Elphame's Choice (18 page)

Think of her instead, he ordered himself. Think of her beauty and her strength. There must be a way to do both, to save his people and to have Elphame.

“IT’S BEEN FIVE
days. I’m going to go mad if you don’t let me out of here.” Elphame snapped the words at her brother. Then she narrowed her eyes and cut him off before he could reply. “No! I don’t want to hear about how badly I’ve been hurt. I know exactly how badly I hurt. My side is itching like I’ve been bitten by fire ants. My shoulder aches. And I am well into day five of a five-day headache. But I’m telling you that I have to get out of this tent, and I mean farther out of it than just sitting in front of the awning.”

The tent flap opened and Brenna bustled in carrying a tray that held fresh bandages and a mug of steaming tea.

“Oh, no! I’m not taking any more of your sleeping poison. I’m tired of sleeping. I’m tired of lying in bed. I’m tired of this tent. And I’m especially tired of how I smell.”

Brenna glanced at Cuchulainn who was looking harried. He
threw up his hands and turned away from his disheveled, frustrated sister.

“You’re the Healer. You handle her,” he said a little too quickly, starting to sidle toward the exit.

Both women frowned at him.

“And to think maidens swoon over your bravery,” Elphame said in disgust.

“Said swooning maidens aren’t my sister. You are a different thing altogether. Brenna, I admit she is a terrible patient, and I leave her in your capable hands with my most humble apologies.” He managed a quick grin at his glaring sister, bowed to Brenna and, with a flourish, retreated from the tent.

Brenna had to make herself quit smiling at the empty doorway.

“Overprotective oaf!” Elphame said, grimacing as she brushed one long, greasy strand of hair from her face. “I’m disgusting. I smell bad.” She rubbed absently at the bandage that covered the wound in her side. “But he’s right. I am a terrible patient.”

Brenna smiled. “You aren’t a terrible patient. You’re just bored and healing. If you weren’t going a little mad I’d be worried about you.”

“Somehow that is not much comfort.” Elphame scratched her scalp.

“Would a bath help?”

“Oh, sweet Goddess, yes!” Elphame swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood a little too quickly. She gritted her teeth as the world pitched around her.

“Easy. You must go slowly.” Brenna’s firm hand caught El under her elbow, steadying her with the knowing touch of an experienced Healer.

Elphame breathed deeply and slowly until the dizziness passed.

“Better?” Brenna asked.

“That was foolish of me.” El gave her friend a sideways look. “Am I still allowed to bathe?”

“Later this evening.”

“But—”

Brenna put a hand up to stop her. “It’s a surprise. Do not argue with your Healer.”

“That’s good enough for me.” El glanced at the tray Brenna had set on the table. “I’ll even drink your awful potion if it’ll hasten my way to cleanliness.”

Brenna laughed. “Now you sound almost as dramatic as your brother. And, yes, I do want you to drink the tea, but you need not fret. There is nothing in it stronger than willow bark to help ease your headache.”

Relieved, Elphame sat on the edge of the bed and sipped the surprisingly harmless-tasting tea.

“And when you’ve finished your tea, how would you feel about going on a short walk?” Brenna asked, although she knew very well what Elphame’s answer would be.

“You mean outside?”

“Definitely outside.”

Elphame gulped the tea. “You are wonderful.”

“You mean I’m not a horrid, potion-brewing jailor?” Brenna said with feigned innocence.

Elphame cringed. “You heard that?”

“I know you meant it only in the kindest of ways, my Lady.” Brenna’s eyes sparkled as she curtsied to Elphame.

“I have been a terrible patient.”

“Yes.” Brenna laughed. “You have.”

Elphame swallowed the remainder of the tea and stood, slowly and carefully. Brenna hung her Healer’s bag over one shoulder, and linked her other arm firmly through her patient’s.

“Going to keep me in check?”

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Brenna nodded at her charge and then tugged gently at El’s arm. Both women were
smiling as they emerged from the tent. Brenna took only a couple of steps before she halted, letting Elphame’s eyes adjust to the bright afternoon light. Then she began guiding her slowly to their left, the direction that led away from the castle and toward the edge of the forest that flanked the southernmost grounds of the castle.

Elphame cleared her throat. “You know how I hate to complain…”

Brenna’s eyebrows shot up in silent sarcasm.

“…but I was rather hoping we would take our little walk into the castle. I haven’t seen the inside of it for five days, and I am just mildly curious about the progress of the renovations.”

“You’ll see the inside of the castle. This evening.”

“Not now?”

“Not now,” Brenna replied cryptically.

“Hrumph,” Elphame said, borrowing one of Cu’s favorite expressions.

“I thought you were fond of the forest.”

“I am!” Elphame assured her. The forest…her heartbeat quickened.
He
was in the forest.

“Good. I found a smooth set of boulders a little south of here, just edging the forest. From there you will have a lovely view of the sea and the castle. It seemed a good place for us to walk to. Once there, I can work on those sketches for the castle’s tapestries while you relax and work on your frustration level.”

“It sounds nice,” Elphame said and smiled absently at Brenna, but her thoughts were humming.

They would be near the forest. Lochlan waited somewhere within the forest. Or did he? For what seemed like the thousandth time she silently cursed her incomplete memory. He had been real; the physical proof was undeniable. Lochlan had killed the boar, carried her up the ravine, packed her wound and covered her with his warmth, but the entire experience
was shrouded in a fog of pain and confusion. When she tried to remember specific things he had said to her, she could reconstruct only halting bits of their conversations.

He’d told her he knew her from his dreams.

He’d said he would be waiting for her.

He’d admitted his father had been a Fomorian.

A visual memory flashed suddenly through her mind and she clearly saw Lochlan, wings spread, his handsome face twisted in a feral snarl as he plunged his knife into the attacking boar. Despite the warmth of the afternoon, Elphame shivered.

Brenna’s probing eyes fastened on her.

“I feel fine,” El assured her. “I—I was just thinking about the accident.”

The Healer’s gaze softened in sympathy. “Brighid said she had never seen such an enormous boar. The battle must have been horrible. I hate to think of the pain you were in.”

“I can honestly say I have never been so afraid.” Was an omission a lie?

“Thank Epona you survived.”

Elphame made a vague noise of agreement, wishing Brenna would change the subject.

“I haven’t wanted to mention this in front of your brother,” Brenna began slowly, “but I have noticed that your sleep has been rather restless. I think you should know that it is normal for your dreams to be troubled after a traumatic experience.”

Elphame met Brenna’s compassionate gaze, then she looked hastily away. It wasn’t nightmares that were causing her dreams to be restless. She felt the flush of heat color her face.

“There is no reason to feel shame, Elphame,” Brenna said, squeezing her arm gently. “But if the dreams trouble you I could give you a stronger sleeping potion, although that would not be my preference.”

“No!” Elphame said, feeling more and more guilty at the honest concern in her friend’s voice. “The dreams aren’t bad.” Well, at least that much wasn’t a lie. The dreams she had experienced for the past five nights had been delicious, not disturbing. “I think I’m restless because I’m not used to so much inactivity. I’ll be fine when I can get back to a more normal schedule.”

“That will be soon. Your wounds are healing with almost miraculous speed.”

Elphame rolled her eyes. “Oh, please don’t tell anyone.”

“I never divulge a Healer’s secrets.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t want the people to go back to treating me like I’m a goddess on a pedestal.”

“It is difficult to be set apart from others.” Brenna soft voice was introspective.

This time Elphame had no trouble meeting her eyes. “Yes. It is difficult.”

They walked on silently, both lost in their own thoughts. It was a spectacular afternoon. It had rained early that morning and the forest was even more brilliant than usual, as if it had been newly washed by the Goddess. They were traveling through the grassy grounds that adjoined the southern side of the castle, and Elphame was impressed by how much work the men had accomplished. The concealing shrubbery and trees had been cleared, leaving no greenery other than meticulously cropped grass within several hundred paces of the castle’s outer walls. After what Cuchulainn must have decreed as a proper distance, a few well-trimmed groves of still-blooming dogwood trees had been spared. They lined the road that led into the forest with a halo of blushing pink blossoms. Elphame smiled when she noticed that Cu had also left a dozen or so tufts of thorny blackberry bushes, which looked maniacal in their haphazardly entwined vines when compared to the newly established order around them. The grounds appeared to have been lovingly
cared for, which pleased Elphame. She’d have to remember to praise Cuchulainn and the men for a job well done.

Brenna angled their walk in a direction that led toward the cliff where the forest softly kissed the sheer, rocky edge.

“Here’s our spot.” She pointed to a cluster of smooth boulders that perched near the cliffside just within the shade of the tall pines. The rocks varied in size from imposing heaps of rock that towered over Elphame’s head, to small lumps that were no more than waist high. “If you sit here—” Brenna gestured to a medium-sized rock that butted up against one of the massive boulders “—you can rest comfortably and have an excellent view of your castle.”

El gingerly sat. Being careful of the still sensitive wound in her side she slid slowly back until she could lean again the boulder, which formed a surprisingly comfortable backrest. Brenna hiked up her skirts and with a nimbleness that reminded Elphame of a scampering mouse, she climbed up the side of one of the larger rocks. El saw that her friend’s boulder had a convenient edge that lipped up in serrated ridges so that she could rest her sketchbook within its grooves almost as if it were an easel. After she positioned herself, Brenna searched through her bottomless bag until she found her charcoal pencils. Then she considered for a moment before returning her hand to dig farther. With a slight smile she produced a floppy wineskin, which she tossed down next to Elphame.

“I think you’re well enough to enjoy a little fruit of the vine.”

“It’s a nice change from your never-ending teas,” El mumbled after taking a deep drink of the rich red wine.

“The tea is good for you. Stop complaining and enjoy the view. I’ll show you the sketch I’ve been working on as soon as I correct the tower detail.”

“I will do exactly as you say.” Elphame smiled happily. She
sincerely enjoyed Brenna bossing her around. It meant Brenna felt comfortable with her; it meant she treated her like a normal patient. She was also coming to understand that it meant that Brenna cared deeply about her. Elphame took another long drink of wine and breathed in the crisp spring air, pleased that just that morning her side had stopped aching each time she took a deep breath.

Saltwater and pine filled her senses, and she drank in the pungent scents as she gazed at her castle. It looked like a hive covered with busy worker bees. The pointed roof of one of the four lookout towers was complete, and two others were actually taking form, as was the massive roof that would eventually cover the center-most area of the castle. For the past several days she had, of course, been restlessly watching the construction from the chaise longue that Brenna had allowed her to recline upon just outside the front flap of her tent, but Elphame had had no way of comprehending the extent of the ongoing construction while she had been so near the castle walls. From her new vantage point she could see her home literally coming alive before her eyes. She felt suddenly overwhelmed with emotion at what her people had accomplished while she had been recovering.

“It really is beautiful, isn’t it?” she said reverently.

“Yes,” Brenna slurred, tongue tucked against the side of her mouth in concentration as her charcoal pencil flew across the page. When she stopped, she blew across the surface of the sketch and narrowed her eyes critically at it even as she reluctantly set her pencil aside. “That finishes it. I think I have that fourth tower in the right position now.” She bent and gently tossed the open pad of thick, crude paper to Elphame.

MacCallan Castle seemed to leap from the linen-colored page. Brenna had drawn in the mighty outer walls, complete with the restored wrought-iron gate, although in reality it had
yet to be installed. Flags that were currently being stitched flew proudly from each of the four watchtowers—Brenna had even thought to sketch in a plunging mare on each waving banner. There were no bare, fire-scorched timbers or crumbling stone breaches in the battlements. The castle looked young and vibrant and very much alive.