The driver proved to be Georgie Rogan, whom Cahira had only met once. Georgie went around, opened the carriage door, and helped Aisha down. A grey haired bitch with a worn face, dressed in simple homespun robes climbed out after Aisha and they came into the shop together.
"Cahira Sinclair, I would like you meet Glenna Fitzgerald, Ramsey's mother."
"Nice to meet you." Glenna sounded bewildered and overwhelmed, uncertain of what to say. She stood wringing her hands nervously. Her eyes were puffy and red.
Cahira hugged her. "I'm so sorry about your son."
Glenna dissolved into tears. "Ramsey was such a good cub"
"Let's go upstairs. He's been asking for you." Cahira put her arm around Glenna's shoulder and turned to Aisha. "I'll be right back. I think we should talk."
Aisha nodded. "I think so too."
Cahira took Glenna upstairs. The folding screen had been extended, blocking the view of Ramsey from the rest of the room. Finn slept quietly on his bed, a dose of poppy milk having put him under.
They stepped beyond the screen. Erskine and Morcar sat by the bed. Glenna let out a small worried noise and went to Ramsey's side.
Erskine's eyes widened briefly when he saw Glenna. He took hold of Robert's arm and edged him away from the bed. "Let's leave them alone."
Robert looked dubious and curious, but went with Erskine. "Who is she?"
"His mother."
Glenna kissed Ramsey's forehead, and his eyes fluttered open. "Ma?"
"I'm here and I'm not leaving." She bent over him and kissed his cheek.
Cahira withdrew from the room and headed down to the shop where Aisha waited for her. On returning to the front room, she saw Aisha sitting at the table in the rear talking to Kady. She gestured for Aisha to come with her and they went into the back room and closed the door.
She indicated that Aisha should sit at the square table at the side, rather than the long table Cahira used for working, and grabbed a bottle of brandy from a cabinet along with glasses.
Aisha folded her hands together in front of her as Cahira settled into the opposite chair. "What was it you wished to talk about?"
"With all that's happening" Cahira poured for both of them and handed Aisha a glass of brandy. "Well, I thought maybe we should put our differences aside."
"I never had a problem with you, Cahira. Not really. What I never understood was why you had a problem with me."
Cahira took a large swallow of brandy, produced a handkerchief from her pocket, and dabbed her mouth. "It's the Redhands"
"You remember that day when you came to the manor with that babe in your arms?"
"I'll never forget it. I didn't want to go to you. Baroucha insisted."
"Baroucha." Aisha's lips gathered into a little knot of annoyance. "She told me the babe was Tarrant's and then you started blathering about sleeping with half the army."
"I must have seemed mad."
"As a hatter."
Cahira lowered her head, her cheeks coloring. "I was afraid you'd take Bran away from me."
"I would never do that."
"There's a curse on the Redhands."
Aisha exhaled heavily and considered her words for several breaths. "I know. I've always believed in it. Claw and I we used to have terrible fights over it. It's why I put off having another child so long."
"I can understand that."
"Tell me the truth, Cahira. Is your son, my grandson?"
Cahira flinched. "I always believed that so long as they did not claim the name, then the curse wouldn't touch them."
"Do you know the exact words that Alistar spoke?"
"No. Too many things happened and so swiftly. I blotted most of it out of my mind. It was that or go truly mad."
"And I can understand that." Aisha patted Cahira's hand.
"Please don't tell Claw."
"I'll not tell him, if you'll promise me something in exchange."
"What?"
"There's a line in the curse at least the way I first heard it about an exile. That must be Brock."
Cahira blinked. "But Claw rescinded the order of banishment on him. He's not an exile."
"That can be argued several ways, Cahira. Just promise me, if Brock comes home, you'll tell him."
"Why Brock?"
"Did you ever meet him?"
"No."
"He was twenty-three when Suleahan banished him. That was ninety years ago. Brock visited us one summer when Merissa was twelve. The odd thing is, he still looked twenty-three."
"That's not possible."
"Isn't it? Brock was always odd. Supposedly, Brock and Fianait are twins. Fianait is blonde. Brock is the only Redhand ever born with jet black hair."
"Are you suggesting he's not a Redhand?"
"Not at all. Suleahan is stamped on Brock's face as plain as day. However, a few years ago, I heard of a bird that lives in the far west. It's called a cuckoo."
Cahira shook her head. "Never heard of it. What has this bird to do with Brock?"
"Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. You see, a cuckoo lays its eggs in the nests of other birds and those birds raise its young as their own."
A loud gasp escaped Cahira. "You're suggesting that Sorcha was not his mother?"
"Precisely. Now will you make me that promise?"
"You have my word."
"Good enough. Now, can I go up and see my great-grandson?"
Cahira rose and extended her hand to Aisha. "Yes."
"Is it all right if I tell him I know?"
"We'll tell him together."
* * * *
Morning came and with it the burning sensations in his leg that woke Kynyr from a sound sleep. Two weeks in bed had left Kynyr feeling restless and frustrated. Every time he had tried to stand, the wounded leg had refused to support him and he ended up on the floor. The only things that made his circumstances the least bit bearable were Pandeena's secret midnight visits and Kady's daytime company. And Aisha, Kynyr amended his thought. The day that she and Cahira came up and told him that Aisha knew he was her great-grandson, they had all hugged and wept for an hour. Kynyr had not realized, until then, how deprived he had felt in keeping Cahira's edict of silence.
He rolled onto his side, grabbing his left leg as movement sent a rush of pain through it, and stretched his other hand toward the dosing glass and the bottle of poppy milk on the nightstand.
"I'll get it." Todd walked in, carrying a set of crutches, leaned them against the headboard of Kynyr's bed, and poured a measure of poppy milk into the dosing glass, which he then handed to Kynyr with a nod at the crutches. "Try those out."
Kynyr drank the poppy milk and scowled at the crutches. "I'm not getting around like a bloody cripple."
"You put weight on that leg before it's ready to take it and you will cripple yourself."
Pushing the glass onto the nightstand, Kynyr settled back on the bed with a sigh, eyeing the crutches. "You made them?"
"Ayup."
Kynyr's gaze drifted to the quilt that Kady had thrown over him last night when the first bite of autumn chill had become noticeable. It had slid down around his hips when he tried to reach the dosing glass on the nightstand and lay in disheveled folds across his lap. He glanced at Todd's implacable expression, glanced at the crutches again, glanced at the quilt, and remembered how difficult it had always been to argue with Todd; which was why he did it so seldom. "Grab me a robe out of the closet."
A small grin of victory teased the corners of Todd's mouth as he fetched a brown robe and tossed it at Kynyr, who caught and shrugged into it.
Kynyr swung his legs over the side, got the crutches positioned beneath his armpits, and levered himself up.
Todd knelt in front of Kynyr, studied his legs, and gave him a nod. "Now put a little weight on it and tell me what it feels like."
Kynyr put his foot down, winced sharply, and shifted, holding his bad leg with the knee bent. "Shit."
"I expect so. Now put a bit of weight on it again and
stop when the pain gets bad."
"I hate this." Kynyr eased his injured leg down.
Todd straightened. "That's enough. Let's take a walk."
"Can I see Finn?"
"I need to talk to you about something first. How about the kitchen?"
Kynyr maneuvered to the door. "When I thought he was dead."
"Broke your heart? I felt the same about Tarrant. He was easy to love. I think everyone in Red Wolf loved Tarrant."
"Yeah." Kynyr concentrated on walking and Todd followed. "I haven't put a moon-offering on his grave in two weeks."
"The cubs took care of it."
"They didn't get caught?"
"If ever a pair of cubs were born sneaks, it's Rory and Hamish. They took Cooley along. He's learning." Todd stepped around Kynyr and opened the kitchen door for him.
"How's he doing?"
"We haven't told him yet, but he's a wealthy little wolf."
"He is?"
"I decided it was time to tell Claw who Cooley was in case the cub had an inheritance coming from his dad. Cullen had a surprising amount of gold set away for his retirement."
"Cullen was wealthy?"
"Not quite. However, Eideard left everything he had to Cooley also. And he had a King's ransom in jewelry on him when he died including Cullen's lost rings."
Eideard's words to Kynyr the morning they were getting ready to leave Hell's Widow flooded back into Kynyr's mind. Anger sent a flush across Kynyr's features.
"Gods damn it all to hell! Ellie." Kynyr dropped into a chair at the kitchen table and leaned his crutches against the chair beside him. "I told Eideard to stay away from her. Ten to one she's dead. Eideard killed her."
"Why?"
"Ellie betrayed Cullen. She drugged him. Cullen was taken without a fight." Kynyr launched into a description of what had happened to Cullen Blackwood, unable to repress the outpouring of emotionally charged words.
A loud sob made both myn turn. Kady stood in the doorway, pale and shaking, her knuckles in her mouth.
When Todd rose to go to her, Kady turned and fled. Kynyr reached for his crutches, but Todd shook his head. "You wait here. I'm going to get your gram."
Kynyr itched with restlessness waiting for Todd to return. His thoughts began straying to Finn and Ramsey. The kitchen seemed too quiet. He wondered where the cubs were, glanced at the window to judge the time, and decided that Cooley must have left for his duties with Georgie Rogan, and the Scott cubs had not arrived for work yet.
Each passing moment made Kynyr want to see Finn, to reassure himself with his own eyes that his spiritbrother was recovering from his wounds. It was one thing to be told so and another to see it with his own eyes. There were also things he wanted to ask Finn about their last night in Hell's Widow the night that Eideard had stayed away until past midnight. He took his crutches under his arms and headed out, pausing at the door to see if there were any signs of Todd returning. Seeing that no one was in the hallway, Kynyr headed for the infirmary, and slipped inside, closing the door behind him.
Kynyr scanned the long room. Finn lay on the nearest bed with one of those 'pressed' books in his hands, reading. Cahira had begun importing them from Creeya and offering a few for sale in the shop. A folding screen had been extended beyond the next bed, and Kynyr suspected that Ramsey was on the other side, although why Cahira would want to isolate him from view like that sent a tremor of concern through Kynyr.
"Hey, Finn!" Kynyr leaned his crutches between the wall and the nightstand to hobble closer to Finn, using the furniture to spare his leg.
Finn closed the book, his eyes lit up when he saw Kynyr, and he laid the book on the nightstand.
"How're you doing, Finn?"
"Fine except when I eat. My belly's damned sore." Finn's mouth curved into a rueful grin.
Kynyr grabbed his spiritbrother, hugging him tight. "When I thought you were dead"
His grin dissolved into a brittle smile and tears of relief came into Finn's eyes as his arms closed around Kynyr. "Same here, brother."
Kynyr broke the embrace and settled into a chair beside the bed. "Damnit, Finn! You should have kept going. You shouldn't have gone back for me."
Finn tilted his head in a sidewise nod. "The Dreaded Horde would have skinned me if I hadn't."
"There's that."
"Death by hairbrush is not a pleasant thought."
"Agreed." Kynyr chuckled and then sobered abruptly, indicating the folding screen with his chin. "How's Ramsey?"
"Didn't they tell you?" Finn looked troubled.
"What?"
"He's got gangrene."
Kynyr felt his world tilt with grief, and he realized what Todd had wanted to tell him. He clenched his eyes shut, and his mouth thinned. "No, they didn't."
"I'm sorry."
Kynyr opened his eyes, and his expression had gone distant. "Has his family come to visit him?"
"Only his mother. Aisha had to go and get her, or Glenna would not have come. Erskine rode over to Blue Rock the day after Eideard's funeral and told them. From what I hear, Ramsey's brother is an unforgiving sort."
"That's a shame."
"Tell me about it. Erskine stops by most evenings and sits with him. Glenna's been here since last night."
Kynyr grabbed his crutches and limped across the infirmary to the extended screen. He hesitated for an instant, steeling himself to see what condition his friend Ramsey was in. Then he went around it.
Ramsey's face was flushed with fever and his breathing stertorous. His round cheeks had become sunken and the bones in his face stood out as if all the muscles beneath his skin had melted away. A chair sat close to the head of the bed. The nightstand beside it had a dosing glass and several bottles clustered in the center. An elderly bitch that Kynyr did not recognize sat on the far of the bed beside Erskine.
Kynyr walked over to the nightstand, shifted his crutches to free his hands, and picked up the purple one, reading the label: Pollendine, a narcotic pain reliever so strong and potentially addictive that healers usually reserved it for the dying. Kynyr's stomach clenched. He touched Ramsey's forehead and felt the intense heat burning his friend up from the inside.
"Ah, gods, Ramsey. Not you too."
As if there were some magic to Kynyr's touch and his voice, Ramsey's eyes fluttered open. "K-Kynyr I been waitin' for you." Ramsey shuddered, struggling for breath. "Get those assholes for me."
"Yeah, Ramsey. I'll get them. Whoever's behind this I'll get them."
A smile as sweet as a summer morn touched Ramsey's lips. His eyes closed. His body stiffened in pain for an instant and then his features went slack. Kynyr dropped his crutches and clutched his friend to his chest, but was too late. A long howl of grief erupted from Kynyr's throat and shivered through the building as he held his dead friend. The keening cries of the bitch matched his own for grief as Erskine held her.
* * * *
"This had best be important, Cooley," said Todd. "Kynyr's waiting for me in the kitchen."
"It is. We need a clubhouse and it's urgent." Cooley sat on a chair in the salle, swinging his dangling feet back and forth while watching Todd's face for the smallest sign of reaction.
"A club house?" Todd finger-combed his hair to get the tangles out and then tied it back with a strip of leather. "Well, I'd have to think about it. Sounds city-fied to me."
"Darmyk Redhand's got a treehouse."
"That's Darmyk. The barn and the garden already take up a fair bit of space."
"Could we use a corner of the loft? Darmyk said we could use the treehouse, but Miz Softpaws don't want Toby and Gille going that far after dark."
"Doesn't want."
"Miz Softpaws doesn't want"
"What's it for, really?"
Cooley gulped. He had told Rory convincing Todd to give them some space would not be easy; but he had promised to try and a promise was a promise. "A hideout we're going to hide and tell scary stories."
"You could do that in your room."
>
Cooley winced. "Kady'd be sticking her nose in all the time. The Dreaded Horde"
A droll smile preceded a soft chuckle from Todd. Cooley frowned intently, trying to figure out what Todd found so amusing.
"I have no problems with it then." Todd ruffled Cooley's hair.
"Thanks." Cooley grinned and started to slide off the chair, when he stopped with a fresh frown. "They took the arch thing down."
"Arch thing?"
"At the manor. When I went down there to exercise Bucky, the thing was gone."
Todd's face lost all expression as he exhaled heavily.
Cooley walked around and hugged Todd. "Why'd they do that?"
Todd gave Cooley a long, considering look before answering. "It means that Merissa is pregnant."
"She can get rid of it, can't she? When my ma's whores caught one in the belly, a proper dose a tansy fixed it just fine."
Todd had just lifted the bottle of whiskey to pour himself a drink when Cooley spit those last words out. He made a choking sound and the bottle veered for an instant sending the amber liquid onto the table.
"You're spilling it." Cooley grabbed the bottle and pointed the top up.
"So I am." Todd's eyebrows veered toward his hairline. "Go play, Cooley."
Cooley had just slid off the chair when a wild keening erupted through the building. He turned frightened eyes on Todd. "What's that mean?"
"Ramsey is dead."
* * * *
The first changes made in the living spaces above the shop had included the infirmary two doors down from the kitchen and a bedroom for Kady on the opposite side of the guestroom from Kynyr. She curled into a tight ball, sobbing against her pillows, a stuffed toy bear clutched in her arms.
Cahira eased the door open and waited for Kady to notice her. When several moments had passed without any acknowledgement of her presence, Cahira asked softly, "Can I come in?"
Kady raised her teary eyes, but made no move to straighten. "Yes."
Cahira sat on the edge of the bed, stroking Kady's head. "I'm sorry you had to learn the details of his death that way. I know you loved Cullen."
Kady sucked in a deep breath, struggling to put on a brave face and failing. "Cullen didn't love me. It was strictly Wild Cousins for him. Sometimes sometimes I think it was that way for me too."
Janrae Frank - [Lycan Blood 02] - Fireborn Law Page 22
