An Immortal Descent

“And what a two days it’s been, eh?” He chuckled softly, and I smiled in return. “I plan to set off at first light. Don’t like leaving while you’re at odds with those two gentlemen, but Fianna and the girls need me home in case Calhoun comes sniffing around.”

 

 

Ailish squeaked so loudly the young men paused in their conversation to look at us. The elder Calhoun couldn’t hurt her anymore, but the son remained at large. I despised the fear that Paddy still caused her. I also hated sending Seamus off under so dark a shadow.

 

“Do me a favor, Mr. MacCabe. When you get home, tell Fianna what I did today.”

 

He gave me a queer look. “The hand or the lungs?”

 

“Both. And be very specific about my gift.”

 

A burst of laughter escaped him. “She’ll think me daft, lass, talking on about such things.”

 

My expression remained serious. “You’d be surprised how much Fianna will understand.”

 

He began to lift the pipe to his mouth again. Midway up, he seemed to reconsider, giving the pipe a dark look before lowering it again. “If’n you think it best.”

 

“I do. And then I think you should ask her what happened to Calhoun.”

 

A spark of understanding seemed to snap between us. “I’ll ask her then.”

 

I heard footsteps a moment before the maid came into the room. “Yer bath be ready, miss.”

 

My body groaned with anticipation. Grabbing the saddlebags, I hoisted myself from the chair. Seamus stood as well.

 

I extended my hand to him, which he encased between both of his own. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. MacCabe. Please give Fianna my best.”

 

“That I’ll do.” He released my hand. “Be careful, lass.”

 

I took a few steps, and then on a whim turned back around. “One last thing, Mr. MacCabe. Go dté tú fd bhrat Bhrighde.” May you travel safely under Brigid’s mantle was a fairly ambiguous statement that might be a simple nicety. Or it might provide the answers I wanted him to know, but was forbidden to speak aloud.

 

A crease appeared between his brows. “Brigid, you say?”

 

“I’ve found her to be a great comfort to me.” It was my turn to wink. “An uncommonly good healer if you know what I mean.”

 

The crease vanished as his brows shot up toward his hairline. He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again with a snap.

 

“Godspeed to you, sir.” With a sly smile, I turned and followed the maid from the room.

 

Ailish stayed close on my heels, the burlap sack clamped tight to her chest. “You’ve a sneaky tongue, you do, skirting the rules like that.”

 

“He would have learned the truth soon enough from Fianna. I just wanted to help out a bit in case he has a hard time believing her.”

 

“Oh, he’ll believe her all right, though she may not be thanking you for stirring the pot so.”

 

“He deserves to know, after everything he’s done for us.”

 

“I guess you’re right.” She rubbed at a dirt smudge on the tip of her nose

 

“Shall I order fresh water once I’m finished?”

 

Ailish moved toward the front door. “I’ve no time for bathing just yet. Go on and soak all you like. I’ll be back by supper.”

 

“Where are you going—”

 

She slipped outside before I finished the last word.

 

*

 

The bathing chamber was fairly small with no windows and only the one interior door. From the hearth on the far side of the room, firelight played on the whitewashed walls and gray flagstone floor. An elongated cast-iron tub sat just off-center, nearer to the fire. Warm honeysuckle suffused the air, and I had to stop myself from groaning aloud as I sank into the steamy water.

 

Lots of scrubbing and several pitchers of water later, the maid wound my damp locks into a tight knot atop my head. “Lean in a bit, miss, and I’ll wash yehr back next.”

 

I hunched forward until my chin brushed against the water, and small ripples formed under my breath.

 

A rustle of skirts sounded behind me. “Now where did I put that cloth?” Footsteps moved through the room. “I must have dropped it in the hallway. Don’t worry, miss, I’ll have it tracked down in no time.”

 

She returned a moment later, a little louder in her haste. Pulling my knees to my chest, I rested my cheek toward the hearth. The flames danced at eye level as I listened to the girl shake out her skirts and readjust her sleeves. Kneeling behind me, she dipped a hand into the tub.

 

Water trickled from the cloth, followed by the lather of soapsuds into the linen folds. With each movement, her breath remained slow and methodic as though there was nothing else in the world that needed to be done. For a moment, I was allowed to forget that no one had to be saved, killed, or forgiven.

 

Starting at my shoulder blades, the maid moved the cloth in small circles, up to my neck. She was thorough indeed, washing every inch down both sides before ending in the small of my back well beneath the water.

 

I sighed my contentment as she traced a slow line up my spine. “If you’ll soap the cloth again, I can finish washing.” Once done, I would soak until the water turned cold. Only then would I be ready to face the world.

 

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