Free Highland Persuasion (The MacLomain Series- Early Years) by Sky Purington Page A

shrugged. “I’ll know better once I see the location.”
    “How many weapons do we have?” she asked.
    “Two claymores, two daggers, and one small knife.” Alexander winked.
    Naturally, he’d known about her extra blade all along. She nodded. “’Tis always the smallest blade that saves the day.”
    He nodded his head in return. “Aye.”
    Shamus looked between them with a small smile on his face but said nothing.
    While she knew this a good time to let silence reign, Iosbail also thought it a good time to learn more, to try to reconnect. “So Shamus, how exactly was it that you saved Alexander.”
    A wide smile broke over the Irishman’s face. “I didnae travel back exactly where I meant to.”
    “And where was that?”
    “To you of course!” Shamus shook his head. “But as it turned out, you didnae keep to Scotland as I thought you would.”
    Intrigued, she asked, “And why did you think I would keep to Scotland?”
    Alexander chuckled, “North, lass. North!”
    “Why north?”
    Shamus took all the skinned birds and put them on a crudely constructed spit over the fire. “As I recall, you loved the north of Eire. To my mind it made perfect sense that you’d keep north in the new land.”
    She didn’t miss the wince Shamus had made. His wound was hurting him. When he sat back she went to him and sniffed. There was no need to look at the arrow wound to know infection was setting in. “I need to redress this.”
    Shamus winced, sat back and nodded. She looked at Alexander. “Rip a piece off one of the robes. Any chance you brought whiskey?”
    When Alexander shook his head she frowned. “Then wet the cloth and bring it here. I need to look at this.”
    The minute she removed the bandage she saw, as suspected, that her poultice wasn’t working. She cast her glance between the men. “Why did you not use your magic to heal this when you could?”
    “We’ve not the magic to do such.” Shamus shifted, uncomfortable. “Besides, ‘twill be just fine. Needs a few days is all.”
    As she took the damp cloth from Alexander she shot him a look that said the wound would not be fine in a few days. Attention back on Shamus, she patted the wound and said, “You’ve not the power of healing?”
    “Nay, lass . 'Tis rare."
    Frustrated, she said, “I’ve got to set the burn to it. For shame I didnae earlier.”
    Shamus shook his head, green eyes charming. “You had not the mind about you when this all started.”
    Iosbail breathed through her nose. “But you two did. If not for shame on me then shame on you.”
    “One of the daggers,” she said to Alexander. “Hold it over the flame.”
    But he was already doing such, a grim expression on his face.
    With a heavy sigh, Shamus shook his head. “’Tis a terrible thing I’ve not a dram right now.”
    “Well you dinnae,” she declared. “Again, no fault of your own!”
    Before he could respond she reached over, grabbed the dagger and set the dull side of the blade against the wound. The Irishman didn’t pull away but cried out through clenched teeth. While the metal seared his skin she leaned in close and whispered, “May the strength of Eire be with ye, laddie.”
    His bleak eyes met hers and he nodded.
    Iosbail held the blade true until the scent of burning flesh met her nostrils then a good time after. Once satisfied she handed the blade back to Alexander never losing eye contact with Shamus. “How do ye? Is the pain more bearable now?”
They all knew the pain he felt now was far worse. Shamus jut forward his jaw and nodded.
    “Good then.” Iosbail received some cooked bird from Alexander and waited patiently. Once she knew her fellow Irishman well enough to eat, she held the meat to his mouth. “Time now for strength. May ye forgive me for not having done this properly from the beginning. ”
    Lightning fast, Shamus’s hand came around her wrist, his eyes determined. “We’re all a victim of our circumstances. Ye’ve done me well,