Part 34 (1/2)

Meredith heard the shuffle of feet and waited until she was certain they had gone. She lay under the bed and fought back the tears that threatened to choke her. She must do something. But what?

She pulled herself from her place of concealment and crawled to the other room where Brice lay. The tears that she had been fighting now spilled over, running in little rivers down her cheeks.

Brice. Her strong, angry, giant of a man was dead. She brought her hands to either side of his face and studied his proud, handsome features.

”How wrong I have been about you. You are not some cruel savage. You are a gentle giant, surprisingly fair with me, generous with your friends.”

The tears began anew, and she struggled to hold them back.

”You were even right about Gareth. And I have been so wrong. Gareth is evil incarnate.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she made no move to check them.

”What a fool I have been. If I had not been prevented by fateful circ.u.mstances from marrying Desmond MacKenzie,” she said, pressing her forehead to Brice's,

”I would already be dead, and my land and people would be in the clutches of the cruel Gareth.

”Oh, Brice. I see now that it was because of you that I have been given a chance to discover the awful truth about the MacKenzies.”

The tears came harder now, and she struggled to subdue her emotions.

She felt a tingling at her fingertips and studied Brice's face, so handsome in repose. She thought she saw a flicker of pain cross his face. Impossible. Brice was dead. And then she felt the tingling again. A pulse beat She touched a finger to his lips and thought she felt a slight breath. With a last flicker of hope she pressed her fingers to his throat a second time. Aye. A pulse beat Feeble. Thready. But a pulse beat all the same.

Alive. Brice was alive.

With a little cry she began to cut away the blood-soaked tunic. Tears sprang to her eyes and she quickly blinked them away. There was no time for tears now. There was work to be done. She would stem the flow of blood. She would warm him, with her own body if necessary.

And she would keep him alive until he was strong enough to fight his wounds.

And then, together, they would fight Gareth MacKenzie, the brute who sought to subdue her people and steal her land.

Chapter Eleven

Q^r^ps^Q Oo great was Meredith's determination to save Brice's life, she forced herself to ignore the smell of smoke that crept up the staircase and invaded his chambers.

She added a log to the fire and placed a large kettle of water to heat.

While it came to a boil she cut away Brice's garments and examined his wounds.

From the courtyard below she heard the sound of men being summoned, of horses being readied for travel. The sound of Gareth's voice calling out to his men set her teeth on edge. She forced herself to shut out all sound. For now there was only this room and this man.

She would not leave his side, she vowed, until she was certain he would survive.

And what of the fire that threatened? One glance at the man on the floor told her that she could never drag him to safety. She would remain here and defy even the raging flames to save his life.

She stared down at his bloodied, battered body and felt a tremor of fear. If a giant of a man like Brice could be cut down, could anyone survive?

She thought briefly about the men below who had died in this b.l.o.o.d.y battle. And about the many more who still lay wounded. What of the women and children? Had Gareth and his men terrorized them, brutalized them? Or had they simply searched among them for the one they sought and then left them? She whispered a prayer for their safety, then bent to the task at hand.

There was no time to think about whether or not Brice would be caused further pain by her ministrations. For now, she would be forced to inflict some pain in order to properly care for him.

Tearing a strip of cloth, she dipped it into the rapidly heating water.