Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (41 page)

“It will be all right.” But she couldn’t stop herself as a tear rolled down her cheek. What was wrong with her? Never had she acted like this. But Ronan’s suffering tore at her soul. He continued to flail and Lia reached out, gently stroking her fingers through his hair.

“Ronan,” she called softly. “Peace, Ronan, you are safe.”

She repeated the words, keeping her voice soft and even.

Finally, the fit faded and Ronan fell limp against the wood floor. He sucked in a ragged breath followed by a second.

“Praise be,” Aidan whispered.

Uncaring of what Aidan thought, Lia gathered Ronan in her arms and pulled him tight against her. “It’s all right, Ronan,” she whispered rocking him gently. “You are safe. You are at home.” But no matter her words to him, she could not stop the tears that streamed down her face.

R
onan finally understood why Lia had scolded him so much in regard to overextending himself and not minding the healing wounds on his back. Two days had passed since the last fit, and although he remembered nothing of it, Lia and Aidan had told him of its length and severity. It had frightened them, he knew, and if he could remember any details, it probably would have frightened him too. As it was, he had not yet truly recovered from it.

Weakness plagued him, so much so he barely had the strength to rise from his bed and sit at the table in his solar. He resolved to heed Lia’s warnings more diligently in the future. He hated being trapped but could not find the strength to clothe himself, let alone negotiate the stairs. This would not happen again, he decided.

Aidan sat with him while Lia attended the ill in the great hall and the village. While she still wanted to watch and observe him, accompanying her was now out of the question. Instead, she gave that duty to Aidan, noting his powers of observation would be put to good use.

At least the ill seemed to be constantly improving, with fewer in the great hall and in the village. Soon, Ronan would have her all to himself. His lips tugged upward as he realized he could live with that.

“What?” Aidan asked.

Ronan waved him off. “Any new songs from yer birds?”

Aidan ducked his head and fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. “Lia didna want me tae tell ye.”

“Aidan, if it be something that affects the clan—”

“If it be something dire, I will tell ye,” Aidan said quickly. “But until ye are stronger, she doesna want ye vexed.”

Ronan sighed and took another drink of his wine, reminding himself of his promise to listen to her warnings.

The church bells rang for Nones and Ronan’s belly rumbled. “What be takin’ her so long?”

Aidan shrugged. “She mentioned something about preparin’ yer meal today.”

Ronan scowled at him. “She said the wounds on my back are improving. There are only two bein’ stubborn with their festering.”

“Aye, I’m certain ye will be feeling much better as soon as the fever leaves ye.”

A soft knock, one that Ronan instantly recognized as Lia’s, sounded. “Enter.”

Aidan rose and Lia opened the door.

Ronan blinked in surprise as Alba stepped through the door along with Lachlan, both carrying roundels with a great assortment of food. Lia carried two more.

“What be this?” he asked, trying to ignore how Alba eyed him warily.

She placed the food on the table and bobbed a quick curtsey. “Is there anything else ye be needin’?”

Ronan looked to Lia.

“Nay, Alba, thank you.”

“As ye will.” She darted out the door.

“At least she actually entered the solar this time,” Ronan muttered as Lachlan set the roundels he carried on the table.

Lachlan grinned at him. The lad was proving more courageous than the others, even agreeing to help Ronan shave in the morning, although Ronan marveled that the lad barely knew how to do it himself.

“Thank ye, Lachlan.”

He nodded and also left the room.

Lia handed her roundels to Aidan and closed the door.

“What is this, lassie?” Ronan asked. “I haven’t seen such a variety of food since Christmastide.”

“You mentioned that as you grow older your tastes are changing,” she said and stepped next to him. “Choose whatever you might fancy.”

“Cook must be vexed with ye,” he said, eyeing the food. He was hungry and it smelled wonderful.

“Nay, for I cooked it myself.”

He looked up at her in surprise. “Another talent ye havena shared with me?”

She laughed softly. “Many who came seeking Sueta’s help did so with their families accompanying them. Sometimes those family members cooked for us and since Sueta places such import on diet, both she and I learned how to cook various things from all over.” She paused, her smile growing. “I promise you, with my cooking, you will never grow bored.”

He grinned up at her, but his gaze returned to the food and his stomach rumbled even louder. “And ye simply want me tae pick . . . anything?”

“Aye.”

His gaze swept over the food again. He spotted a thick stew in a bowl, a rabbit that had been spitted and cooked over open fire, a game bird that had also been cooked similarly, but then his gaze landed on the fish. It was a large filet, deboned, but it had been cooked differently from what he was familiar with. He reached for it. “What is this, lassie?”

“Trout from the river, caught this morn,” she said and sat next to him. “But this is pan seared. The trick is to get the pan hot enough that when I put the fish into it, it cooks all the way through almost instantly but not so hot that it burns. It will blacken the outside just a bit. I then added roasted vegetables for extra flavor.”

Ronan took a tentative bite; the fish fair melted in his mouth, various flavors dancing over his tongue. He hesitated and stared at Lia.

Her smile faded and she watched him. “You . . . you do not like it?”

“Like it?” he asked softly and grinned at her. “Lassie, I love it.”

She instantly relaxed and her smile returned.

Ronan chuckled softly and returned to his food. The fish was lighter fare, and he looked at the other dishes Lia had provided. He thought to try another, noting that Lia and Aidan had not yet moved to claim their own.

“Will ye two no’ eat?”

“We will,” Lia assured him. “I want you to have free choice here.”

He nodded and looked again to his plate. “I thought I might grab another but . . . honestly, lass, I think this will suit me fine.” He glanced at his brother, who stared at the food, nearly salivating.

Ronan bit back a laugh, looked at Lia, and inclined his head toward Aidan. “Now I just feel cruel.”

Lia’s hazel eyes sparkled with mirth. “Go ahead, Aidan.”

“Thank ye,” Aidan muttered and grabbed the game bird. He attacked it with a ferocity that made Ronan laugh. Yet he too hesitated and stared at Lia in awe. “Lassie, this is amazing.” He paused and glared at his brother. “Remember our conversation when this plague first started . . . at the base of the stairs?”

Ronan’s humor instantly faded. “Aye,” he said softly.

“She stays, and that’s all there is tae it.”

Ronan had to bite back a laugh lest he choke on his food. He winked at Aidan. “Aye, brother.”

Lia looked at them in confusion. “Pray pardon?”

“Never mind us, lass,” Ronan said. “’Tis only my brother doing what he does best and giving me grief.” He jabbed his eating dagger at the remaining plates. “Now, lass, eat. I’ll not have ye go hungry.”

HHH

Over the next few days, Lia finally brought Ronan’s infection under control. The two most stubborn wounds on his back were clear and closing nicely. She documented these results as well as the food he chose.

Every meal offered a variety, and they always allowed Ronan to choose whatever he willed before she and Aidan made their choices. Anything left over they gave to Alba, Lachlan, and Marta, much to their delight.

The only thing Lia worried over was the lack of grain in Ronan’s diet. But until the clan was able to purchase more, there was little she could do about it. But grain needed to be a staple.

“How are you feeling?” Lia asked as she changed the bandages on his back. He no longer needed them on his chest.

“Much better, lass, thanks tae ye.” He paused and looked over his shoulder at her. “Mayhap I can go below stairs today?” He had asked the same question daily.

Lia saw his energy returning and had no desire to keep him cooped in one room, knowing what it did to him. “For a time,” she said, smiling at him. “But you must promise me you will not allow yourself to become overtired, otherwise you will find yourself cooped in here longer.

His entire body trembled under her hand. “I vow it, lassie. This last fiasco has taught me a valuable lesson. I shall heed yer words in their entirety.”

“Good,” she said, knowing his resolve would not last for long.

She helped him with his tunic and boots, noting the enforced captivity had also lessened the swelling in his leg. He might not even need a cane were it not for the stairs.

HHH

Ronan descended the stairs and stopped in shock. There were no more ill lining the floor; cups and medicants no longer graced his high table. “Lassie?”

“The last of the sick have recovered, Ronan,” she said smiling up at him. “There are only two in the village remaining, and they are well on their way to returning to full health.”

He gazed at her, his throat growing tight. He had been so cruel to her. He swallowed hard. “Lassie, if it had not been for ye—” His voice cracked and he sucked in a breath. “Thank ye.”

Her beautiful hazel eyes grew liquid as she gazed up at him. “I wish I could have done more.”

“Nay, Lia,” he said firmly, his fingers catching her chin. The pad of his thumb swept along her jaw and he again noted how soft her skin was to the touch. “Ye did all ye could; ye saved many lives.”

“Except . . . ” She paused and a frown marred her brow. “Where is Connell? I have not seen him in days.”

Ronan also frowned. It was not like Connell to remain out of sight for so long. “Lachlan,” he called to the lad as he crossed the great hall. “Have ye seen Connell?”

The lad hesitated. “Nay,” he said thinking for a moment. Then his head came up and his face paled. “The dead . . . they were too many for us to bury in the churchyard. The priest consecrated new ground outside the walls to bury them. The last I saw him was there . . . days ago.”

Ronan spun around and headed for the door.

“Ronan,” Lia, said tugging on his arm. “Please, you will overextend yourself.”

“He is my friend,” Ronan growled.

Lia hesitated only a moment then fell in step beside him. “And mine.”

The new cemetery was closer to the village than to the castle, and out of the way. If the keep should fall under siege, it was unlikely the burial grounds would be close enough for the enemy army to desecrate. Ronan quickly realized, for him, it was not within walking distance.

“I should have fetched the wagon,” he muttered as his limp grew worse.

Lia moved to support his other side. “Ronan, I think I see Connell.”

Despite his lame leg, Ronan lengthened his stride.

Indeed, Connell was at the burial grounds, on his knees before three crosses. From the looks of him, dirty and disheveled, his long hair tangled and a scruffy beard growing from his chin, he had been there for some time. They quickly approached. Ronan called his name several times, but Connell did not turn around.

“Connell,” Ronan said, gently gripping his friend’s shoulder.

Connell looked up, startled, tears streaking muddy paths down his cheeks. “M-MacGrigor?” He blinked rapidly. “Lia?”

Lia knelt next to him. “Lord be merciful, Connell, how long have you been here?”

He shook his head, his gaze returning to the three crosses before him. “I . . . I canna convince myself they’re gone.”

“Blessed Mary,” Lia whispered. She looked up and locked Ronan in her gaze, shaking her head.

Ronan was uncertain of the message she meant to convey to him, only that he knew they had to get Connell back to the castle . . . and away from the graves.

“Connell, come with me,” Ronan said.

“Nay, I canna leave them.”

Lia gently pushed his matted hair away from his face. “You must. ’Tis not good for you to remain here.”

Again he shook his head, tears coming to his eyes.

“Connell,” Ronan said, his grip tightening on his shoulders. “Ye ken I would give anything for ye. What do ye need?”

“What I need be no’ in your power tae give.”

“Connell, name it.”

“I need my family.”

Ronan thought his heart would shatter at that moment.

“Connell, listen to me,” Lia said, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. “Would your family want you doing this to yourself? Would your wife want this?”

Tears dripped down his cheeks anew. “Nay,” he said softly.

Ronan changed his grip on Connell, moving his hand under his arm. He gently but firmly tugged the man upward. “Connell, don’t make me haul ye tae the castle by yer scruff.”

Lia gave him a sharp look. Connell hung his head, but Ronan knew his friend well. Connell acceded to his pull and rose, unsteady on his feet.

“He’s been here too long,” Lia said.

Ronan looked over his shoulder, glad to see Lachlan had trailed after them. Beside him stood Robert. He waved them both over. Lachlan trotted up to them, looking at Connell in concern.

“I tried tae get him tae leave,” Robert said softly. “He refused, drew steel on me, and threatened tae run me through if I didna leave him alone.”

“He’s grieving, Robert,” Lia said gently. “Be patient with him.”

“Get him back tae the keep,” Ronan said.

“I will tend to him,” Lia said. “Do not allow him to go anywhere, but get him cleaned up and get some hot food into him.”

“Aye,” Lachlan said.

Connell shot another look at the graves over his shoulder, but Lia moved so that she stood between his line of sight and the crosses.

“Too many have lost their lives, Connell,” she said softly but firmly. “I’ll not abide another soul.”

He looked at Lia, then his gaze slid to Ronan.

Ronan nodded and Connell turned away from the graves. As Ronan and Lia followed him back to the keep, Ronan noted he did not look back again.

HHH

Ronan made it up the stairs and into the keep through sheer willpower alone. He hesitated, watching Lachlan and Robert led Connell away, wanting to follow and make certain his friend would be all right.

Lia caught his arm. “To the solar with you,” she said firmly and tugged.

Ronan looked down at her and took a breath to argue.

“Now,” she said between clenched teeth.

His eyes widened; he had not heard her quite so ferocious before. Instead of continuing to tug on his arm, she walked to the stairs then hesitated when he did not follow. She turned around and shot him a glare that would have melted stone.

Your mother must have had the patience of Job,
she had said. Ronan felt his lips tug upward. Too bad he didn’t have the energy. He would have shown her exactly just why his mother had indeed possessed the patience of Job. His smile grew. Lia would soon learn, he decided.