Free An Oath Taken by Diana Cosby Page A

down broke into her somber musings. Pain rolled from his every breath
    She glanced past Deredere and froze. In the cell at the end of the corridor lay her brother.
    Another tormented moan rolled from his lips. Giric jerked, then twisted as if fighting an invisible demon. A wool blanket that had once covered him lay tossed onto the cold stone floor.
    â€œGiric!” Elizabet hurried to follow the healer into the cell.
    The healer shook her head as she knelt beside her brother. “ ’Tis a shame.” With her eyes on Giric, she waved Elizabet forward.
    Trembling, she set the basket on the stone floor. “Will he live?” she asked, wanting to reach out and soothe the man who was everything good in her life.
    The elder shook her head as she withdrew several leather sacks and began measuring small amounts of powdered herbs. “I am unsure.” Once finished, she secured each sack, then returned them to the basket. “He has been ill for days and with each that passes, his condition worsens.”
    Needing to touch him, Elizabet knelt by his shoulder. She took a rag and dampened it with some cool water from her leather pouch, then wiped his brow. Live, damn you!
    Giric jerked against her touch. “Nay! Bloody Sassenach. To your right, Colyne!”
    â€œHold him,” the healer ordered as she fought to pin his arms.
    Desperation seized her. “Stop it!” Elizabet whispered in his ear, tears rolling down her face, stunned that in his delirium he’d mentioned Colyne MacKerran, the Earl of Strathcliff, who’d offered for her hand, but a man she didna love. Her brother shifted, and she focused on him. “I am here now.”
    At her voice Giric settled, and his brow wrinkled into a deep frown. He opened his eyes glazed with pain. “Elizabet?”
    Mary’s will, what had she done? She glanced at the healer, expecting the worst.
    The elder gave a sympathetic tsk then released him, apparently satisfied her patient had calmed down. “ ’Tis naught to worry about, lad. He has mumbled the lass’s name on and off since his arrival.”
    â€œDo you know who she is?” Elizabet asked, fighting for calm.
    The aged woman shrugged. “Nay.”
    That was too close. Nerves slid through her as she watched the healer unwrap his bandages and inspect his wounds. He had several deep cuts on his body, with a nasty gash along his left side.
    â€œ ’Tis probably this wound on his side that did him in,” Deredere said, nodding toward the neatly sewn skin discolored with angry yellows and red. “The injury will have to be drained and repacked daily or the infection will kill him for sure.” After treating the wound the healer rubbed salve on his cuts, then coaxed Giric until he sipped the powdered herbs she had mixed with water.
    His throat worked and his face twisted into a grimace when he swallowed.
    The healer laid his head back on the straw. “There is little more we can do for now.” She gestured to Elizabet. “Cover him up and we will tend to the others.”
    As much as she wished to remain by his side, for now she’d be thankful to have found her brother alive. “I will be back,” she whispered into his ear.
    Giric shifted, but this time he didna speak.
    The rest of their morning treating the wounded passed quickly. The joy of finding so many of her men alive entangled with the fear that they would die before she could set them free.
    Elizabet covered her nerves by asking the healer questions about treating different wounds as they tended to the men. With surprising patience the elder answered each one, explaining the different herbs she used along with the dosage for each.
    As their rounds ended and the healer started to leave, Elizabet stole a quick glance down the far end of the dungeon toward Giric.
    â€œCome lad, we are finished for the day.”
    She hesitated, wanting to return and see her brother one last time