The Bard (Highland Heroes #5) - Maeve Greyson Page 0,87
her mouth. “Here. Eat.” Then he frowned. “Ye spit out yer medicine I made for ye so ye could sleep. Why did ye do that?”
She took the bread and nibbled it to appease him. “I couldna breathe with the gag in my mouth. I’m sorry, Heckie.”
“It wasna a gag!” he snapped. His angry scowl shifted to an even darker look. “I put a real gag in Jenny’s mouth after I hit her enough to shut her maw. Put enough medicine in it to make her sleep forever.” He suddenly laughed, but it echoed with a chilling sound. “First time I can ever remember that nattering hen being quiet. I shouldha cut off her mouth a long time ago with a good hit or two.”
“Might I have a sip of water?” she asked as calmly as she could. “And thank ye for the bread.” She wanted to ask more about Jenny but was afraid to. What medicine? And he had struck her? Heckie had always been so gentle and harmless. But there was something unsettling about him now. The wildness in his eyes was the worst she had ever seen it.
Heckie’s smile returned before he shuffled out of the circle of the lantern’s light and scrabbled about in the shadows. “I’ll light yer lantern now. I didna want the light to bother ye whilst the medicine I gave ye helped ye sleep. I didna give ye near as much as I gave Jenny.”
Sorcha recognized the strike and spark of flint against steel. Then another light added its glow to what looked to be a small chamber stocked with crocks, cloth sacks, and a roughly made table.
Heckie lifted a water bag from a hook embedded in the corner of the table and filled a small cup. “Just got water for ye to drink right now, but I promise we’ll have wine and whisky soon.” He held it out with a smile.
“Thank ye, Heckie,” she forced out. Heckie was not her savior. She feared to imagine what he would become as he sank deeper into his madness.
He pulled up a stool and patted the straw pallet on which she lay. “I’ll build us a better bed than this, too.” With a shy ducking of his chin, he stole a glance at her. “’Course we canna share it ’til ye’re all better, and we’re wed.”
She chose to ignore that comment if he would allow it. “How long have ye lived here, Heckie? I thought ye shared quarters in the barracks with yer Da?”
His look immediately darkened again. He stood so fast, the stool beneath him tumbled across the floor. “I only go to the barracks when I must.” Both his hands closed into fists. “If I dinna do as they ask, they’ll tell Da all sorts a lies about me. Lies like they told him about me before. Da threatened to have me locked away. Just like he did to my mam before she birthed me.”
“Who makes ye do things, Heckie? Who threatens to tell lies about ye? I’ll have them hanged for picking on ye.” She had no idea what the lad might have suffered. But in his state of mind, who knew if what he said was true? She had never heard of any cruelty in the barracks, and the worst thing she had ever heard that MacIlroy had done to his son was ignore him. Mama had never told her anything about Heckie’s mother. She would just shake her head and say it was something they shouldn’t speak of.
“Tell me their names. Ye know neither Da nor I want ye mistreated.”
He made a face and shook his head. “I willna trouble ye with such rot that isna fit for my sweet betrothed’s tender ears. Dinna fash yerself about what will soon be made right. I swear I’m gonna make this world the way it’s supposed to be just for ye.” With a thump of his fist against his chest, he gave a curt nod. “I’ll be killing the ones in need of killing. All ye have to do is stay here and heal. Once I’m done, then ye can be the wife for me that I knew ye would always be. Once I get our world all set, I’ll bring ye out into it.” With a stern look, he lifted up his lantern from the floor. “Ye’ll not be troubled with the outside until I have it all fixed up just right for ye. No’ a moment before, mind ye.” With