As for Callum, he needed to get Isla somewhere safe, and fast. His strength was waning. Every step he took felt like the trunk of an oak was strapped to each of his legs. His skin felt cool and hot all at once and his eyes seemed to be struggling to take in whatever he was looking at without wavering. Mungo’s appearance was blurred and uneven as he trotted to a stop in front of them.
Cal peered down at the woman in his arms, his eyes settling on her beautiful face with ease. His heart stammered in his chest and his knees grew weak. A tiny part of him was relieved Isla couldn’t see him right now, for if she could he believed she’d be afraid for their safety. After all she’d been through, the last thing he wanted was to ever see her afraid again.
He drew a much-needed breath and lifted Isla into Mungo’s saddle and settled her hands around the pommel. With the last of his strength, he mounted behind her and leaning forward, gathered the reins. The temptation to stay where he was, resting against Isla was strong, but now seated rather than bearing his own weight gave him a reserve of strength he wasn’t aware he had. He welcomed it, and pleased with the small distance Dalziel and Conan kept between where Mungo stood awaiting direction, Cal delivered the final part of their agreement along with something more.
‘I suggest you ask Morgan about how he got his scar.’
Lines of confusion appeared between Dalziel’s brows a moment before he spoke. ‘I ken how Morgan got his scar. Where is—’
‘I suggest you ask him for the truth,’ Cal said cutting Dalziel off and feeling Isla stiffen.
‘Where is my son?’
‘Follow the Mounth south until an overhead branch from an old oak on the right spans across the road. Morgan is in a cluster of trees to the left. Go now, but dinnae rush into the small wood, else you’ll spook his horse.’
Without another word, Cal steered Mungo away from the inn, the sound of Dalziel and Conan’s running feet as they ran for their mounts faded as Mungo carried them along the Mounth heading north. Aberdeen might not be Isla’s choice of where she wanted to go, but right now he needed to put distance between them and her former betrothed and with the day coming to a close, Aberdeen was closer. He needed her somewhere safe for the night and believed they would make it into the town before the sentries closed the gates.
He kept Mungo at a steady pace somewhere between a trot and a run. Isla didn’t ask where they were going and Cal took pleasure in knowing that she trusted him enough to see her safe. The wind created by the speed they travelled cooled the heat intermittently firing his cheeks and chilled him to the bone. He reached down and tested the fabric of his plaid over his right hip and discovered the wet stickiness now claimed the length of the garment on that particular side.
He’d lost a lot of blood and knew it was the reason for his lack of strength and the weariness creeping over him. Cal breathed deeply of Isla’s heart-stirring scent, the smell of her enough to keep him awake a little longer. He had to get her inside the gates before they closed. If something had gone wrong and Morgan had breathed his last before his father had arrived, Cal had no doubt Dalziel would come after him. Making the curfew would at least give them the night to think and to find Isla somewhere safe to go. They couldn’t return to her childhood home, at least not yet, for it would be the first place Dalziel would expect them to go.
A mist-filled darkness hovered about the fringes of Cal’s mind and thoughts. He inhaled the cooling day’s air and the scent he favoured more than any other. Isla. He must keep her safe. He had to get her through the gates. His head grew heavy and he caught himself on a half-nod. God help him. He couldn’t seem to hold his head up. If he fell forward, he’d crush the woman he’d give his life to protect.
He slowed Mungo to walk but refused to stop and dismount. He doubted he’d have the strength to remount if he did. ‘Isla, move behind me.’
‘Why? How?’
He ignored the first question. ‘Turnabout and climb around me. I’ll nae let you fall.’ God above, dinnae let her fall.
Isla shifted sideways in the saddle and Cal gently took hold of her right hand and placed it around the left side of his neck. The change in position meant her face was closer to his. She lifted her chin as if to see where he’d settled her hand; and her mouth, her lips were close enough to kiss.
Cal drank in the sight of her, his heart pounding sluggishly in his chest for the wanting of her. She held still, didn’t draw away, her nostrils flaring as she exhaled an uneven breath. She wanted him to kiss her, to taste the softness of her mouth with his. He felt his head lowering. Shadows flickered in and out of his gaze. His eyelids grew heavy as if someone were pressing them closed. He blinked them open, holding the darkness at bay. But for how long.
Cal forced his spine to straighten, creating distance between himself and Isla’s tempting mouth. He cleared the lump of regret from his throat. ‘Link your arms about my neck and hold on tight.’
The tip of her tongue peeked out and moistened her lips as she reached her left hand up and around over his right shoulder. She leaned forward into him, her breast brushing his chest, his unshaven jaw grazing against her flushed cheek. He wanted to sink into her. Must keep her safe. Must get her through the gates.
He reached down and grasping her right ankle, set it onto the middle of his right thigh and did the same with her other foot. ‘You need to stand, turn and throw your left leg over Mungo’s back. I’ll help you. Ready?’ Her soft cheek slid up and down his as she nodded. ‘Now.’
Cal grasped her waist and lifted most of her weight as she pushed up to pivot about on his thigh. A sharp stabbing pain claimed his side and with it small white dots filled the black behind his clenched lids. He gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. He could not give into the darkness. He needed to stay awake and be alert. They didn’t have far to go. He could do this. He must.
He inched forward in the saddle to give her room to settle behind him. ‘Stretch your foot out over Mungo’s back.’
‘I’m trying, but I’m afraid I’ll hurt ye.’
‘Isla, you need to hurry.’ With her slight weight on his thigh and her arms locked tight about his neck, Cal’s strength and wits were waning fast. The instant her front collided with his back, he reached for the length of rope secured to the saddle and tying one end about the pommel, he passed the other end to Isla. ‘Isla, pass this about my back and give it to me on the other side?’ She did as he bid and he fastened the second end to the first. ‘Hold onto me.’
‘Why have ye tied yerself to Mungo?’ Her hands settled at his sides.
Cal looked ahead and almost shouted with relief at the sight of the city gates up ahead. ‘We’re about to enter the gates. You cannae go home. I’ll get you to the friary. Ask for Brother Mirek.’
‘Why? Where are ye going?’
The guard studied them closely as they approached. Cal slowed Mungo. ‘Can you direct us to the Dominican Friary?’ Cal knew the friary’s location but the sentry’s expression altered from suspicious to one of surprise, as he’d hoped.
‘Aye, head on up by St Nicholas’s Church. The friary is further on up the hill to the left.’
Cal offered a nod in thanks as Mungo carried them through the gates into the town and his shoulders sagged in relief. He struggled to find the strength to answer Isla’s question, instead settling his hand over the top of hers. Cal steered his mount to the left, blinking the blurriness from his eyes and fighting off a great weight that settled over him and around him and had somehow seeped inside him.
They rode by Isla’s cottage, quiet, still, abandoned, and on by the other houses lined along the same road. He saw no one and no one saw them. Even the grand sight of St Nicholas’ Church failed to boost Cal in mind, body or spirit. He’d never suffered such weariness. His eyes closed in a slow, welcome blink he longed to continue.
‘Callum? Why do ye nae answer me? Where are ye going?’
Cal heard the worry, the fear in her voice, but couldn’t seem to answer.
The
y turned left at the end of the road and Cal set their course for the friary a short distance away on the top of a small rise. The shadows that had been threatening to pull him under since leaving the inn grabbed hold of him now and tugged.
‘Callum, please dinnae leave me.’
Her tears were close to falling. He wanted to stop them. Couldn’t. He guided Mungo through the open-gated entrance to the friary and stopped his mount. Cal squeezed her fingers as the shadows dragged him down into their dark depths. I’m here, Isla. I just cannae protect you right now.
Chapter 18
‘Callum? Callum, please answer me?’ The warmth and security surrounding her fell away the moment his hand slid from hers. She ran her palms up from his hips to the softness of the leather vest covering his back. She shook him, nothing, no movement and no answer. She shook him again. ‘Callum, please. Ye must wake up.’ He was always strong, unyielding. Was always there for her. Had protected her, cared for her. He’d saved her. So many times. She sniffled and it was then she felt the moisture on her cheeks.
Fear for Callum scattered goose flesh all over her skin.
Please God watch over him. Let him be alright.
She had to do something. She needed to help him. Sitting here sobbing like a babe wasn’t doing either of them any good. She swiped the tears from her face and inhaled a deep breath thick with the familiar smell of Aberdeen’s sea air.
I’ll get you to the friary.
Though she couldn’t see where they were, Callum was a man of his word. They must be at the friary, or at least within its grounds.
Ask for Brother Mirek.
She needed to find him. She needed to get down from Mungo.
Isla ran her shaking hands over Callum’s back. Though he was still seated within the saddle, his upper body had slumped forward. Silently praying the rope about his middle was enough to hold him where he was, she exhaled a breath that shook all the way out and grasped the edge of one side of the saddle. Shifting her weight onto her arms, she threw her right leg over Mungo’s rear and slowly started to lower herself to the ground.
When her arms had reached their outstretched limits, she pointed her toes in the hope of them touching the ground, but they brushed nothing but air. She hung there like a fish snared on the end of a line until her fingers started cramping, her shoulders ached and her arms began to feel as if they were being pulled from her body. How tall was Mungo? She’d ridden him often enough but never had she seemed to sit at such a great height. She needed to let go.
She drew in a strained breath and released her hold. The soles of her feet hit the hard ground with a thud that sent her staggering back for several wild, stumbling steps, but using her arms, she caught her balance and finally stopped teetering backward. She’d done it. Clamping her arms about her middle, she rejoiced in the renewed sense of achievement swarming inside her, but only for a moment. Callum needed help. He needed her to find it.
Lifting her arms out in front of her, she took a few tentative steps forward, relieved to feel the wool of Callum’s plaid-covered thigh beneath her fingertips. Edging sideways, her hand followed the contours of his leg until his knee gave way to the wiry hair of Mungo’s mane.
She shifted her palm along his smooth coat and whispered, ‘Look after yer master until I return.’
Isla swallowed and allowed the last strands of coarse hair to slip from her fingers before holding her hands out in front of her and taking her first tentative step toward the unknown. She couldn’t see what was in front of her. Didn’t know where she was heading but prayed she was at least walking in the right direction. ‘Brother Mirek?’ If the friar had been standing directly before her, he’d have had difficulty hearing her call his name. She cleared her throat and swallowed and called for him once more. ‘Brother Mirek?’ Better. ‘Can anyone hear me? Is anyone there?’
The ground fell away from under her leather boots. She stumbled but found her footing again. Heart thumping wildly, she stopped, hand to chest, until her heartbeat slowed to a steadier pace.
Ignoring the temptation to return to Mungo’s side, she pressed on, one uncertain step at a time. ‘Brother Mirek?’ Could no one hear her? She called again, louder. ‘Brother Mirek?’ Still no answer, nothing. Had they made it to the friary or had Callum lost his fight to stay awake before he’d had time to get them there? Callum. Was he still alive? She’d smelt the blood from his wound before she’d felt the sticky evidence soaking into his plaid. How much blood had he lost? Too much to recover?
A sob filled her throat. She choked it back with naught but sheer denial. He will heal. He will live. She refused to accept any other outcome. ‘Brother Mirek.’ She shouted the name.
‘Aye, lass. I am ’ere. What is it?’
‘Brother Mirek?’ Isla repeated his name, hardly believing she’d found the man she’d been calling. The man Callum had asked her to find.
‘Aye, lass. I am Brother Mirek.’
‘He needs yer help. Please help him.’
Warm hands took hold of her chilled fingers. ‘’oo needs …? Blessed Father.’
The kind voice broke off and Isla could only guess he’d seen the horse and the man slumped along its back.
‘’Tis Callum. He’s hurt. Please help him.’
‘Of course. Wait ’ere. I will return.’
With a reassuring touch on the top of her hand, Isla stood unmoving and listened to numerous sets of feet hurrying to and fro as she waited for Brother Mirek to come for her. She didn’t have long to wait.
‘I ’ave returned. Come. I am Brother Mirek. What is yer name?’ Brother Mirek placed a guiding hand beneath her elbow and together they started walking.
‘My name is Isla Beaton.’
‘Isla? Aye.’ They’d only taken several steps before he added. ‘I am sorry for yer loss.’
Isla nodded, but was surprised by the friar’s response. ‘Ye knew my father?’
‘Aye, sadly only for a short time. I ’eard ’is confession, but it was Callum ’oo cared for ’im.’
Isla now understood the three men had met at the leper house.
‘I will take ye to a chamber where ye can rest.’ Isla stopped. ‘What is it, child?’
‘I thank ye for yer help, but I will stay with Callum. And I’m nae a child.’ She fought to keep her voice firm and even, but knew she failed.
‘I understand yer concern for Callum but he needs assistance and it would be unseemly for ye to remain in the same chamber while his wounds are—’
‘Brother Mirek,’ Isla said interrupting the friar’s explanation. ‘I thank ye for yer concerns, but Callum’s wounds have left him senseless and if ye haven’t noticed, I am blind.’
‘I am fully aware of both of yer conditions, but—’
‘He saved my life.’ Isla stopped and turned to grasp the hand guiding her. ‘Dinnae make me leave him now when … if … I … I’ll nae be a bother, ye have my word. Just, please, I need to stay with him?’
Isla stood waiting precious moments for the friar’s decision. She couldn’t see him but could feel the weight of his gaze on her face. She’d almost spoken the words she’d kept hidden inside her heart, words from her heart, but fear of saying those words aloud and then losing someone else she—
Brother Mirek’s warm hand covered the back of hers. ‘Aye, come.’
Isla squeezed the fingers she held as she fought back a tide of tearful relief and allowed Brother Mirek to escort her to where the others had taken Callum.
Callum. He had to live. Isla didn’t know what she’d do if he — She cut off the thought. Surviving was his only choice. She wouldn’t let the outcome be anything else.
The air about her changed as they left the coolness of the evening settling outside and entered the friary. She smelt tallow and vegetables and imagined thick candles arranged on every surface and a large cast-iron pot bubbling over flames in a wide stone hearth. They turned a corner and a warmth missing from where they’d come brushed her cheeks as the room clo
sed in about her, welcoming her and offering reassurance.
‘Isla, sit ’ere,’ Brother Mirek said quietly, and assisted her onto a chair.
She sank into the welcoming softness of a large cushion but kept hold of the friar’s hand when he made to release hers.
‘I thank ye, Brother Mirek.’ She gently squeezed his fingers. ‘Is he … is Callum here?’
Again the friar covered her chilled hand with his much larger, warm hand. ‘Aye, lass. Callum lies near. I go to help tend him now. If ye need anything, just ask.’ With a final comforting tap, he let her go.
Fingers entwined and clenching in her lap, Isla sat upright and rigid in the chamber that grew heavy with the scent of healing herbs. Flames crackled and their heat bathed her right cheek and side as they fed on kindling and logs in the hearth. Low murmurs and the soft rustling of fabric had her holding her breath at times, hoping to hear anything anyone said. But she was too far away from them and they spoke too softly for her to hear anything at all. Despite having already determined Callum’s fate, the anticipation and the not knowing how he was faring each and every moment held her spine hostage and her shoulders braced, ready to hold a great weight she struggled to believe she could bear.
An unseen fist clutched her heart and squeezed, the imagined pain so fierce she bowed her head and did something she had not done in a very long time. She prayed.
Dear God, I ken it has been some time since we, since I, last spoke with ye, but there is someone, someone ye likely already ken, someone who needs ye to heal him. He is good and kind and has spent his life watching out for and protecting others, people he does not ken. People like me.
Isla lifted her chin and listened for any new sounds she may have missed while lost in prayer. The rustling had stopped, but the murmurs and the crackling of the fire continued. She waited a moment more and then another but heard naught but a strained silence as she waited to hear something from the friars tending him. Waited for them to tell her how he fared. A heart-twisting silence. A never-ending wait.
The Saint Page 18
