Nancy brought her dinner. This time, it was a bowl of soup and a piece of toast — she braced herself for the meal, a little wary of overdoing it, but delighted to feel her long-neglected appetite beginning to stir from its sleep inside her belly. The soup was bland, but so nourishing… and she realized there was a little bit of butter on the fresh, crusty bread roll that sat beside it.
“Blair wasn’t sure about the butter, but I insisted,” Nancy said cheerfully. “My mum always used to cover my toast in butter when I was sick.”
“So did my dad!” Elena laughed. “I suppose there’s a handbook somewhere that all new parents get. Have you gotten your copy yet?” she joked.
“Not yet. I think I’ll have to give birth first. Not looking forward to that,” she added, wrinkling her nose. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so excited to meet my little one, but the blood and the screaming… I’ll pass.”
Elena nodded sympathetically. “I suppose they haven’t invented much pain relief.”
“I mean, Anna took a bottle of whisky into the delivery room with her,” Nancy said, grinning, “and old Maggie provided some kind of herbal thing which apparently helped a lot, but it’s not like there’s a medieval epidural, you know?” She sighed. “I’ll get through it. Women have been doing it for thousands of years. And I trust Maggie with my life.”
“Worth it, for the prize at the end.” Elena smiled.
“Oh, yeah. If mine’s anywhere near as cute as Gwyneth, I won’t mind at all.” Nancy smiled — then clapped her hands with delight. “Hey! You’ve finished the whole bowl! How are you feeling?”
She nibbled on the remainder of the bread, paying close attention. “Definitely more full than I’ve felt in weeks.”
Nancy’s face fell. “Do you need the chamber pot?”
“No, I think — I think I’m good.” She settled back against the pillow, a smile dancing across her face. “Thank God. If I had to spend much more time stuck in this room I think I’d lose my mind completely.”
“One more night of rest though, yeah? Should I bring you some porridge tomorrow morning?”
“Good idea. If I can eat porridge, I can get out of bed,” Elena said firmly.
Later that night, she lay awake for a little while, feeling restless. With food in her belly and new strength starting to return to her limbs, she was getting more and more impatient to be back in action. This disease down in the village — it was a mystery that was tickling all her investigative instincts at once. She wanted to be down there, figuring stuff out… and a part of her wanted to keep Brendan as far away from it as possible, too. What if he fell sick, too? He was one of her closest friends here… more than a friend, she could admit in the privacy of her own head. She wasn’t sure she could deal with him getting sick, too.
She drifted off to sleep eventually, and though her thoughts had been troubled, she thankfully didn’t fall into any bad dreams. When she woke, she realized with a pleasant shock that it was dawn. The last week, she’d been waking late in the morning, feeling dozy and disoriented… this bright-and-early wakeup felt like a good sign. She didn’t feel sick, either, despite having eaten more yesterday than she had for the past week. Quite the opposite — she felt strong. Not quite her old self — there was residual weakness in her body that she’d need to keep an eye on — but when she slid out of bed and got to her feet, she realized with a burst of joy that she felt okay.
Nancy had said she was going to bring her porridge, but she didn’t want to wait — the prospect of staying in this room any longer was unbearable. So she made the bed, then dressed herself in proper clothes for the first time in days. Feeling much more human again — it was amazing how much of a difference wearing real clothes could make — she steadied herself, taking a big sip of water from the glass on her bedside. Important to stay hydrated. Then she opened the door, emerging into the hallway like an astronaut stepping out onto a foreign planet.
God, it felt good to be on her feet again, moving through the castle like a real person and not an invalid. She took it slow, especially the stairs, aware that her balance might be a little compromised by her illness, but to her delight the waves of nausea she’d expected were staying away. She made it to the entrance hall — where she ran into Nancy, whose bright eyes widened with shock to see her.
“Elena! I was just going to fetch you some porridge — are you alright?”
“I think so,” she said, smiling as she gestured at herself. “Standing and walking are fine.”
“Well, next step’s some food,” Nancy said brightly, taking her arm. “God, I’m so glad you’re feeling better. I love Anna, but all she can talk about at the moment is babies.”
They settled at their usual table. She couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed to be surrounded by people, after so long by herself in her little room — the voices of the guards laughing at the next table, the scholars engaged in hot debate about something or other behind them, the servants chatting and laughing as they moved this way and that, bringing food to the table or clearing used plates and cutlery. Elena served herself a bowl of porridge, feeling her stomach rumbling enthusiastically at the prospect of food — it seemed that her appetite was back. She cast a brief, longing glance at a huge plate of what looked like bacon, but she decided against tempting fate. Best to ease in gradually. She could gorge herself on salty, fatty meat once she knew for a fact she wasn’t going to find the porridge coming straight back up.
God, it felt good to sit and eat like a normal person. She and Nancy chatted away about their old lives back in the future — it seemed Nancy missed home a little on some level, still. It was strange, to think of their families, so far away in space as well as time… but Nancy was full of fascinating stories about scuba diving in lakes in North Carolina, and Elena was quickly distracted from any sad ruminations about how her father would be getting on without her. Her father hadn’t even been born yet — she had plenty of time to figure out what she was going to do about it.
And in the meantime, she was excited to get started on the mystery of the wasting illness. It’s a shame Brendan isn’t here, she thought, covertly glancing around the dining room in the hopes that he might have decided to come back early. Part of why she’d been so keen to get better was wanting to spend time with him. But there are plenty of other things to get on with, she scolded herself.
When she got up from the table, a tiny bit of dizziness touched the corner of her vision — not nearly as bad as it had been that first day, but it still gave her pause. Nancy was at her side, touching her arm with concern vivid in her eyes.
“Are you okay? Do you think you’re gonna hurl? Let me get you a bowl or something —”
“Nah, I think I’m okay,” Elena said, steadying herself on the table. “Just a tiny bit dizzy. Nowhere near as bad as it’s been.”
“Might just be your body getting used to digesting food again,” Nancy said, offering her an arm. She took it gratefully and they headed out of the dining hall. “It might be a few days before you’re back in the swing of things properly.”
“Annoying,” Elena grumbled… but she accepted Nancy steering her back toward her room, reluctantly acknowledging that she probably wasn’t going to be running any marathons any time soon. She thought back to how her father got when he got sick — like a bear with a sore head, he’d always be pushing himself to recover too soon, to leap back into action the instant he felt any better at all. It had been deeply frustrating to deal with… and she didn’t want to inflict that on her new friends. Didn’t want to be the kind of person her father was, for all his strengths. So she went meekly back to her bed, sighing a little as she thought back to how enthusiastically she’d made the bed that morning.
“This was a big step,” Nancy reassured her. “All the way down to the dining hall and back? You’re doing great. Just give it a little while longer.”
She nodded, grimacing irritably to herself as she tucked herself back into bed. She had to admit… it felt lik
e the right move, getting a little more rest. Her body, unused to the effort of walking — especially stairs — was crying out for a little rest, and the warm glow of the porridge in her belly was making her sleepy, too. Maybe just a short nap, she thought to herself, grinning as Nancy shut the door behind her with exaggerated care. A short nap to digest the porridge… then she’d be ready to jump back into the real world.
After all, she thought with a smile, the warmth of the bed easing her off to sleep — the more time I spend asleep, the faster the days will pass before Brendan is back up at the castle. She had more than a few ideas in mind for when he returned, and when she was in good health again… and some of them had rather a lot to do with the dreams she’d had a few nights before. Hopefully, there’d be some good news from the village, and they could celebrate both Elena’s return to health, and the banishment of the disease that had been affecting the village’s young men.
Chapter 23
She had only been planning on sleeping for a couple of hours — Elena was surprised to realize, when she woke up, that it was already late afternoon. She sat up blearily, rubbing her eyes — but her body was feeling stronger, she noticed with some delight. And even better, her stomach was growling ravenously. Her appetite was back. That had to be a good sign, right? She’d spent the whole week completely unable to even think about food without gagging… now her stomach was demanding to be fed. Well, she could organize that.
She bounced out of bed, a little worried that she’d feel the dizziness creep back over here — but it seemed the morning and afternoon of sleep, in combination with the enormous bowl of porridge she’d had that morning, had done wonders at banishing the illness. She pulled her boots on — she’d fallen asleep fully dressed, to her chagrin — and headed out into the corridor.
The problem, of course, was that she’d missed lunch. She could tell that from the way the sun was sitting low in the sky — lunch would be long over, and her stomach was growling too much to make waiting for dinner an especially palatable option. So she headed down to the kitchen to see if there were any leftovers around. The stairs felt a lot easier than they had that morning, and she caught a few surprised glances from servants who recognized her as the unwell woman in the room down the hall. Well, with any luck, that was all behind her.
She strode into the kitchen, feeling almost giddy with relief at how much better she was feeling. Sure enough, there were some leftovers stacked close to the wall — she could see them through the crowd of servants bustling back and forth, already getting ready for dinner. Elena’s stomach growled and complained at the smell of food cooking, and she winced a little, embarrassed by the volume of the sounds her body was making. She sidled over to where she’d spotted the leftover trays. To her delight, there were little pies underneath the cover — vegetable pies, from the smell of them, still slightly warm from presumably having been cooked earlier that day. She took two, squirreling them away into the pockets of her coat. Part of her was tempted to try to swipe a bread roll or two, as well — but she decided against it. After all, dinner wouldn’t be too long — the pies would tide her over until then, and she could have as many helpings as her stomach could manage tonight.
“Elena Cross,” came an amused voice from behind her. “It’s good to see you on your feet again.”
There stood Blair, her keen blue eyes boring through her. Is Blair a Changeling like Maeve? Elena wondered, feeling rooted to the spot by even a friendly smile from the foreboding Headwoman. It would make sense… it would explain those terrifying eyes, at least. She smiled back, trying to fight down her own anxiety.
“It’s good to be up,” she said — then remembered Blair had been part of her recovery. “Thank you so much for the soup, by the way — it was perfect. Really helped get me back on my feet.”
“Of course. I only wish the men were bouncing back as well as you have,” the Headwoman said thoughtfully.
Elena hesitated, not sure how to respond. Hadn’t Brendan and Anna both said that the news of what was going on with the men was a closely guarded secret? But Blair’s eyes were twinkling.
“Oh, don’t worry, Elena. I find out everything that goes on around here. Donal’s long since given up trying to keep my nose out of things.”
Elena grinned, put a little more at ease by that, but her expression quickly sobered. “Are they on the mend?”
“A few of them have recovered. Some of the others are getting worse. No clue why. It’s like no sickness I’ve seen, and I’ve seen a few in my time.” Blair sighed. “It’s likely not an illness, that’s my suspicion.”
“Brendan said something similar.” Elena sighed. “He said it’s more likely to be… supernatural. But I don’t know anything about faeries or anything, how they work, how they might be causing this…”
“Keep an eye out,” Blair said simply. “That’s all you need do for now, lass. I’ve a suspicion you might have something to do with all this, when all’s said and done, but what that is remains to be seen. Off you go, now. Enjoy the pies,” she added with a twinkle in her eye.
Elena grinned a little guiltily. Of course Blair had seen her grab the pies from the covered plate — had she really expected to have gotten away with that little bit of larceny?
She headed for the dining room, but she felt a restlessness when she stepped into the huge hall, mostly empty but for servants getting the tables ready for dinner. She’d been inside for nearly a week straight… she wanted to feel the breeze on her skin again, take a deep breath of fresh, clean air. That was something medieval Scotland definitely had over downtown Baltimore… much less pollution. Less humid, too, she thought with a smile. She wasn’t especially looking forward to the winter here, but that was a problem for the future. After all, she might not even stay that long. The idea of leaving sent an unexpected pang of sadness through her chest. Well, she’d see out whatever was happening with the mysterious illness before she thought about leaving.
It was a beautiful early evening — Elena gasped a little as she stepped out onto the steps in front of the castle, taken aback by the sight of the sky. Funny, how quickly you forgot simple pleasures like being outside, feeling the wind against your skin… the sky was clear and calm, a few clouds scudding across its peaceful surface, and she could see that the sun was low on the horizon. The memory of sitting on the docks with Una a week ago suddenly sprang to her mind, and she grinned, decision made. She’d sit on the end of the dock again, feel the wind over the lake, eat her pies and watch the sun set. The jacket she was wearing — the one with the pockets where she’d stashed the pies — was warm enough to keep her protected at least until the sun set, and after that she’d be more than ready to come in from the cold. And dinner would be ready, she thought happily, her stomach growling in anticipation.
To silence it, she took a quick bite of one of the pies as she headed for the winding staircase that would take her down to the docks. It was delicious — she’d forgotten how good properly flavored food could be, she’d been on such a strict diet of bland food for so long. Wary that she didn’t want to overdo it, she forced herself to nibble slowly at the pie, but with her appetite back and roaring to make up for lost time, it was difficult. But it was beautiful on the docks, just as she’d expected — she trotted down the one she’d sat on with Una, glancing around, wondering if the woman was around. No sign of her, though. That was fine — she could use a little time to herself, just absorbing this beautiful scene. Still, it would be good to talk to the woman about what was going on. She was clearly local — maybe she’d have some insight into the nature of the disease.
“Elena, it’s been a whole week,” came a soft, dismayed voice from behind her.
Elena sat straight upright, a little surprised to hear that familiar sound so quickly — where had Una been hiding? She’d looked around for her to no avail, and yet here she was, settling herself down to sit beside her, just as they had the last time she was here. Elena smiled, genuinely happy to see the woman.
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“Una! It’s good to see you again. Sorry I haven’t been back — I got awfully sick.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought that perhaps you’d decided not to be friends with me after all.” Una’s dark eyes were full of worry, and Elena reached out to touch her hand in comfort. The skin there was almost icy cold, for all the world as though Una had been dipping her hands in the lake water — sensing Elena’s shock, she withdrew her fingers with a soft smile.
“Of course I hadn’t decided not to be friends with you. I was just so sick I couldn’t get out of bed… could hardly eat anything…”
“You poor thing,” Una said softly. “You don’t deserve such a fate. Nobody like you deserves to waste away.”
“Well, I’m back in action now,” she said happily, gesturing with her half-eaten pie. “Having a bit of a before-dinner snack. Would you like some?” Una was awfully thin — maybe she didn’t get much food, wherever it was that she lived. Elena reached into her pocket and pulled out the other pie, offering it to the woman, but she declined it with a little shake of her head.
“You’re very kind, but that’s not what I eat,” Una said softly.
She spoke so strangely, this woman — but somehow, it seemed to suit her. Sentences that would have been downright bizarre coming from anyone else made perfect sense coming from Una. Part of that strange, feral charisma she seemed to possess, perhaps.
“You finish it yourself.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Elena grinned, taking a bite of the second pie to prove it. Una laughed, a high, tinkling sound that echoed across the lake. “How have you been, Una? Keeping busy?”
“Oh, yes. Lots to be getting on with.”
What did she do with herself? Elena wondered. How did Una spend her days? It was impossible to picture her doing menial tasks like laundry or cleaning… but presumably she must. Or maybe she only ever wore that same long, flowing green dress that trailed along the ground as she walked.
Swept By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance-Highlander Forever Book 3 Page 14
