Page 4 of A Fierce Archer

Ewan shook his head. “The reasons are my own.”

“Why did ye kill Laird Mackenzie?” Keithen asked.

Struck silent, Ewan inhaled deeply, attempting to keep any expression from his face. “Why would I kill him?”

Keithen straightened and leaned forward. “It is said that the men who shot Laird Mackenzie had to have a special talent. The three arrows that fell him were loosed so close together, it was as if the archer had practiced this special archery skill for a long time.”

Silence stretched for several seconds. It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it but, instead, he blew out a hard breath. “I did what ye and the other clan leaders couldn’t. No one would suspect or blame me. A clan war will not come yer way because of it.”

“It was not yer place,” Keithen pronounced. “If anyone should have killed the bastard, it was me.”

“And ye surely would be dead as we speak.”

“It is a miracle I am not.” Keithen was right. He had been captured by the late laird’s son and hung for the killing. However, Clan Ross had arrived just in time to save his life. Keithen’s sister, also an accomplished archer, had pierced the rope with an arrow.

Just then, the healer entered with two maids. One carried a bucket of steaming water, the other a stack of clean linens.

Without preamble, the older man pinned him with a hard look. “Ye lost a lot of blood and are certainly with luck.” Gray hair pulled back into a queue and a pristine tunic, he moved to the bed and lifted the blankets.

The healer motioned the maids closer and instructed one to soak the cloth wrapped around his midsection so it would be easier to remove.

The hot water seeped through Ewan’s bandages with a soothing affect. He wanted to relax but suspected the bandage removal was going to be painful. The ripping off of the bandaging was uncomfortable, but he managed to keep from making too much noise.

As the healer cleaned his wounds, Ewan was shocked at how long the piercing appeared. However, it was healing nicely. His midsection was rewrapped.

“The wound to the back of yer head is what worries me,” the healer explained. “I wish to see what happens when we help ye to sit.”

With Keithen’s assistance, he was helped to sit up and, immediately, the room swayed and his vision blurred.

Closing and opening his eyes to clear his vision, Ewan let out a deep breath to keep from becoming nauseous. Refusing to look at the healer, Ewan concentrated on the wall opposite the bed, but his vision continued to be blurry. “Something is wrong with my eyesight.”

The healer shrugged. “I expect everything will return to normal after ye heal properly.” The man leaned forward and looked into Ewan’s eyes. “They appear fine.”

Keithen waited for the healer to leave before speaking again. “My father did inform me that he wishes ye to return to yer clan.”

The decision was not surprising. Upon learning that he’d been the archer to kill the late Mackenzie, it was imperative Ewan leave. The last thing the Frasers needed at the moment was to be involved in another conflict.

It was doubtful, in Ewan’s mind anyway, that the new Laird Mackenzie wished to battle. The man, however, was no doubt behind the efforts to bring conflict between smaller clans and the Frasers.

Ewan let out a breath and nodded. It was his fault for showing off during the archery competition. When he’d shot three arrows at once, those that were aware of how Laird Mackenzie had been killed immediately suspected he was the assassin.

Could it be that one of the people who’d been at the tournament had purposely attacked and attempted to kill him? It frustrated Ewan not to recall what happened before he was found left for dead.

“Get some rest,” Keithen said and left.

Ewan slid from the bed and pulled clothes from his trunk. At seeing his tunic, neat stitches where a tear had once been caught his attention.

For some reason, Catriona had insisted on being the one to mend his clothes. She’d asked to do it and he’d made sure to bring her an article of clothing weekly. It had become the only time he could see her alone without the lass avoiding him.

Not that he blamed her for being wary. After all, the poor woman had been through a horrific ordeal. There was little doubt in his mind that Catriona was changed for life. Whoever she’d been before he’d met her was forever gone. A pity, as he’d heard she was a lively creature who was quick to smile and pass out advice.

Moving slowly through the pain, he dressed and then stood still for a moment as the room once again swayed when he straightened.

After taking a few shaky steps, Ewan managed to keep from becoming dizzy. Although his vision remained a bit off, he could see well enough to make his way out of the small room he’d been given by the Frasers.

It was time to find out what happened the day he’d been injured. If he heard the exact details from one of the guards, hopefully, it would prod the memory.

“What do ye plan to do?” Broden, asked him when he walked out to the great room and lowered to a bench. “Return north or back to Uist?”