A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 19

"I can't imagine the pain she must be suffering to feel it even in her passed out state," Ailene said. "I wish we had something to give her."

"We don't have any laudanum?" Thorburn asked.

"Nay, Thorburn, I'm not a doctor," Ailene said, "just an experienced practitioner. I'd give her alcohol but she'd choke without being awake to swallow it."

"Is there nothing we can do to ease her pain?" Stuart asked.

"As soon as I've cleaned her injuries as best I can with water, I'm spreading my best salves and creams on them. Some help reduce pain a bit, but I fear this runs bone deep and will not be treated by anything I apply to the skin. I've got willow bark tea, but she cannot swallow that either. It's all I know to do."

Ailene kept working, cleaning a small section of her body, putting creams on the clean portion, then going to the next. She started to run out of what she carried and sent Stuart to her medical room to get more. When she'd done all she could, Ailene covered her up. Those people who'd been holding the lights were allowed to douse all but two lamps and sent to bed. The cook had put soup by the fire to heat up in case anyone got hungry, and plenty of water was heating and her kitchen cleaned of the vomit, so she retired. Only Ailene, Thorburn and Stuart remained, plus the guard who'd brought her in and still felt responsible in some way. They told him he could seek his bed, but he refused to go.

Ailene put her head on Stuart's shoulder and started to cry, finally able to release the emotions she'd experienced since seeing her.

"If it's Màiri, I shall never be able to forgive myself," she sobbed. "It will be my fault this happened to her."

Stuart patted her shoulder, saying, "You can't blame yourself for what's happened to her. Nobody could have foreseen this would happen. Blame the rotten bastard who actually did this to her."

"Who could have done this?" Ailene asked. "I can't believe it was human. It must be a demon or Satan himself."

"I know of no one who could be responsible for so heinous an act," Thorburn said. "It must be someone fairly close. I cannot imagine she could have gone far as badly hurt as she was."

"Man, beast, or foul creature from hell, I would like to string it up by it's guts and let the crows feast on it's eyes," Ailene said. "No one this evil deserves to live."

"I agree," Thorburn said. "I've heard of these types of tortures being done. Tis said the Inquisition may have visited torments such as these on their victims, but I've never witnessed worse."

"I once saw the skin peeled from the back of a man whipped for insulting the King of France," Frang said, "and William Wallace was drawn and quartered, after he was gutted. This is worse. His suffering lasted for a few hours and it was done. She suffered for weeks if the age of some of the older wounds is any indication."

"Why don't you go to bed," Ailene said. "I'll stay and keep an eye on her."

"Why don't you go," Stuart said. "I can keep an eye on her and wake you if she needs attention."

"Because I won't be able to sleep," Ailene said. "I shall close my eyes and see nothing but this poor girls maimed and mangled body. How could I sleep through that?"

"I don't think sleep will come easy for any of us," Thorburn said. "I'll not soon forget this either."

"Send for me if you need rest," Stuart said. "I'll take your place watching over her."

They all left, save the guard who found her. He refused to leave, feeling responsible in some way because found her first. Ailene did convince him to take a seat on the floor and lean back against the wall. She lowered the wicks on her lamps, putting the room in near darkness. After about an hour, she heard the guard snoring, sleep finally taking him. Weary herself, Ailene got up and walked around the room a bit to stir her blood and keep her from nodding off. She added some willow bark to one of the pots of steaming water, thinking it should be ready to drink in case the girl woke up and could drink a bit. It might help, if only a little. While stirring the bark, she heard a sound behind her. Thinking it was the guard stirring, she ignored it until she heard it again. It sounded like a groan of pain.

She rushed back to look at her patient. Her only eye was open and staring upward. It turned to look at Ailene when she rushed up.

"Lady Cameron," she croaked, "I've paid a heavy price for stealing your silver."

Bloody Christ, it was Màiri.

"I'm sorry, dear. I never should have sent you away. I'll never forgive myself," she cried, tears pouring from her eyes. "We've been searching for you ever since."

"I've been in hell. No one could have found me there. It was my own fault, for stealing. The lady said you cared for my family, sent a doctor for my brother. Is it true?" She rasped.

"A woman did this to you?" Ailene gasped.

"Nay, a devil of a man. The lady helped me escape. Is it true you helped my family?"

"Aye. I felt bad for sending you away, worse when we couldn't find you. I didn't want them to suffer for my mistakes. They're well taken care of."

"Thank you, Lady Cameron. I'll hold you in my heart."

"I've got some tea for you; it may help ease your pain."

"There's no need. I feel Death coming for me. His presence looms in the corner of my eye," she whispered, "just out of my sight, but I know he's there."

"Who did this to you? What monster lurks in the moors of Scotland?" Ailene asked.

"Blackthorne. It was Blackthorne did for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye, I stopped at Blackthorne Manor, seeking work on my way home. He spoke to me, asked who I was and where I'm from. As soon as he heard I worked here, he had his men take me prisoner and I've suffered the tortures of the damned since."

"What did he want? Why you?"

"Could I get a bit of cold water? My throat is raw from screaming."

"Of course, dear. I'll get it right away."

Ailene got up and dipped a cup of water from the covered crock. She brought it back and lifted her head to help her drink. "Small sips, Màiri."

After drinking a few sips of water, Màiri said, "He wanted to know all about each one of you. Every secret; everything I knew of the Keep and it's defenses. He asked the same questions a hundred different ways, over and over. I told him all I knew, started to make stuff up so he'd stop, but he knew whenever I lied. He'd punish me worse for lying."

"Blackthorne did all this to make you talk? Why not tell him everything? What difference would it make? You know nothing of importance," Ailene said.

"He didn't do this to make me talk, Lady Cameron. He did it because he likes it. He loves to hear people scream. He said it's the most beautiful music in the world. Never, ever let this man get hold of you. He will do far worse to you than he ever did to me. He hates the Camerons with a burning passion, the women especially."

"Why? What did we ever do to him to earn such hatred?"

"I don't know. There's one more thing you should know." Màiri put her maimed hand on Ailene's arm. "He murdered Jamison. Had him slowly poisoned over the course of a year to make it appear like an illness. He bragged of it as he cut and burned me. I think it was given to him in his evening milk before he retired."

"The cook?"

"Nay. It was a man he spoke of, someone now dead at Blackthorne's hand. He crowed he leaves no witnesses to ever speak of his deeds. I'm lucky to have escaped."

"You say a woman helped you escape? Do you know who?" Ailene asked

"Aye, a woman. Don't know who she was, never saw her before. May have had red hair, though hard to see in the dark. I'd like to sleep now. I'm so tired."

"Of course. I'm sorry to ask so many questions. Go to sleep. I or one of the brothers will look after you while you rest."

Màiri closed her eye and settled into an uneasy sleep. Ailene got up and started pacing the kitchen again. Stuart and all the Cameron's would need to be told as soon as they woke. She was unsure what could be done about this, but knew something had to be done. Blackthorne could not get away with this. He could not; and she would find some way to stop him. No matter how rich and powerful he was or who his friends were, there had to be a way.

Màiri seemed to be resting easier now; she wasn't stirring as she did before. In fact, she didn't seem to be moving at all. Her chest wasn't rising and falling at all. Ailene rushed over to her, putting her ears next to her lips to see if she could hear a breath, then on her ruined chest to see if she could detect a heart beat. Nothing. She shook her shoulders and her body was totally limp, almost boneless. Màiri had been right; Death had been waiting nearby. She gently and reverently covered her face with the cloak, laid her head down on the still form and burst into tears, sobbing so hard the sleeping guard woke up.

He got to his feet and crept up to see the poor girl's face covered and Lady Cameron crying unconsolably.

"You did the best you could, milady. I'm surprised she was alive at all." He patted her shoulder.

Ailene turned to him and clung to his waist, her head on his stomach, sobbing wildly.

"It's my fault," she said. "I'm to blame for this. I sent Màiri away."

He didn't know what to do. Stuart Cameron's wife was hugging him fiercely, her head at his waist. He didn't know what to do with his hands. Should he pat her head? Hug her back? What? What if the Cameron's entered the kitchen now? The cook was sure to come and start cooking for breakfast soon. If she should see Lady Cameron with her head at his waist, what would she think? There had to be some way this could look better than it did. He started to kneel. At least if her head were at the level of his shoulders, it would look better than it did now. By kneeling, he forced her to release her hold on his waist. She moved her arms to his shoulders where she continued to hug him, crying in misery, her head on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault," he said. "Not unless it was you tortured the poor lass. We all know you regretted your decision, sent people out looking for her, cared for her family. Lord Stuart was right. Blame the bastard who did this to her. They're the ones should pay."

And pay he would. If it was the last thing she ever did in her life, she'd see Blackthorne die like the animal he was.

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