Dawn Annis (7 page)

At the end of the passage, a door hung ajar. The moonlight from the small window inside the room allowed Kate to see movement as she neared. She set the candle on the floor and crept closer, peeking in. A putrid smell hung in the air. There she saw a man doubled over and trying to walk around the bed, holding his arm against his chest. His long, grey hair hung in wet strands around his face, the sheen of sweat obvious on his face and arms. His gasps of breath were tortured and each one sounded as if it would be his last. Kate ran into the room and put her arms around the man to help him back to bed. The man, startled by her touch, jumped.

“Good God, have ye sent me a haunt?” he cried then promptly fainted.

Chapter 9

When the big man’s knees gave way, Kate stumbled but was able to guide his fall onto the bed, the quilt around her falling to the floor. Lurching with the burden of his weight, she eased him down. She bent down and grunted as she picked up his legs. She rolled his body farther into the bed. She darted into the passage and retrieved her candle. Shielding the flame, she set the candle on a table next to the bed.

She turned and surveyed the man lying before her in the candlelight.

“Oh, dear God. What has happened to you?”

The man wore a blood-stained, sweat-soaked shirt and plaid. Kate could see his stark white face in the candlelight. His forehead was hot to her touch.

The smell of urine and pus overwhelming, she gagged.

With the bodice of her gown held to her nose, Kate did a quick examination of the man, flicking open his torn shirt and tartan. She saw what appeared to be a deep wound on his chest and several smaller wounds on his shoulder and stomach. From what she could see, a purplish bruise started beneath the man’s arm and ran down his side to where his plaid gathered at his waist.

“I believe this bruise goes down his hip.” Her brow puckered. “I will have to strip him to assess any further damage.”

She was not a young miss and had seen a man’s naked body before. The injured man was in no position to be concerned with modesty. She doubted he would even realize she was unclothing him.

Kate hurried back to her own room. She stripped her bed, gathered her herb bag and a pitcher of water. She raced back to the ailing man.

“These people are barbarians. To let a man suffer like this is absurd. His wounds are not even properly bathed!” Kate took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This is cruel.”

She began removing the offending clothes.

“Disgusting. I’ll have to cut the clothes off him.” In places, his shirt was glued to his body where the blood and pus dried.

She retrieved a small knife from her bag. As she cut and peeled the garments away from the wounds, they began to bleed once again. She went to work tearing the plaid into squares and washing the blood, sweat, pus, and urine salve from his body.

“Disgraceful. To leave a man to die, there is no excuse for it,” she muttered.

Kate dipped her rags into the bowl time and again, gently cleansing his body. She rinsed and wiped and rinsed again, using the water in her pitcher until it was bloody and thick.

Looking around the room, she noticed another pitcher and bowl on a stand in the corner. Kate hurried over to it, tripping briefly on the quilt she foolishly left on the floor. Grabbing the quilt, she threw it into a corner. She returned with the bowl and pitcher, carrying them back to the bed.

When Kate glanced down at the man, his eyes were open and he was staring straight at her.

“Aye, ye are a ghost or an angel?” His pain was evident in his short, gasping breaths.

She remembered she wore the white nightgown and robe Merta had given to her.

She peered into his eyes again and said, “I am here to help you. My name is Kate. I am a prisoner here. Who are you, and what were you doing out of bed in your condition?”

“Ah, lass, I am Seamus, the old laird of this castle and clan. I come away scathed by the damn Campbells.” Seamus drew a deep, rattling breath and coughed violently, his body retching. When he regained control, he said, “I was seeking a wee drink of water.”

“Sh-hh,” Kate whispered. “No more for now. I am cleaning you up. We need to get your wounds to stop bleeding.”

Seamus looked at her, his eyes wet with tears.

He patiently lay on the bed while Kate put a cup of water to his lips and held his head up so he could drink.

She set the cup down and continued to clean the wounds to his chest, shoulder, and stomach. As she cleaned, she inspected his various bruises focusing on the one beneath his arm and down his side.

“Och, lass, careful with an old man,” Seamus hissed in pain.

“Oh, I am sorry. I have to lift your arm to see.”

Seamus grimaced, pain etched on his face. Kate finished washing him. The bedclothes were filthy.

“Seamus, you and I are going to get your bed clean.”

He shot her a skeptical glance.

“I am going to roll you to one side of the bed and change the blanket. We will do the same on the other. Are you ready?”

Bracing himself, Seamus nodded.

Dawn was making a slow appearance in the eastern sky through the solid pane window. Birds started to sing. Had she really worked the whole night through?

Once he was clean and in a clean bed, Kate took an assessment of Seamus’ injuries. Several of his ribs appeared broken. A blow must have caused the bruise down his side. She and Seamus struggled to sit him up. She wrapped strips of plaid around his chest area and under his arm to hold the ribs tightly in place while they healed.

The smaller cuts on his stomach were superficial but not healing properly. The shoulder wound was small, deep and infected. The wound in his chest however was appalling. As far as she could tell, no vital organs had been hit. The area oozed blood and putrid-smelling pus.

Kate dug into her herb bag. She pulled out basil and garlic. “I am putting crushed basil on your wounds. It will stop the bleeding.”

Seamus nodded.

She made a plaster of ground garlic and water.

“I’ll spread a paste on your shoulder and chest. It is going to sting, but will draw the infection out.” She would need better light to examine the chest injury further and decided to wait for later in the morning.

She shook out one of the quilts she found on Seamus’s bed and laid it over him.

“This will make you feel better. Clean and dry.”

“Aye.”

Kate stepped over to the fireplace and stirred the embers adding wood for a blazing fire. Placing dried Valerian and Willow bark in a pot with the last of the fresh water, she went to the bed and spoke to him while she waited for it to boil.

“I’m preparing a warm tea for you that will bring down the fever and help you to sleep.”

Seamus smiled at her and shivered under the thick quilt. “Bless ye, lass. I am cold.”

“The tea will help to warm you. I will add another quilt if you would like.”

Seamus nodded.

Kate brewed the medicinal tea, allowing it to steep. While she waited, she gathered what was left of the shirt, tartan, and the soiled washing cloths and made a pile near the door. She straightened the room and stoked the fire once more. When the tea was ready, she helped Seamus sit up enough to drink. When he finished, she laid him back down, covering him once again.

Seamus smiled at her and closed his eyes.

Kate gathered her things and quietly left the room. She went to her chambers. Setting down the candle and her herb bag, she stretched her arms high above her head and let them fall. The night had been long. Merta had left a saffron shift and a brown skirt, both of which fell to just above Kate’s ankles. Kate left the stays as she couldn’t tighten them alone and went down the stairs for the crowded morning meal. On her way, she paused when she saw Merta.

“Merta, there is an injured man upstairs. I am shocked to find this man in such a state. I have no idea who has been caring for him in the past. I do not need to know. However, I will be taking over now,” Kate told her, brooking no argument.

“After I’ve finished my meal, I will be returning to his room to see how he fares. In the meantime, if you will send up a pitcher of fresh water and a clean cup to be placed on the table next to his bed, I would be grateful. Please fill the cup so if he wishes, water is available to him.

“I have left a pile of soiled bandages and clothes on the floor near the door, if you would be so kind as to have them removed. The clothes should be burned. Please have the bandages boiled and laundered as I will have need of them again.”

“Aye, m’lady. What brought ye to his aid?”

“His request for a simple cup of water.”

“I will do as ye ask. If ye have need of anything more, come to me.”

“Seamus is very ill. His life is in the balance. It will be some time before we know how he will fare.”

Merta spread the word that the old laird was resting easier. The people gave a collective sigh of relief.

“Thank ye, m’lady, for savin’ our laird,” a man said as he approached Kate. “Let me take yer hand.”

Others approached Kate, giving their thanks for her efforts in regard to their old laird.

By helping Seamus, she’d quickly earned a certain respect.

“I must be quick to remind you, Seamus’s condition is very grave, indeed. My help may have come too late,” Kate warned. “However, his pain has lessened. He is resting comfortably.”

“Thank ye, m’lady.”

“Yer a godsend.”

Kate sat down to her meal in deep thought and silence except for the occasional interruption of someone stopping by to give their thanks. She was puzzled about Seamus and his condition. Why did Merta and the clan accept her help and her authority? Why had they left him in such a inhumane state? Kate had watched Iain run off a man. Had he been caring for Seamus? Or was he one of men of medicine who did the patient more harm than good? This was the first time she saw for herself how truly harmful they could be. Shane and his clan were ignorant, not negligent.

Kate felt good Merta trusted her with the old laird and vowed to herself to help him heal to the best of her abilities.

With her heart lighter, she went outside to the old herb garden. She had a determination borne of necessity.

“Och, m’lady, ye have done a wonderful thing, ye have indeed,” Iain said as he approached her. “The old man was wasting away and us not able to do a thing for him,” Iain added as he spit to the ground. “I run off that worthless piece of dung Shane had caring for him. He come around claiming he could make him right as rain. Of course we all believed him.” Iain spit again. “Drossy fool.”

Kate smiled and patted Iain on the arm as she walked on. “I will do what I can,” she said as she glanced over her shoulder.

Kate reached the garden and examined it closely to see what exactly was growing there and if any of the plants could be salvaged. Studying the area, she found the first buds of chamomile, echinacea, comfrey, wild basil, and sage. She also found a corner with garlic and onions growing. She picked a few of the new comfrey leaves for the bruises on her face.

On her way back up to check on Seamus, she stopped to talk to Merta. She waited a little distance away, as Merta was engaged in conversation with a small group of minstrels and a monk. The rough, brown cowl on the monk’s robes covered his face. The group spoke in low tones and Kate saw one of the men nod as Merta pointed to a corner of the hall where a meal was being laid out for them. The men moved away.

“Merta, is it possible to have a fence erected around the herb garden? I noticed it yesterday. I believe there may be herbs I can use for Seamus.”

“Aye, ‘tis.” She grinned. “After what ye have done with Seamus, I think there won’t be complaint about that.” Merta put her hands on her hips. “Would ye care to have some lads clear the ground?”

“Thank you, Merta. Help would, indeed, be appreciated. If you wouldn’t mind, it would be better if I accompany them once they start. I want to preserve as many of the herbs as I can and the boys may pull up something other than a weed,” she said to Merta with a brief smile.

Merta nodded her understanding. “We won’t be started without ye. The garden has not been used since Shane’s mother, Elizabeth, passed on. I could barely keep up with the kitchen vegetable gardens and I had to let the flower and herb gardens go. I dinna know how to care for them.

“Elizabeth told me she would teach me. Life was busy and the days were always full. There never did seem to be enough time to do all. It hurt me to let Elizabeth’s gardens go to weed. Will be good to see it bloomin’ again.”

When they finished, Kate went up to check on Seamus. Merta followed.

“Thank ye, m’lady. Thank ye. We were all in despair as to himself. Now there is a wee bit of hope to my way of thinking. And that’s the God’s honest truth,” she said softly with tears in her eyes. “I canna tell ye the worry we’ve been through. Shane, most of all. He’ll be right pleased when he comes home.”

“Merta, I mustn't tell you for sure Seamus will recover. I can only do my best to help him. All I can tell you is he will not suffer so,” Kate said, trying once again to keep the people of the clan from getting their hopes up.

“For now, lass, ‘tis enough. ‘Tis enough.”