Relic - Jaid Black Page 0,16

Doctor than he’d managed to summon in all of his days. Enough was enough. “Doctor,” he said gruffly, “who are all of you and from where do you come? I—”

He was about to blister his ears with chastisements concerning the proper respect due him when the wench cried out. His dark eyes widened as she began falling toward the ground. ‘Twas only the laird’s quick reflexes that saved the wee lass from hitting her head and mayhap rolling into the fire.

“What is wrong with her?” Angus bit out. All these mysteries were giving his head the ache. He held her in his arms nigh unto reverently despite that sad fact. “Who is she and what in the saints has happened?”

“Mayhap she’s dead,” Colban offered.

Angus frowned. “I can see her breathing, dunce.” Oft times, his lifelong friend erred on the side of dire predictions. “Canna you see her chest rising and falling?”

“Oh. Aye.”

He rolled his eyes, said a silent prayer for patience, and looked to Doctor. “Well?”

“Her name is Lady Octavia Benatti,” Doctor said quickly. “She heralds from Rome.”

“She is not dressed as a lady. I dinna ken what she is dressed as. The thrice of you wear the same tunics and breeches. Why?”

“We were, uh, set upon by marauders and thieves. Lady Octavia insisted we wear these outfits so as not to be robbed of what little we had left.”

“You were travelling with them? You said in the dungeon you’d never seen them afore.”

“Did I?”

“Aye.”

“I’m an old man,” Doctor said a bit too feebly. “The vision. It, uh, comes and goes.”

“How many years have you seen?”

“Fifty-three.”

“Aye, ‘tis old, that.” Leastways, he would still have superior eyesight to the Karriks’ current healer, Old Maude. The last time a Karrik clanswoman had gone into labor, the seventy-year-old had tried to deliver the bairn a’tween the husband’s legs instead of the wife’s.

Angus held the wee lady tighter, studying her fine features. Doctor’s loyalties obviously lied with his lady, but he had to be speaking at least some of the truth about her. For starters, Lady Octavia was no serf. She was far too healthy for that. “Why did she leave Rome?”

“Why did she leave Rome?” Doctor half-heartedly repeated. “Yes, why did she leave…” He cleared his throat. “Her castle was under siege from a knight who thought to force marriage on her.” The more Doctor spoke, the more he seemed to warm to the topic. He nigh unto never shut up. “She had rebuffed his advances, you see, and so the knight sought to take her by force.”

“Bluidy Romans,” Colban interjected, frowning. “They sound as bad as the English.”

“Far worse,” Doctor assured him. “At any rate, Lady Octavia decided she would rather be homeless than wed to the knight so she left her keep with me and her favored guard in tow.” He jabbed a finger toward the dark-haired man who was saying nothing. “That right there is her trusted soldier, Sir James Bellamy.”

Angus grunted. He was pleased the lady was unwed. Moreover, ‘twas best for Sir James had he never taken her to the bed sheets. Leastways, the laird would kill him if he had. Angus had decided to keep her from the moment he saw her. He had denied that fact to himself for mayhap a minute, but when his mind was made up, ‘twas set in stone.

“Did you run from Lady Octavia?” Angus asked. “You said they were coming for you and you didn’t have the sound of a mon who wished to be found.”

Doctor was silent for a moment as if working out a complex riddle in his mind. The laird frowned. “Dinna tell me a lie.”

“No, no, of course not! I just wonder how much of the story I should leave to milady to tell you.”

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

“Very well. I was assuming the evil knight and his men would come for me. They wanted my healing capabilities, you see. I left her for fear the knight would find her whilst looking for me.”

“What is the name of this knight?” Colban asked.

“He is known only as Xenocann.”

“’Tis an odd name.”

“What? Oh yes. Yes it is.”

“Mayhap he’s dead now.”

Doctor sighed. “You seem to think most people are dead or dying. Still, one can but dream.”

The laird had had enough of their banter. His attention was focused back on Lady Octavia. “Mayhap the lady needs more to eat and drink,” Angus decided. “I canna see another reason for her to take a faint.”

“You’re probably correct,”