his gaze. Well, good. She didn’t much want to look at him either.
There was a chill in the air that was a result of a lot more than just the late hour as they walked back toward the castle. Anna had been deliberately separated from the servants, and found herself walking in isolation among the guards, most of whom — like Donal — were refusing to look at her. Nobody had gone so far as to actually bind her hands or shackle her, but still, it didn’t feel like the friendliest escort in the world. Donal was bringing up the rear of the group, and she fought the urge to brightly inform him that it was a little too late to learn how to protect the rear of the group. After all, the wolf was dead now. She’d watched its great corpse burn down to ashes, and then watched the embers blaze for a little longer than that, reminding her horribly of its smouldering eyes. It was a good thing the creature was dead… but how many more were out there, just waiting to come through the burgh like she had? Had the wolf swum up through layers and layers of icy water like she did? She shuddered as she looked out across the black waters of the Loch, suddenly feeling a lot more respect for the people who kept the surrounding countryside safe.
The walk home felt even longer than the walk to the village had felt. They’d stopped briefly in town, Donal tapping on the door of a particular cottage and exchanging a brief conversation with the man who’d answered. The village leader, Anna assumed — not that she could hear any part of the conversation. The men seemed to be keen to make sure she didn’t hear anything of what was going on. Well, fine. If nobody’s life was in danger, she was happy to be kept in the dark for a little while at least.
With the cold air and the long walk, her arm was throbbing fiercely by the time they got back to the castle. They came through the gate, welcomed by the soldiers who were guarding the wall — a skeleton crew, she wondered? How many of the castle’s armed men had come with them on this trip? Not that many… Maeve had said there were half a hundred soldiers, and there were only twenty with them. As they stepped into the main hall, the servants all scattered, carrying the various equipment back to where it was kept — there was a sense of bone-deep fatigue in all of them. Near-death experiences would do that to a person, Anna thought with a grimace. She was looking forward to getting some sleep too.
To her surprise — and great irritation — one of the guards escorted her up the winding spiral staircase to her room. He was a big man, almost as tall as Donal, but nowhere near as good-looking — a bit too grizzled, with a weak chin and pale eyes. Not her type at all. And he wouldn’t speak to her, despite her efforts to engage him in conversation as they climbed the stairs. He must have been given orders to freeze her out. Fair enough, she supposed… though the insult of having an armed guard escort her to her quarters rankled. It got worse when she realized he intended to stay by her door, stepping inside the room to retrieve a chair to sit on.
“Are you kidding?”
“Orders,” he said. It was the first word he’d said to her during their entire acquaintanceship — he wouldn’t even give her his name. Downright insulting, if she was honest.
“You’re going to just — sit outside my room all night. Seriously? Aren’t you tired from the fight?”
“Orders,” he said again.
“I’m going to call you Orders if you don’t tell me your name,” she threatened. The man didn’t react. He was already sitting in his chair, his pale eyes fixed on the opposite wall. He was an older soldier, she could tell. Old soldiers learned the knack for falling asleep with their eyes open. He’d still be alert, though — she tested that and found out pretty quickly that he wasn’t going to let her steal away down the corridor. He just stood up, grabbed her by the arm, and deposited her unceremoniously in her room.
She paced a litt
le, frowning. It was a perfectly nice room but knowing that she couldn’t leave made her hate it immediately. Stir-crazy. She’d always been like this. Very hard to get Anna Clarke into a place she didn’t want to be. It wasn’t claustrophobia, exactly — just sheer bloody-mindedness. What was she going to do about this? How was she going to earn her freedom again? She’d have to talk to Donal… ugh. That idea filled her with revulsion. Still too angry to reason with him. A night of sleep would help… but as she went to remove her damaged jacket, she winced, remembering her wounded arm. Better have a look at that.
It wasn’t as bad as she thought, all told. Once the jacket and shirt were off and she could get a good look at the wound, she could tell it was shallow. Still, it would be worth giving it a clean, and getting in touch with a healer as soon as possible. Thankfully, there was a bowl of water set out for her to wash in — she used most of it to daub her wound clean, hissing at the feeling of the water on the torn flesh. Nasty, but manageable … so long as she kept it clear of infection. Hadn’t she heard that honey could do as an antiseptic salve in an emergency? This probably counted as an emergency.
Well — that was about the end of what she could do tonight. She stuck her head out to check on her guard buddy.
“Just so you know, I’ll need to see a medic or a healer or something in the morning.”
The man shrugged at her, turning his eyes back to the wall, and she scowled.
“You’re great, really. Making me feel right at home.”
Great. From honored guest to prisoner. All for the crime of saving a few servants from being mauled to death by an enormous fairy wolf. What a great night she was having.
Chapter 36
Anna knew that she should get some sleep. There was no point pacing angrily back and forth in her room all night — she’d just get more exhausted, and it wasn’t like it would achieve anything. But the idea of sleep was completely repellent to her. She was wired — the aftermath of the adrenaline of the fight was one thing, but the fight with Donal was a separate and completely electrifying source of energy. God, she hated him! And to her intense dismay, that frustration had done absolutely nothing to dim the crush she’d developed on him. Quite the opposite, in fact. Him treating her so poorly… it just made her want to grab hold of him and show him what a modern woman could do. She blushed a little, alone in her room, at the force of her thoughts. Best to keep those to herself.
It wasn’t long before the sun rose. She could hear the sounds of the castle waking up, and the rumbling in her stomach reminded her that she’d had a hard night and not much to eat. Food would help her heal and recover… and maybe help her think straight enough to talk her way out of this mess she was in. But when she opened the door, she found a different guard sitting in the same chair, in an identical position. For a moment she thought her new friend had just shapeshifted, so closely did his pose resemble his predecessor’s… but when he looked up at her with dark eyes instead of pale ones, she realized they’d just changed over.
But not much else had changed. When she moved toward the corridor, the guard stood up, effortlessly blocking her way. Shorter, this one, but broader. She toyed with the idea of taking him on, trying to knock him down… then thought better of it. Not only was he armed, she was weakened from a sleepless night and probably a bit of blood loss from her arm. And it wouldn’t do to make her injury worse. She was worried enough about infection setting in as it was — she’d been checking the wound over and over, frightened to cover it with anything that might transfer bacteria to it.
“I’m not even allowed to have breakfast?” she demanded irritably, glaring at the guard as he prevented her from leaving the corridor.
“Orders,” he said flatly.
She ground her teeth. She was starting to hate that word. She wished fiercely that she hadn’t given up her dirk. Missing it made her realize how much she’d appreciated it when she had it. There was something about a weapon — even a little one — that just made her feel ready for action. And it had saved not only her life, but the lives of all the servants, too. She gritted her teeth as she stormed back into her room. Now she was expected to starve on top of everything else?
But thankfully, a savior came to her rescue. About half an hour after her attempt to leave the room, there came a timid knocking on the door, and a soft voice saying something to the guard — she heard Blair’s name, and grinned. The headwoman must have sent her some sustenance. Excellent. And sure enough, the door creaked open to reveal Emily, looking a little tired but smiling brightly at Anna, a large covered tray in her hands. But her face fell when she looked at Anna.
“Oh! Your arm.”
“It’s fine,” she said dismissively, shrugging.
“The creature last night?”
“Yeah, but it’ll heal. It got me through the jacket, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”
“You’ll need bandages, dressing…” Emily frowned, glancing over her shoulder and lowering her voice. “The guard should have sent for someone. This isn’t right, you being held prisoner like this. You saved all of our lives.”
“I know,” Anna said, disarmed by the look of petulance on Emily’s face. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to Donal eventually, once he’s had a chance to cool down. I’ll be out of here in no time.”
“Well, I brought you some breakfast,” she said, placing the tray down on the table. “And a few extra pastries,” she added in a low voice. “I wish I could do more to thank you, but…”
“Pastries is the best thanks I could ask for,” Anna assured her, smiling. The fruit pastries the kitchen made were an absolute delicacy — it made the imprisonment a little bit less galling. Just a little bit — but enough. And to her delight, there was an enormous bowl of porridge, with what looked like extra honey dolloped on top. “Thank you, Emily,” she said sincerely, taking the girl’s hands in hers and squeezing them gratefully.
“Least I could do,” Emily replied, smiling at her. “I’ll make sure a healer gets to you and sorts that arm out.”
She watched her go, feeling warm. It was hard to stay angry and frustrated in the face of kindness from friends. Or when there was a huge bowl of porridge to eat. She settled down at the table — then, on second thoughts, picked the bowl up and stole over to the bed with it. Why not have breakfast in bed? After all, she was a prisoner — may as well get some creature comforts where she could.
She’d just finished the meal when there was a gentle tapping on the door. She rose to answer it when it became clear that the person outside wasn’t going to do so — and to her surprise, when she opened the door it was Blair herself, the headwoman, that imperious gaze surprisingly soft. She swept into the room — the guard outside didn’t seem to dare challenge her right to go where she pleased, which made Anna suppress a giggle. It seemed there were some limits to the power of orders, after all.
“I heard what you did,” Blair said, straight to the point as always. “Saved some of my people, got yourself in trouble with the Laird.”
Was the woman about to scold her? She wasn’t sure she could take another tongue-lashing. But Blair just set down the little basket she was carrying on the table.
“You did well. I’m here to sort out your arm.”
“You’re a healer?”
“Aye,” Blair said. “Trained with old Maggie for a few years there before I took a more permanent position running things around here. I’ve none of her Fae talent, but I know a thing or two about stopping a wound from festering. Which that one will, if you’re not careful,” she added, nodding at the torn skin. “Unseelie are dirty beasts.”
“I cleaned it out with water when I got back, but — well, I couldn’t exactly go out and get bandages,” she said, glaring toward the door.
Blair waved a hand dismissively.
“Water’s good. This is better.” In the basket was a little glass jar of some kind of ointment. “Honey and some wild herbs. And bandages,” she added, gesturing. “Let me.”
“There,” Blair said with some satisfaction. “Now, don’t be expecting an overnight miracle like Maggie’s work. I’m good, but I’m not magic.”
“Thank you, Blair. I know you’re busy.”
“Never too busy to repay a favor. You saved my people, I save your arm. Good trade, I think.” The woman dusted her hands off then scooped up the basket, clearly done with this particular visit. “Don’t take any nonsense from Donal,” she said at the doorway, glancing sharply back over his shoulder. “He’s a good man, but he needs someone to tell him the truth. Don’t back down.”
Then she was gone, leaving Anna alone. With her arm clean and bandaged and her belly full of food, she felt at a loss for what to worry about. Sooner or later, she’d confront Donal — but the man was probably asleep after all the exertion of the night before. Probably a good idea for her to try, too, though she was still feeling extremely restless. She climbed into bed, pulling the blankets carefully over her bandaged arm, and settled into the pillows, trying to calm her racing mind. She just kept arguing with a phantom version of Donal in her mind — telling him off, giving him advice he was never going to follow, concocting devastatingly witty ripostes to all of his insults toward her. But her body was weary, even if her mind was still racing. It wasn’t long before the comforting warmth of the bed began to soothe her toward sleep. She focused on her breathing, trying to encourage her body toward sleep… what better way to pass the time (and help her arm heal) than to sleep?
RESCUED BY THE HIGHLANDER Page 22
