Chapter Fifteen

"[Hippocrates (460-375BC)] was the first who invented devices based on principles of axial traction and three points correction for correction of curvatures of the spine and the management of spinal diseases."

NCBI at NIH.gov

Ye're ugly.

Her father's words slithered around inside Sara, biting her. But Rory hadn't seen the ugly red marks across her back. And he wanted her. Sara knew it, had seen it, had heard it in his words out in the garden.

Did he think she'd seduce him to win MacLeod secrets? He'd admitted he trusted no one. Her stomach unclenched. That was better than rejecting her because of her fiery marks.

She huffed and descended the tower steps two days after Rory had left her cheeks flaming in her dark tower room. She hadn't even had a chance to talk to him about hiding the Fairy Flag somewhere else.

"Are you ready?" Eleri asked, walk-running down the corridor from her own tower.

Sara retied her cape strings that had already loosened and smiled. "I am." She took Eleri's gloved hand, and they made their way down the steps and across the great hall while Eleri chattered on.

"I wonder how much we look alike. And you said she draws. Maybe she can draw something, and I can fill it in with my paints."

The hall was empty except for John and Simon, who nursed tankards while they played a game of chess before the hearth. Eleri waved to them but continued to talk. They waved back and nodded to Sara. She nodded back. 'Twas as if they thought better of her after she'd punched Winnie and admitted doing the same to Gilbert. Or they pitied her for Jamie's brutality and horrifying threats. The whole village was talking about it from what the maids told Sara.

They continued down to the ferry where Reid waited to help them cross safely.

"Thank you," Sara said, smiling at the nervous man. She hadn't had a chance to ask him about himself. "I expected to have to pole us across myself."

"'Tis my responsibility to look out for ye," Reid said, his face growing red.

"Is it?"

"Aye, milady. I will be your steward while ye're here." Reid strained to push the long pole into the muck under the water. Slowly the ferry moved from the edge of Dunvegan. Eleri and Sara exchanged a look. The girl wanted to help Reid push the pole, too, but he'd have taken offense.

Sara cleared her throat. "Margaret said you're from the Isle of Lewis."

He walked along the edge of the ferry, keeping them moving. "Aye, milady, but there were more opportunities here on Skye."

"When did you come to Dunvegan?" she asked, tilting her head. The man was fidgety, and she wondered if he'd been tormented for his slight figure and nervousness. Perhaps that's why he seemed vaguely familiar. Her friend back at Dunscaith, Beatrice, had the same way about her.

"Three years ago, milady, and I'm happy to be of service." They bumped into the land on the other side.

"You're doing a fine job," she said, giving him an encouraging smile. He turned away from her to tie the ferry to the dock.

He glanced behind him at the crunch of gravel under hooves, and she lifted her gaze.

Sara gasped. "Lily!" Holding her skirts, she hopped off the ferry and ran to her white horse who walked from around the thick castle wall.

"Rory thought she was yours," Jok, Rory's red-haired friend, said. He led Lily and another horse while Brodrick led Rory's gray charger and a smaller horse out.

"This is so exciting," Eleri said as Jok helped her mount the short mare and handed her the reins.

Sara stroked Lily's sleek white neck and hugged her. She'd been well cared for in the MacLeod stables.

"We should ride." Rory's voice sent a jolt through her, and she pulled away from Lily to see him standing behind her.

She tamped down her surly questions about his avoiding her, gathered her petticoat with one hand, and put her toes into the stirrup. But then Rory's hands caught her around the middle, and he lifted her up into the saddle. Before she could inform him in a haughty voice that she was certainly capable of mounting herself, he walked away to his own horse. She huffed instead.

Sara patted Lily's neck, and the mare tossed her head as if happy to be riding out again, her mistress on her back. Sara ignored the glances of the villagers as they rode through the village, because most of them wore hostile frowns. Instead, she watched Rory riding his dappled gray charger. As they rode by the burned chapel, she was reminded of why he hadn't given in to the fire between them. She was a Macdonald, daughter of the devil.

Sara and Rory flanked Eleri, and Jok rode behind. "Who do I have to thank for taking such good care of Lily?" Sara asked.

Jok trotted up next to her. Fiery red hair was cut short to show a rugged jawline under a short beard and mustache of the same color. A profusion of freckles covered his pale skin. "I did," he said. "Thought she might bite me at first." Jok grinned at Lily. "But she gave me a sweet nibble instead."

Sara's inhale caught, and she coughed into her hand.

"Excuse me," Rory said, his voice strangled. He pressed his mount into a run.

They watched him gallop, dust flying up behind him. "Maybe he's scouting ahead," Eleri said.

"Looked a bit like the devil was chasing him," Jok said, frowning.

Sara exhaled slowly and wondered if horns were sprouting from her head.

The three of them followed Rory at a fast pace under heavy clouds and made quick time through the woods to her aunt's cottage.

"Eliza!" Sara called as their party halted before Morag's cottage. Black crows fluttered their wings at the disturbance but didn't leave the stone wall that ran around the cottage.

The door swung open, and her oldest brother, Kenan, ran out. "Sara!"

He lifted her down from Lily and swung her around in a hug. "Bloody hell, Sara," he said and kissed her head. "I worried I'd lost ye in Father's mad plan." He shook his head, fury sharpening the lines of his face. "He's getting worse all the time."

"I'm well." She looked behind him when he set her down. "Where's Eliza?" Sara's heart felt too low in her chest. If Eliza was there, she'd have run out with Kenan. "We've brought Eleri." She gestured toward Eleri who had dismounted with Jok's help and smiled as Morag bowed to her. Morag straightened and touched the girl's back, keeping her smile as she spoke quietly to Eleri.

Kenan exhaled, his gaze drifting to Eleri. "Och but she does look very much like Eliza."

Sara's fingers curled into her brother's tunic as if to shake him. "You left Eliza at Dunscaith?"

"Father won't allow her to come," Kenan said.

Her stomach clenched. "Why not?"

Kenan touched the bandaged poultice across her wrist. "What is this?" He turned a hard gaze on Rory.

"Jamie woke," Rory said. "He was not…forgiving about the fire."

Jok crossed his arms. "He banished Lady Sara from Dunvegan."

Kenan glared at Rory. "Ye allowed this—"

"'Twas unexpected," Sara cut in, her hand flapping at the unimportant question. "Why won't Father let Eliza come?"

Kenan continued to stare at Rory as if he battled inside on whether he should inflict some penance on him for Jamie's actions. Sara stomped her boot down on his toe.

"Bloody hell, Sara," Kenan said, wincing, and turned back to her. "He says ye don't need a lady's maid since ye didn't wed."

Sara huffed and strode past him to enter the warm cottage. She dropped into a wooden chair, resting her face in her hands. The fragrance of lavender filled the whitewashed room. "Oh, Eliza. How could I have left you there?"

"Ye didn't have a choice," Rory said. "And the wedding was supposed to bring an end to this bloody feud." It was the most he'd spoken to her since the night she'd been mortified with his rejection. She looked up from her hands but not at him.

Kenan had followed him inside. "And if ye're to leave Dunvegan, at Jamie's order, Eliza shouldn't go there anyway."

"She's not leaving Dunvegan," Rory stated.

Jok flapped his hand at a crow that had gotten too close and ducked inside. His frown moved to Rory. "She's not? Jamie ordered—"

"Sara is not leaving Dunvegan."

Morag and Eleri walked inside hand in hand. Her aunt frowned at Jok. "Dunscaith is unsafe for any woman or girl." Morag led Eleri to the hearth before turning to the room. "Walter Macdonald is a menace to this world." She held her hands palm to palm and touched the tip to her lips as if she were in prayer. "If only Elspet had realized his vileness, she would have poisoned him before he pushed her."

Jok swore under his breath.

Sara's face jerked up to stare at her. "Pushed?" Sara said, the word coming out on a gasp. She looked from Morag to Kenan. "Did you know this?"

Kenan exhaled. "Aunt Morag has discussed it with me, but there's no proof Mother didn't fall on her own."

Or jump , Sara thought, thinking of the misery her mother had endured.

"Get him drunk enough and he'll admit it," Morag said. "Bring him here, and I'll do what my sister couldn't bring herself to do."

"Is Father vile enough to murder his wife?" Sara asked.

Morag's gaze turned to Eleri, and the girl's eyes widened. "He…found out about me?" Eleri said.

Rory strode to her as if he could protect her from the knowledge. He brushed her hair from her face. "Ye take no blame in his foulness."

"There was a Macdonald spy at Dunvegan," Morag said and looked at Rory. "A young woman named Madeline who got word to Walter about Elspet and Alasdair and about the girls." She kept her gaze on him.

Madeline? Had Sara heard that name before?

Rory's face tensed and paled, but he crouched before Eleri, whose face was wide with guilt and ghastly fear. "Ye were a bairn of two years, El. Ye're not at fault, neither ye nor yer twin."

"We need to get Eliza out of Dunscaith," Sara said, standing with an urge to ride to Dunscaith that minute. "He may snap and take his revenge out on her."

"She's locked in her room," Kenan said. "Guarded as if he suspects we plan to take her."

"From a mere request to have her as a lady's maid?" Jok asked.

"An overreaction," Rory said.

Morag flicked her hand. "Not to a madman."

"And Gilbert is supporting him?" Sara asked.

Kenan tipped his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. "I think he questions his actions silently, but so far, he does whatever Father tells him. When Father dies, I'm sure he'll challenge me for the chiefdom." Kenan stood with his feet braced.

Sweet Mother Mary . Eliza must be rescued from the civil war brewing at Dunscaith. Sara exhaled long. "If this spy told Father what she suspected back when the twins were only two years old, and he hasn't harmed Eliza in the last ten years, she should be safe for a bit longer. Even if I'm not there." Her last words grew soft because she didn't know if they were true.

The fire crackled in the hearth as wind whistled around the corners of the snug cottage.

"Is he planning any other attacks on Clan MacLeod?" Rory asked.

"He hasn't said."

Sara walked over to slide an arm around Eleri. "Find out, Kenan. In a way that won't make him hold tighter to Eliza. See if there's a way to sneak her out without open bloodshed."

Her brother nodded. "I'll return immediately. The longer I'm away from Dunscaith, the less I can protect her."

He stepped before Eleri and bowed, making her blush. "I look forward to speaking with ye over a longer visit, sister."

She curtsied, the bend of her back making it look awkward, but she smiled. "I'd enjoy that." Her smile faded, and her hands clasped before her. "Please tell my sister I long to meet her and I think of her often now that I know about her. I'll paint a portrait of us together when she comes to Dunvegan."

"I will." Kenan smiled and then turned to Sara, his momentary brightness fading to gray. "Stay away from Jamie MacLeod." He glanced at Rory and then back to her. "If he harms ye again, I will kill him."

Sara huffed at the boast. "Which will increase the blood feud." She shook her head. "I can take care of myself. Don't wage war against him on my account."

Kenan looked at Rory, and Rory lifted his hand where Sara saw bright scars across his palm, just like the ones on Kenan's palm. Rory clenched his hand into a fist and brought it silently to his chest. "I will make certain Sara isn't at risk."

"My sisters come before the brotherhood." Kenan's face took on the granite hardness of a mountain.

"As does my sister," Rory said.

Sara looked between them. "Brotherhood?"

"And Jamie?" Kenan asked, his gaze still narrowed.

"And Gilbert?" Rory countered.

The negotiation between the two Highlanders was full of history and manly posturing. Sara willed herself not to interrupt despite her need to send Kenan on his way to Eliza. It was bonds like what the two men had forged in England that might bring their clans together.

Kenan made a fist with his own scarred hand and brought it to his chest. "Our brothers are poisonous to peace."

"Agreed," Rory said, and Kenan nodded as if that was enough to reinforce each other's loyalty to this brotherhood they'd formed.

"Excellent," Morag said, a smile on her unnaturally smooth face. A flapping at the window made Jok jump, his hand going to his sword. Morag glided to the window to see her crows and peered upward. "Clouds are moving in, and my bones feel rain coming. Perhaps a storm." She rubbed the knuckles of her right hand. "You will stay the night."

Kenan shook his head. "There's a friendly homestead several hours south of here." He glanced out the same window. "I'll beat the rain and be sooner back to Dunscaith with Eliza."

"We should go, too," Rory said. "Ye haven't room for four horses in your stable."

Eleri's gaze darted to Morag. Their aunt nodded, and Eleri looked back to her brother. "I…Mistress Morag says she knows some exercises that can lessen the pains in my back."

"She can stay the night," Morag said. "I could teach her to prevent the twist in her spine from worsening. Come back tomorrow or the next day to fetch her."

"She also paints." Eleri pointed at some stretched canvases in the corner under a wooden shelf of clay pots and brushes. "And weaves reeds and grasses."

"'Tis not safe," Rory said.

"Please," Eleri said. "I've longed to escape Dunvegan for a bit."

"The bars I have for my door will prevent anyone from entering," Morag said. Her smile widened, showing straight teeth. "And my crows are known to peck eyes from faces."

Eleri went to Rory. "Please, brother. 'Tis an adventure, and I feel perfectly safe."

Rory looked at Jok. "Ye will stay with them tonight."

"But ye will be…alone," Jok said, glancing at Sara.

At the word, Sara's stomach flipped.

"We'll be racing back to Dunvegan," Rory said, frowning at his warrior and friend.

"And I'll smell like a pot of lavender flowers by morning," Jok said, letting out a breath. He looked at the crows who bobbed their heads down so they could look in the window. "If we manage to keep our eyes, we'll return to Dunvegan in the morn."

Rory gave Eleri a quick hug. "Take care, El."

Sara tied her cloak tightly around her neck and noticed Jok looking at her. He turned to Rory. "The weather could turn vicious."

"We'll ride faster than the storm," Rory said.

Sara opened the door, and a great wind blew into the cottage. It rustled the bunches of rosemary Morag had hanging from the beams and whipped the lavender smell about with the earthy aroma of coming rain. "Faster than the storm," she said with a huff. "I predict I'll be wet and hot tonight." Her cheeks warmed as her tongue once again moved without thought. "Hot from the frantic riding." Even that sounded impure.

Jok coughed into his fist while Rory stared at her. Morag chuckled.

Were they all thinking carnal thoughts? Only Eleri looked unimpressed as she inspected Morag's paintings.

"Go on quickly," Morag said, shooing her out the door. "The Flame of Dunscaith shouldn't get soaked by rain."

The rain smell was heavy and fragrant. "The name is a farce," Sara called back.

Morag shrugged. "Walter may have created the name on the spot, but you'd be wise to use it to its full advantage."

Sara hurried after Rory out of the cottage. Several crows hunkered down under a covered perch over Morag's well. Jok jogged over to his mount, leading it and Eleri's spry mare to the small stable behind the dwelling.

"Lily dislikes storms." Sara slid her hand down the mare's neck. The horse's nostrils flared as she sniffed the air, and her ears flitted backward.

"We could take Jok's horse back," Rory said. "Leave Lily in Morag's stable."

"She'll become crazed and escape, fleeing across the spongy moor until she catches her hoof and breaks her leg. She needs to come with me to your sturdy stables."

Sara quickly checked the girth and face straps on the mare. "There now, Lily, let's run a race back to Dunvegan." The horse tossed her head as if agreeing.

Hoisting herself up, Sara flung her leg over the saddle before anyone could help her, bunching her petticoats upward to allow the straddle. Jok spoke low to Rory, his face etched with concern. Rory shook his head, his features hard, and spun away, striding to Airgid.

Rory mounted and called to Eleri. "Get inside behind the barred door." She waved and ran inside.

Sara followed as Rory surged forward to fly down the path that cut across a hard-packed moor before the forest. Sara could feel the slight tremor in Lily's body and stroked the horse's long neck whenever she tossed her head.

They rode for half an hour in a slow run next to each other, Lily's nostrils sucking in even breaths. With the dark clouds racing in, twilight was falling quickly. The mist turned to light rain, which turned into a deluge of cold water. Sara threw her hood over her head and raced, the drops hard stones against her face. Rory kept right behind Lily's flying tail.

They had almost another hour to ride. Even with their cloaks being made of fulled wool, they'd be soaked through if they continued in this windy gale toward Dunvegan. Misty clouds descended with the rain, giving an otherworldly appearance to the moors stretched out before them. The mist rose and fell with the sheets of rain as if they battled against each other.

"Sara," Rory called, and she looked back over her shoulder. He said something but all she heard was "Dun Beag Broch."

A bolt of lightning zigzagged down from the angry sky about a mile off, cutting through the clouds and rain like a blast from a vengeful Zeus in Greek mythology. Sara yelped with the deafening crack of thunder.

Lily squealed with terror, her front hooves churning upward as if fighting off the god himself. "Sweet Saint Mary!" The slippery reins yanked out of Sara's hands.