Whether Caroline could hear him or not, talking with her calmed him. “Ahhh, lass. When I have ye in my arms like this…all seems right in the world.” Ian placed a kiss upon her head. Greer came in earlier in the day to brush her hair and put it into plaits. The rose water she washed with the previous day still clung to her hair, despite all she had been through at Diana and Damon’s hands.
Damon.
Had the man not been dead already…he would have seen it done on the spot. Ian closed his eyes and tried to push the images of Caroline’s broken body far from his mind. It was a sight that would forever be fused in his memory. He inhaled a deep breath to stave off the rage that built within him, and was assailed by the calming flowery scent that was wholly Caroline’s.
“Grandma…so hot.”
Ian ran across her forehead and down her flushed cheeks. “Shhh, lass.” His voice never wavered, but remained calm.
Caroline pushed his hand away, and thrashed as she screamed. “Dark…it’s so dark! I can’t see! Her body shivered uncontrollably, as she succumbed to the rising temperature racking her body. Worried she would injure herself further; Ian lifted her in his arms and pressed her body against his own. When Caroline continued to cry out, Ian did the one thing that would banish away her fear. He rested his head against the top of Caroline’s and sung.
Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell,
Angus is here wi' dreams to sell o
Hush my wee bairnie an' sleep wi' oot fear
Dream Angus has brought ye a dream my dear
It was a song his own mother sang to him as a young boy when he awoke from a nightmare. Though Caroline continued to try and kick the covers from her legs, Ian continued.
Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell,
Angus is here wi' dreams to sell o
Hush my wee bairnie an' sleep wi' oot fear
Dream Angus has brought ye a dream my dear
Ian smiled within, as Caroline relaxed in his arms, but he did not stop until he had sung a few more verses and knew she drifted off to sleep again.
Hear the curlew cryin' o
An' the echoes dyin' o
Even the birdies are cuddled up sleepin
But my bonnie bairn is weepin' greetin'
Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell,
Angus is here wi' dreams to sell o
Hush my wee bairnie an' sleep wi' oot fear
Dream Angus has brought ye a dream my dear
Ian lingered by her side, as Caroline slept. He was not sure how much time passed, but the moon was high in the sky. Its glow peeked through the crevices in the wooden sashes at the window. No doubt the Samhain fires had been set as he ordered. A few times Caroline would murmur words that remained incoherent, but Ian would hum a few bars of the lullaby again, and she would settle back down.
He did not know if Caroline could hear him, but Ian needed to fill the silence or go mad. “I am not sure what feast ye celebrate in your time, but Samhain is near upon us. This verra eve, as a matter of fact. But do not worry. Mo Daol has everything well in hand.” He grabbed a fresh cloth from the basin. After he wrung out the excess water, he wiped her flush neck and cheeks. “When I was a lad, I was allowed to stay up and help light the bonfires. Then we would celebrate well into the next morn. However, there will be no celebrating for ye this year.” He paused. “Perhaps, Beltane.” Ian looked at her unmoving body. “I assure ye tis not a celebration ye will not want to miss, lass.” There was a slight crack in his words. “If…if ye promise not to leave me. I will show ye the proper way we celebrate such a special feast in the Highlands. I assure ye that ye will not be disappointed…”
He rested his head on the pillows, as he fought off a building ache in his throat. He laid there, and allowed the tears to flow. She was not improving. A person of her stature could not handle such prolonged fever and in her weakened state…Caroline was vulnerable, and he was powerless to protect her. To save her. How does one find the other half of his heart, only to lose hers and his in the process? Without Caroline,…there would be nothing in his heart to offer another. She and she alone was his heart. His destiny.
A knock on the door sounded, Ian looked down at Caroline and ensured she remained undisturbed by the noise. Quietly, he slid away from her and went to the door.
“Aye?”
Calum pushed past him and entered the chamber.
“What is Arrow doing in your bed?” He walked toward the footboard ready to remove the dog.
“Nay. Leave him. The beast brings her comfort. She may not be able to appreciate it, but she has taken a liking to the ugly mongrel.” Ian returned to Caroline’s side.
“Arrow is no mongrel. He’s the best hunter in his litter, and after seeing the litter Malcolm’s bitch whelped…I would bet he’s the best in the Highlands, as well.” Calum sat in the ornate wooden chair. “She’s ruined my dog, Ian.”
The corners of Ian’s mouth lifted slightly. “Nay, she has not. I will buy ye another, but Arrow stays with my lass. He needs her. Like I need her.
The room would have been silent if not for Caroline’s laboring breaths.
Whatever his brother was about to say…he did not want to hear. And yet short of bashing his brother over the head to silence his tongue he knew Calum would speak his mind.
“The lass does not look well, Ian.”
“No. Calum, I will not talk of this. Delilah has stopped in several times and keeps a close watch on her fever.” Ian left out the part where each time the Fae lass arrived, she could no longer hide her growing concern. “Do ye bring news of the festivities?”
“Aye. The bonfires are lit. Tam and Seamus, with Greer’s persuasive talents has everything under control.”
The healer was predictable and would be returning at any moment. Even Ian knew it would be a matter of time, before Caroline’s soul removed itself from this world. What he didn’t need was for Calum or Mo Daol to be by his side. If these were their last few moments together…he wanted to spend it with Caroline alone.
“If there is nothing…”
The door opened, and Delilah walked in. Not even his brother missed the Fae’s confidence when she walked into a room when she was in her healing element, but for all that, Caroline continued to weaken. She had not stirred or murmured for several hours, and her skin took on a deathly pallor.
Ian threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Delilah placed a hand to Caroline’s forehead and pulled it back, as though she was scorched by a newly snuffed torch. Ian dropped back in the chair, tilted his head upward and looked at the large, wooden beams above. When he looked back down, Delilah was placing her ear upon Caroline’s chest. It seemed a lifetime passed in a matter of a few seconds.
Delilah’s head rose she met Ian’s stare, a glazed look spread over her face. “The beating of her heart slows.”
Ian dragged a hand down his unshaven face. A war raged within him. He sat at the edge of the bed, and picked up Caroline’s small, limp hand into his own and lifted it to his lips. He was not ready to hear the words, not ready to be told he would have to let Caroline go. Forever.
He did not want to hear what either had to say, but the words could not remain unspoken. Delilah shook her head, and turned to stare out the single window of the chamber where fiery orbs dotted the countryside around the keep.
Calum looked to him, and then where Delilah stood at the window. “Tell him, Delilah. No matter how difficult…he needs to hear the words. His brother looked at him and then to Delilah’s back.
Ian hung his head. “There is nothing to say. Unless a miracle befalls her…I have no doubt the fever will fully consume her…perhaps even before the sun rises.” All that was left was to keep her comfortable until her time. Please…leave us.” His voice broke, and Calum drew closer to him, but Ian halted him with his hand. “Nay. I can not do this now. Please give me and m’lady the privacy I need…to say my farewell.” When he looked back to Calum, he was shocked to see the rim around his brothe
r’s eyes reddened as he attempted to control his own emotions.
Calum lowered his head in acquiescence, and then spun on his heel toward the door. He halted at the threshold. “I am truly sorry, Ian.”
Delilah interrupted the somber exchange between him and Calum. “Of course!” Her eyes were alight with hope.
Ian was struck dumbfounded by the healer’s misplaced enthusiasm, and by the look on Calum’s face, he was just as confused.
“Do ye not understand? Tis Samhain! Aye, the spirits, may ride freely throughout the night…but as do the Fae! T’was it not on Samhain night that my great, great, great grandmother Fenella received the Tir Nam Famhair from the Fae Queen, Nichneven herself? Perhaps, if we brought Caroline back to the stones. Surely, I have enough power to call upon the Fae Queen herself. Maybe she will be able to send Caroline back to her own time. I remember talking with her about the herbs and tinctures of her time. They can cure a man of a festering wound in less than a fortnight. If there is a chance to save her…that would be it.”
“Are ye daft, lass?” Calum retorted.
“Aye, perhaps I am daft, ye big oaf, but I for one am willing to try…if the Laird gives his permission.”
Calum and Delilah stood silent, as he contemplated the healer’s words.
“Ian! Ye can not be serious. Taking Caroline into the damp air of the night in her condition will seal her fate.”
Rage contorted Ian’s face. “She is dying, Calum!” A deep sob released. “Inside or outside…I will lose her, and I can not stop it! I could not live with myself if I did not give her every chance to survive.”
“Then I shall go with ye. Ye do not need to go it alone, brother. Tell me what ye need, and it will be done.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ian stepped into the bright light of the full moon. Caroline’s fevered body lay deathly still in his strong arms. The voluminous black and red fabric of the MacLaine plaid swallowed up her slight form. In the distance, the Samhain fires dotted along the outlying hills throughout Lochbuie, as the smell of burnt wood filled the air around them. Calum and Delilah awaited at the base of the steps already upon their mounts in bailey. Caroline’s life hung on the appearance of a Fae queen that he himself had never laid eyes on. With no other choice, Ian placed his confidence in the very mystical being that brought Caroline into his life.
Ian raced down the steps and passed Caroline’s lithe body into his brother’s waiting arms long enough for him to mount. Ian wrapped an arm around the middle of her back and then he pulled her tightly against his chest. A slight moan of discomfort came forth when he adjusted her upon his lap. “It will not be long, lass. I promise ye.” He turned toward Delilah. “Did ye find everything ye needed?”
“Aye, Laird.” She patted a full cloth sack that lay across her thighs.
With a quick tug of Artemis’s reins, Ian turned the beast toward the path that would lead them to the stone circle. “We ride!” He kicked his heels into the flanks of his mount and into the silvery light of the moon that cascaded upon the earth and would guide them to their destination. Calum and Delilah closed in on him from behind. The hammering of his heart beat in unison to his horse’s pounding hooves.
A quarter of an hour passed, but to Ian it was a lifetime before the stones came into view. He didn’t wait for assistance with the precious bundle in his grasp, but tightened his hold and dismounted. His brother lifted the heavy burlap sack and assisted Delilah from her mount. As he waited, he pressed his lips to Caroline’s forehead. “Her fever has pitched. We must hurry!”
The Fae woman needed no prompting, but took the lead. Ian and his brother followed her to the center of the sacred circle. “The sack, Calum. Bring it to me.” His brother did as she bade and then stepped back into the shadows holding the torch.
Delilah pulled various items from the bag and explained as she went to work. “I must leave an offering to Nichneven before I ask for an intersession on Caroline’s behalf.”
She took out several stubs of candles and then dumped the remainder of the sack’s contents onto the ground. Several yellow and green gourds spilled forth followed by several ripe apples. Delilah pulled a small dirk from her leather belt, sliced one of the gourds in half, and hollowed out the inside. She took the two candle stubs and placed one in each half.
Delilah reached into one of the pockets of her arisaid and removed a single rowan branch. She motioned to Calum. “I need to light the candles.” Calum stepped forward with the torch. The Fae lass went about her work. She placed the tiny stem within the flame until it ignited. Delilah bent at the waist and lit the candles. Ian looked on with Caroline still cradled to his chest. Ian watched as the Fae woman raised her hands toward the stars above and spoke in an unfamiliar tongue, as she offered up a prayer to the Fae. Without opening her eyes, Delilah stepped back five paces and continued to call to the netherworld. She opened her eyes briefly and gave Ian one final look, before lowering to her knees. Delilah blew out the rowan branch and dropped it to the ground. Ian’s blood pulsated with anticipation. The sudden shrill of a barn owl overhead pierced the midnight sky and startled them.
Calum anxiously asked, “Tis that a sign?” Ian did not miss the discomfiture upon his brother’s face.
Delilah’s eyes flew open, and rolled them in Calum’s direction. Annoyance laced her voice. “Nay, my mighty warrior. Tis not. Now hush.”
Delilah lowered her lids again, and raised her hands and prayed in silence for several moments. When she opened her eyes, she summoned Ian. “Place Caroline between me and the offering for Nichneven.” He stepped forward and reluctantly did what she requested. He placed her tartan wrapped body upon the dampened grass at his feet. A piece of his heart tore away, as he released his hold and placed her life in an unknown fate.
“Remove yer dagger and cut a small lock of her hair and bring it to me.”
Ian gritted his teeth and unsheathed his dagger. As the Fae woman bid him, he cut a through a lock of Caroline’s thick, brown tresses.
From out of the burlap sack, Delilah pulled out a small folded parchment. Taking Caroline’s chestnut strands from his fingers, she placed them within the folds of the paper.
“Is that it?” Ian questioned.
She shook her head. “I will require a drop of your blood.”
Ian unsheathed his dagger again and without hesitation, he sliced it through the meaty portion of his left hand. Delilah held the folded slip beneath his hand, and he watched a dark red drop fall upon Caroline’s hair.
“Now we shall call upon Nichneven’s aid. Whatever ye do…do not go to Caroline until I tell ye too.”
She did not give Ian time to protest before she placed the gathered items upon the flame within the carved gourd. The distinct smell of burning hair assaulted the air around them. A heartbeat later, Delilah closed her eyes, raised her hands and chanted again. Her voice was no more than a whisper. Ian stepped behind the healer. His eyes never leaving Caroline’s tiny, weakened form.
The moon was directly above them when a peculiar sound surrounded them.
“What the bloody hell? What is that noise? Geese?” Calum asked as he scanned the outlying area.
Ian would have agreed with Calum aloud, but halted when the thunderous sound of approaching horses sounded in the distance. Both men instinctively pulled their swords that lay upon their backs. Ian started to make his way to Caroline when Delilah yelled. “Nay! Ye must trust me.” The wind stirred.
“I will not further jeopardize Caroline!” He took another step.
Delilah was by his side and clutching at his arm. “Ye hear horses, but the ground does no’ shake.” Ian paused and then gave the Fae a reluctant nod. “It is Nichneven…she comes. Please ye must stand back. For Caroline’s sake.”
Ian let out a pent up breath. “I give ye my word.” He lowered his sword and Delilah returned to her position.
It took all his resolve to return to Calum’s side. Another gust of wind tore through the center of the s
tones and gutted the burning candles. Debris tossed all around them. The torch in Calum’s hand dropped to the ground and extinguished. The wind roared, and Ian raised a hand to shield his eyes. Caroline remained where he placed her earlier. How much longer did Delilah expect him to stay away from her? The need to go to her increased with the strange events unfolding around them. Why had he given her his word? Then as though a door shut, the wind went still. The cackling of geese halted, as did the rumble of an approaching army and left them standing in silence, as the bluish hue of the full moon illuminated everything around them.
Out of the mist she appeared. On the outside, the stones opposite of where they stood was the ghostly image of a monstrous steed. Thick billows of steam swirled upward from the horse’s nostrils, as it menacingly beat the earth with a giant hoof. Upon his back sat a beautiful young woman cloaked in a gray mantle. A gentle smile formed upon her face, as she looked down upon the apples and gourds.
Delilah whispered. “She is pleased.”
An agonizing groan broke through the stillness and the queen frowned at the sound. Ian looked on as the Fae dismounted from the mystical beast she called a horse and floated to the edge of the stones. She passed through the solid pillars and her ethereal body took a human form.
Calum breathed out. “Jesu!”
Ian stepped forward, but Delilah’s hand stopped him.
“Is the woman the reason you summon me and bestow such a bountiful tithe?” The warmth in her voice was mesmerizing, yet invoked respect.
“Aye, she is your highness. I am afraid her wounds were deep and infection has set in.” Delilah explained.
It was not in Ian’s nature to sit back and let others lead. He needed to know if this queen would offer her help for Caroline or not. “Will ye help her?” Ian spoke out of turn.
Bright emerald-green eyes locked with his own. “Laird MacLaine. You are anxious, but there is no need. My daughter of the Fae, Delilah has pleased me much. Her skills and powers are used wisely, but more importantly…” Nichneven drew closer to Delilah and gave her cheek a tender caress, and rewarded her with a smile. “She is loyal to those under her care.”
Kissed by the Laird (First Ladies of the Fae Book 1) Page 25
