“Nay.” It had seemed too intimate, and even though she currently wished to know how Coll’s mission fared and exactly where he was, she would never be able to cross the wide expanse of distance between them. She couldn’t even reach her parents, not that she would have done so even if she could. They would have come for her, placed their very lives on the line when they did. “There are limits to my ability. Since I’ve been without someone to guide me in the use of it, I lack the skill to do all that I likely could.”
“A little training is all that will take, and I’ll ensure you receive that guidance the first moment I can. Tell me more about Fiona.” His longing to know everything about her, all that had happened these past twenty years, flared strongly through his mind, just as she longed to know everything about him.
“Somewhere within Fiona’s own line the blood of the fae had mingled with hers, although several generations removed. She was the first to have been born with a skill in quite some time, although her empath ability was one Colin MacKenzie considered weak and feeble. She was grateful though, that he showed no interest in her.” She set the paste aside and gathered some clean cloths. “She wed a warrior of her father’s choosing last year and soon after she and Matthew left for Rhue Castle to aid Jeremiah. I missed her dreadfully when she sailed away.”
“I’ve never met Jeremiah in battle, but I’m aware Colin’s third-born son is a warrior of immense strength and now holds his own stronghold to the far north of MacKenzie land.” He loosened the ties of Gordon’s chausses and wriggled them down over his braies, his gaze flicking toward Hamish who checked on the bubbling water.
“Jeremiah is a blackguard just as his father is. Thankfully I’ve never had to spend a great deal of time with him since he was fostered with the MacLennans.”
“Does Gordon yet stir?” Hamish added another log.
“No’ as yet.” And he’d better not either until Ronan had ridden for Ardan and had gotten safely away. She hardly needed Gordon speaking of what had happened before they were ready for him to. Having her chosen one tossed into the dungeons by Gordon wasn’t permissible. She’d never allow it.
“What of you, Rand? How did word reach you of Coll’s call-to-arms?” Hamish rose and dusted his hands.
“Through word of mouth.”
“Hamish, Rand would never harm anyone within this keep. That I can assure you.” She motioned for Ronan to remove the bandaging from around Gordon’s head and wrist. “He has only ever aided me each time we’ve met.”
“You clearly champion the man, my lady.” He dipped his head in reverence to her.
“Aye, I do, for I already know he means us no harm.” She swished to the fire, dunked a cloth in the bubbling water and returned to Gordon. Ronan unraveled the bandages and she gently cleansed Gordon’s wounds before smearing the plantain paste she’d prepared across his flesh.
“Will he awaken when you stitch his wounds?”
“Nay, and I’ll make certain of it.” She selected a bottle of belladonna from her medicinal box, dabbed some onto a cloth and draped it over Gordon’s nose. The strongly scented sedative would ensure he felt no pain while she stitched his wounds, with the added benefit of keeping him in a deep sleep until she was ready for him to awaken.
She collected her needle and thread, pulled the three-legged stool across from the corner to Gordon’s bedside and rolled the sleeve of his brown tunic to his elbow. Carefully, she stitched his wounds closed with nice and neat stitches.
“Since it appears Gordon is at rest and shall be for a while we’ll leave for Ardan now.” Hamish crossed to Ronan. “Do you still wish to offer your sword arm to our cause?”
“Aye, and I’m more than ready to leave.” Ronan caught up his bag from where she’d set it.
“Good.” Hamish opened the door and motioned for Ronan to go through first. “Kyla, send word if any issue arises with Gordon, otherwise we’ll see you on our return.”
“Of course.” She snuggled deeper into Ronan’s mind. “Be careful.”
“Stay right with me, for as long as you can. I already crave this connection and have no desire for you to close it off.” He strode out the door and clomped downstairs, his booted tread drifting away.
“Dinnae forget what I said afore. Hamish has been instrumental in ensuring all has gone well of late, his knowledge immense. Tell him the truth, allow him to aid you as needed. He would never harm a Matheson.” Moving deeper within his mind, she tracked his thoughts and movements, her connection to him strong, far stronger than it had ever been with Fiona.
“I willnae forget, my mate.” Through the main door, he walked and as he crossed the inner bailey, he surveyed all, from the training warriors to the position of each and every guard along the battlements. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”