Page 28 of Duncan

SHAW WATCHED the two women head toward the village, and briefly considered following them there. He had always been fiercely protective of Julianne, but since she had come close to dying during her battle with Derdrui and the Cait Sith he never wished her out of his sight. The thing inside him had just as much affection for and worry over their lady. Yet he knew Julianne had a right to make friends of her own, especially among the women from her time. She could also well defend herself, as her boon allowed her to jump through time and space to another place with only a thought. Another truth reassured him, one he’d discovered upon meeting Mistress Fairburn.

Nicole shall treat my love as she does every innocent: with kindness.

He walked back to the stronghold, and once inside went to the infirmary, where a group of patrollers stood waiting and peered through the entry. Inside he saw Duncan and Nyall standing over a groaning vassal. The scent of his wounds stirred the beast inside Shaw, but only for a moment. It subsided back into slumber, uninterested. Since Julianne had come, the Pritani spirit had become his reluctant ally instead of the nemesis he’d fought for centuries.

Once he was sure he posed no danger to any of them Shaw walked in, but kept his distance from the exam table. “What harmed the lad?”

“The patrol found him in the south glen, near buried in grass and leaves. He’s no’ yet stirred,” Nyall told him.

As Duncan cut open the man’s tunic he exposed several small, triangular-shaped bite marks crusted with dried blood. He then turned the man on his side, and something fell to the floor, which the captain retrieved.

“’Tis a thistle ward.” He held up the carved stone hanging from a torn cord. “One made by the village healer, I reckon. She favors such old charms, only they dinnae work.”

Shaw took the amulet from him, but sensed no enchantment. “Why should he wear such a useless thing?”

“Angalan convinces the men they shall protect them,” the healer said, sounding annoyed. “By such she sells them for a tidy sum from her stall every market day. ’Tis harmless superstition.” He surveyed the unconscious man, and took something from one of his wounds. “Captain, you might send another patrol. Ask them retrace the lad’s steps, and see if he strayed near the water.”

Shaw saw Duncan hold up a small, jagged-edged object. “’Tis a shark’s tooth?”

“Aye.” He handed it to him. “Only no’ an ordinary shark.”

As he studied it the tooth suddenly changed shape and became blunter and hollow-ended, like that of a bairn. “Fack me. Hybrid shifters attacked the lad.”

“Shaw, remain here and question the man when he wakes.” Nyall seized the tooth from him and tossed it into the hearth’s flames before he strode out into the hall. “Send word to the garrison, I want every patroller on duty within the hour. The hybrids likely returned to the sea, but if they roam the island, we must dispatch them…” The captain’s voice trailed off as he left with his men.

Shaw helped Duncan strip the lad, and then watched him inspect his flesh for any other debris.

“The glen, ’tis a league from the bay,” he reminded the healer. “With such wounds, could the lad flee so far?”

“’Tis unlikely.” Duncan went to his shelf and took down a crock, and used the contents to treat the man’s wounds before redressing the vassal in a loose leine and trews. His movements became jerky and stiff, and when he finally finished with the man he sat down heavily on a stool. “Can you send word for his wife?”

“Aye.” He eyed the unconscious man. “The pain you took from him, ’tis bad?”

“No’ so much that I cannae…fack.” Duncan gave him a narrow look. “Shall no one respect my pride again?”

“You’ve suffered for centuries for this clan and our vassals, and of late near every day. No.” He helped the healer to his feet and guided him over to the pallet where he could rest. “I shall fetch Nicole so she may tend to you.”

“Dinnae,” he said with a groan. “She takes on the very wounds of others as well as their suffering, and I fear so many bites shall sorely torment her.”

Shaw sat down on the edge of the pallet. “Why should the ring grant your lady such a boon? So she might perish as she attempts keep the clan alive in the coming battle?”

“She’s no’ my lady. You reckon ’tis her fate?’ Duncan’s pain-filled dark eyes narrowed. “No, you ken more than you’ve said.”

“She doesnae stir my Pritani spirit in the slightest,” Shaw admitted. “When I look upon her, ’tis the same for the beast as when I behold another MacMar. The damned thing regards her as blood-kin, which she’s no’. Never has such happened with a mortal except Julianne.”

“’Tis taken more than a liking to her, then,” the healer said, sounding as if he disapproved.

“’Tisnae that the thing loves the lady.” He tried to think of how to describe it. “Bas, ’tis the spirit of all that ends. It serves such for those mortals deserving; and assures they shallnae find their way back so they may live again in the mortal realm.”

“Then Mistress Fairburn, she’s undeserving of death,” Duncan said before he pressed a hand to his side and groaned.

“Och, no. She’s different,” Shaw chided. “I cannae tell you how, only that she’s no’ like the other ladies. ’Tis as if naught of this world may wound her, even as all does.”

“Speak plainly,” the healer demanded, his tone cross.

He tucked the blanket over him. “I wish that I could, but she fashes me and the beast as well. Now rest and recover, for I daresay that lad, he’s but the first of many that shall need your tending.”

NICOLE THANKED Julianne for spending the afternoon with her, but instead of accepting her invitation to join her and the other women for the evening meal, she decided to first go to her room and change. At least, that was what she told herself as her feet took her in the opposite direction, and stopped outside the closed door of the infirmary.