Chapter 3

Bonnie's arrow had pierced the man through the arm and Cathleen cursed under her breath as she approached him to assess the damage. It was supposed to be only a scratch, but with the way the man had flown in front of the laird, they were all lucky it had only pierced him through the arm instead of the heart, killing him instantly.

Neither of them had predicted something like this could happen, but in retrospect, they should have prepared for the possibility. Laird Drummond was an important man and he was bound to have people protecting him—even though this man didn't look like a guard. It was only natural that he would have someone by his side who would try to protect him from an attack.

Now that she stood closer to the man, Cathleen was instantly enchanted by the dark eyes that seemed to pierce right through her. For a moment, she was distracted by his looks—those dark eyes, his hair that resembled the night sky, the short beard that made him appear even more rugged than his size suggested. He was a big man, towering over Cathleen and over everyone around him, and when he stood to his full height, she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

Once the initial shock had passed, though, she was flooded with anger, not because the man had ruined her plan, but rather because she had failed to predict it. She should have been smarter than this. Now all their chances of infiltrating the castle had been ruined.

"Come," she said, her tone a little harsher than necessary. "Sit before ye fall down."

"I'm fine, actually," said the man and though he didn't seem particularly rattled by his injury, Cathleen still pulled him to the side, away from the crowd, looking for a place for him to sit.

"Ye can come inside," another man said, pointing to the inn a few steps away from them. "We can bring ye cloth an' water."

"Thank ye," said Cathleen as she dragged the man towards the inn. He grumbled under his breath as he followed her, claiming he didn't need all this, but at least he didn't try to resist.

In her panic, Cathleen had hardly noticed Laird Drummond as the man followed close behind, entering the inn right after them. It was only when the man came to help that she noticed him properly for the first time, seeing the glint of his silver mask in the light of the morning.

Could I still use this tae get intae the castle?

If she could strike up a conversation with him, if she could convince him that she was doing a good job, then perhaps he would be open to offering her the role of the healer for the time it would take for the clan's healer to return to work.

As the innkeeper brought her hot water and clean cloth, Cathleen poked and prodded at the wound, drawing a pained wince out of the man. She could see the effort it took him to keep quiet in the way his muscles tensed and his expression formed into a grimace, his teeth biting down hard on his lip to stifle his groans.

"It has gone clean through," she said, her fingers wrapping tightly around the part of the arrow that was sticking through the man's arm. She grabbed the blade that she always carried with her and began to saw the end of the arrow off, doing her best to keep it as still as possible so as to not worsen the injury.

The man's other hand curled over his thigh, fingers digging into the flesh until his knuckles turned bone-white. He was still doing his best to stay quiet, though it was harder now that Cathleen was working on the wound.

Next to them, Laird Drummond watched her carefully, with thinly-veiled interest and curiosity. Cathleen wouldn't have any other chances, she knew, but she also couldn't focus on a conversation with the laird when she was trying to help the other man.

Thankfully, the arrow seemed to have pierced only through flesh. It was a shallow wound, close to the edge of his arm, and so she wasn't so concerned about lasting damage—only about infection.

Once Cathleen managed to break off the back end of the arrow, she paused for a moment, looking at the two men with uncertainty. "This will hurt," she warned.

"I ken," said the man, nodding. "It's fine. Pull it out."

Cathleen looked at Laird Drummond, who only nodded. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the man's arm with one hand and the arrow with the other, and swiftly pulled it out of his arm.

This time, he couldn't stifle his scream. It echoed around the inn and Cathleen couldn't help but wince in sympathy.

"It's done now," she said as she reached for the clean cloths and the water, quickly pressing the cloth against the wound to stop the bleeding. "It's over."

Her soothing words would surely do little to help him relax when he was in so much pain, but she wanted to try, at least, to bring him some comfort.

With a deep sigh, the man let his head fall back, closing his eyes. "I dinnae suppose ye are lookin' fer a place tae stay," he told Cathleen, opening one eye again to glance at her. "Because we are lookin' fer a healer."

"A healer?" Cathleen asked, pretending that she knew nothing about it. Her heart pounded against her ribs but she tried to betray nothing and remain calm instead. This was the chance she had been waiting for. This was what she needed. "Forgive me… I'm nae from these parts. Dae ye work in the castle?"

"I am Laird Kian Drummond," the laird said, tilting his head in a small bow to Cathleen. In return, she feigned ignorance, widening her eyes as she rushed to bow to him. "An' this is Macauley Sinclair. Ye just saved me advisor's life."

This time, Cathleen didn't have to fake her surprise. So, that man was important, too, and he had already asked her to come to the castle as a healer. All she had to do was agree to it, but she didn't want to seem too eager.

"Ach, well… he wouldnae have died had I nae tended tae him," she said, deciding it would be best to appear humble and unconvinced about the job.

"But he would be in more pain an' in more risk," Laird Drummond pointed out. "I insist that ye come with us. We dinnae have a healer who can take care o' him now that he's injured an' I willnae risk anythin' happenin' tae him."

The two o' them are close.

Cathleen could hear it in the urgency of Laird Drummond's tone. There was leverage to be had there, in the relationship between them. It seemed that Macauley Sinclair was not only an advisor, but a dear friend, as well. Perhaps if she could get to Macauley, she could also get to Laird Drummond's plans that she had been asked to uncover.

"I have a sister," Cathleen said as she finished dressing Macauley's arm, wrapping a piece of cloth tightly around the wound. Some blood seeped into the fabric, but most of the bleeding had stopped, so she wasn't too concerned. Once they reached the castle, she would have to apply some salves and make sure the wound was clean, but for now, the tourniquet would have to do. "We… we travel together an' I cannae leave her. She is a healer, too."

"She is welcome in our castle," Laird Drummond was quick to say. "Ye may both come. The healer's quarters are large an' ye willnae have tae worry about food or shelter."

As he spoke, his gaze fell to her clothes, which seemed to have achieved their purpose. Before leaving their home, Cathleen and Bonnie had dressed in tunics that appeared well-cared for but old, the hems fraying and the colors fading. They looked like the kind of women who had to work to earn their living.

"Well…" Cathleen said, hesitating for one more moment just for the performance of it all. Then, she smiled gratefully at the two men, nodding. "In that case, I'd like tae come with ye tae the castle."

* * *

With a promise to meet them back at the inn before leaving for Castle Drummond, Cathleen rushed out to find her sister. Just as they had discussed before they had executed their plan, Bonnie was waiting for her by the church, pacing back and forth in the small garden next to it, her anxiety palpable to anyone who laid eyes on her. Thankfully, there were few passersby there and none of them paid her any mind.

Agitated people were nothing new near churches, after all.

When Bonnie spotted her, she ran to Cathleen, meeting her halfway. Before Cathleen could even say anything, Bonnie asked, "Is he alright? The man?"

"He's fine," Cathleen assured her and Bonnie finally deflated, letting out the breath she had been holding. "The arrow pierced him, but it only went through flesh. Dinnae fash. He will be alright."

A breathy, humorless laugh escaped Bonnie's lips. "Next time we have tae hurt someone, ye'll be the one tae dae it. I'm never doin' that again."

"Ye ken I'm nae good with an arrow," Cathleen reminded her. "Ye're the one who can shoot straight."

"Ye're good with a blade," said Bonnie.

"Dae ye expect me tae stab a man?" asked Cathleen. The mere notion was laughable.

Though she was, indeed, a good fighter, attacking with a knife was very different from attacking with a bow. One couldn't conceal the act when using a blade. Besides, as good of a fighter as she was, taking on an enemy like Macauley Sinclair could have proved lethal. "Besides, I doubt we will ever have tae dae this again. Let us hope this was the first an' last time."

Both men had already been too kind to Cathleen, filled with gratitude for her assistance. They didn't deserve any of this—the lies, the violence. Cathleen wanted to limit the damage to their clan as much as she could, though she knew it was nothing but a foolish hope. What the two of them were doing was already bad enough, as it would undoubtedly lead to war.

"So, is this it?" Bonnie asked, surely eager to see if their plan worked now that the shock of what had happened had subsided. "Did they say anythin'?"

"They asked me tae take the healer's place," Cathleen said. "Just like we planned. An' I told them I have me sister with me. They were more than happy tae invite ye tae the castle, as well."

For a moment, a smile spread over Bonnie's lips, but then it disappeared once more. Cathleen understood, though. She, too, couldn't reconcile the relief of knowing their plan was in motion with the fact that neither of them actually wanted the plan to work.

There was no good way out of this, Cathleen knew. Either there would be a war or Bonnie would be forced to marry Faolan and neither option sounded appealing.

"Come," Cathleen said, taking Bonnie's hand in hers. "We are tae meet them at the inn an' head tae the castle immediately. They said they will send men tae look fer the attacker."

Nodding, Bonnie followed Cathleen, the two of them weaving their way through the town's streets and then through the people as the crowd thickened. The entire time, Cathleen's head buzzed and her stomach twisted itself into knots, nausea gripping her at the thought of what was to come—of what she would have to do.