The Healer's Apprentice

We lived on the hill overlooking the loch. As a child, I would sit and watch the sunlight on the water. The men would look the other way, watching for invaders. There were some when I was about two years old, but our warriors soon saw them off and they didn't come back. My father maintained the watches, though, just in case.

My sisters and I much preferred to look at what they were defending; the loch, the forest, the fields and the animals. We made daisy chains, Canna, Rona and I. I treasure that memory, for Canna caught a fever and died during her seventh winter. The healer did all she could, but it wasn't enough. She told our mother that Canna had been loaned to us for a short time only.

As a young man, my father had sailed the seas. That was how we got our names. There are islands far across the water called Canna and Rona and one called Iona, for which I was named. My father visited all of them, but I doubt I ever will. Tales of kidnappers, marauders and these new arrivals called Romans, is enough to make anyone sensible stay at home.

I always loved animals. I always wanted a dog, but Father said only boys and men had dogs. I had to be content with playing with my brother's dog, a huge, shaggy beast he named Fang. 

It wasn't only the dogs. I loved the sheep and goats, too. I had names for them all and would cry when one was slaughtered. I used to try to sneak in to watch the lambs being born, but I was always sent away, at least, until I was ten, when I was deemed old enough to know about birthing and I became useful, helping to bring water.

It was Duncan's second son Euan who'd been charged with that task, but he seemed to appreciate my help. He'd talk to me when the other boys ignored me or sent me away. He didn't laugh at my names for the beasts, and even used them himself; he would say to me, "Briar will have a lamb next spring," or "Holly has an infected foot, but the healer put a poultice on it and she will be all right."

Euan was promised to my sister, Rona - they were to be married when she was fifteen. He would be my brother-in-law, one of the family. Perhaps that was why he was always kind to me, and didn't mind when my small face peered over the fence, watching him with the animals.

Rona wasn't kind to him. She would tease him by flashing her ankle at him, pretending she wanted to kiss him and then running away. I thought she was being mean, but Mother said that was how people behaved when they were older. She said Euan probably enjoyed it. Yet when I watched him watching her flounce back to our hut, it didn't look that way to me.

I was twelve when rumours began to fly that there was a clan from the north that wanted our land. Most remembered a bedraggled stranger we had helped, fed and sent on his way. We wondered now if he had been a spy. We sent out spies of our own, Duncan's older son Adair and a couple of others.

Euan taught me how to put the poultice on Holly's foot. I didn't mind when he watched me do it, but when Morag the healer came and watched me, I felt uncomfortable. She knew the healing arts so well, and would surely think ill of my fumblings. Once, she stepped in to show me the right way to rub in the salve, but usually, she just watched and made me nervous. Until one day, she said, when I had finished, "Well done! Perhaps we have a future healer in you, Iona."

I felt about ten feet tall. I could tell Euan was impressed, too, by the way he smiled at me. It occurred to me how odd it was that I could read his moods, but Rona could not.

My good mood did not last, as we heard shouting that Adair had returned, but with only one of his companions. Euan vaulted over the fence, dropping the piece of wood he'd been whittling and followed his brother into their hut. I caught a fleeting glimpse of Adair. There was blood running down his arm. Morag came running to take care of Gregor, who could barely walk.

I longed to know what Duncan and his sons were discussing but knew no women, let alone a girl like me, would be admitted to their conclave. I knew as well as anyone, when Duncan sent for the chief warriors, that the news was not good. Gloom descended on the village. People poked their fires listlessly, waiting to hear news from Duncan.

"There's going to be a war," Rona paced up and down. "I just know it! Euan may have to go and fight, he could be hurt, even killed! Our brothers will have to go too, and Father! I can't bear it! If they lose, the enemy will come here and kill us all, or rape us! I don't want a Northern Barbarian child in my belly!"

"That's enough of that kind of talk!" my mother snapped.

I knew well enough where babies came from, but my little brother Eigg probably didn't, yet. I was more concerned about being killed than raped. I was still a child, not old enough to be promised to anyone so I didn't think I would be raped.

The fact the barbarians might kill our sheep and goats without observing the proper rituals was more of a concern to me.

My chores were all done, so I had nothing to do but wait for news. I went outside. I stood in front of the hut in the damp autumn air, smelling the smoke from the cooking fires. My hand went to the pocket of my tunic. When Euan had rushed off, he'd dropped the wood he'd been whittling and I'd picked it up, intending to give it back to him. I hadn't had the chance, yet.

It felt to me as if I was on the verge of something big and significant. "What can I do?" I asked no-one in particular. "How can I help?"There was no answer that I could discern.

I stepped over the dying fire and started walking. I didn't think about where I was going, just let my legs carry me where they would. I walked until a splash of colour caught my eye. It was a flower, growing under a tree. I recognised it as one Morag used to use for some of her remedies.

Here was a way I could be useful. Perhaps this was my answer. Didn't Morag say that when you asked the gods a question, the answer didn't always come at once? Sometimes it was delayed. Adair and Gregor had both been hurt, so Morag would need more remedies.

I picked the flower, and made my way to her hut. Morag's hut stood a little apart from the rest. She had clay pots full of fragrant herbs outside and a cauldron over her fire bubbling with more sweet smelling concoctions. Morag scared me a little - she seemed wild and fierce, and it was a bad idea to upset her. At the same time, she was gentleness itself to anyone who was sick or injured. It fascinated me to watch her work, but I had to be careful. She'd snap at me like an angry wolf if I got in her way. The times she would look up and smile and explain to me what she was doing made up for that. I hoped she'd be pleased with me for bringing the flower. If she gave me the job of picking her herbs for her, it meant the gods had answered me.

I hovered in the doorway of Morag's hut, wondering whether to go in, or call out. Would she think I was intruding and shout at me?

I jumped a little when I heard a cry of pain coming from inside. A man. She had a patient. That made me even more unsure what to do.

"That's the worst of it over, child," I heard Morag say.

"I think not," her patient replied. I recognised his voice now - it was Gregor. "We shall need every man to fight off this Northern Army and I could suffer more when I go to meet them."

"I'm afraid, Gregor, that you will not be going to meet anybody, not with that leg. You can have no part in this war."

I shrank back at the sound of Gregor weeping. By now, my eyes had adjusted to the dim light inside the hut and I could make out the two of them. Gregor lay on Morag's bed, his leg elevated.

I knew then I should go. Gregor would not want a girl like me to see him so helpless and to know he wouldn't be going to fight. Morag would be angry with me for eavesdropping. I shouldn't be here. I'd misheard the gods, then. I turned to go.

It was too late. "Iona," Morag called. "Come here."

Sure I was in for a scolding, I turned and crept inside.

"I've been expecting you, child. Come on in, don't be afraid. I'm going to show you how to mix up something to ease pain."

How could she be expecting me when I hadn't even known myself I was going to come here? I decided she'd said that to make Gregor feel better about me being there.

Instead of a fraught afternoon waiting for bad news and arguing with Rona, I spent a useful one, helping Morag make her remedies. She talked me through each step, and I was totally absorbed by it, as well as her stories of olden times. She seemed much less fierce, and I wondered why I'd ever been afraid of her at all.

The sun was setting when I left. Gregor was sleeping peacefully by then as a result of the mixture we'd made. He was without doubt the only one who would sleep peacefully that night.

My mind was full of all the things I'd learned. I could imagine being an assistant to Morag some day. It was the first time I'd really thought what my adult life might be like. I wouldn't be a child forever.

Rona had been earmarked for marriage almost from birth. She would marry Duncan's second son. It was less clear what would happen to me. There wasn't an obvious candidate for me to be married off to and in any case, since Canna died, I think they were waiting to be sure I would grow up before making plans for me. My greatest fear was that they'd look outside the village for a match and I'd have to go a long way away. If I became indispensable to Morag, I'd have to stay here, surely?

Marriage didn't interest me the way it did Rona. It was all about kissing and flirting and adults treating each other like playthings. It seemed rather pointless at best and dangerous at worst. Marriage meant children, usually, and I'd heard of several women who'd died birthing them.

Helping Euan with the animals or Morag with the healing was much more to my taste than risking my life to have a baby on my hip.

I was snapped out of my reverie by shouts and running feet. Duncan had emerged from his hut. He looked tired and drawn. His sons were with him. Adair tried to hide how much pain he was in from his wounded shoulder. Most people were fooled but not me, and not Morag. She would make sure he went to her to have it looked at as soon as this was over. She'd probably give him some of the remedy I'd made. That thought made me feel proud.

Euan stood there, too. I fingered his carving and considered going over to give it back to him, but his jaw was set with a grim look I'd never seen on him before. I hung back.

Once the villagers were gathered, Duncan addressed us all.

"My son has returned with grave news," he said. "There is, as we feared, an army amassing in the north who want to come and take our land. They have already killed one son of this village and injured two more. It is my decision that we gather an army of our own and go to meet them. Their army is strong, but so is ours and they will not be expecting us to come to them. I believe we will prevail. We leave in three days."

Every man over thirteen was called into service with only a few of the older men staying behind to defend the village. We had three days to come to terms with the possibility our fathers, brothers and sons might not come back.

Rona and Euan stopped teasing each other and spent their time talking seriously under the oak. I had no chance to speak to Euan alone and give him the carving back. I didn't want to do that in front of Rona. It seemed I was going to be called on to help with the animals and Euan was charged with explaining what my duties would be - but Rona was always there, moping. There was little time to teach me about the animals as there was constant battle practice for the men who were going, as well.

Rona and I would watch and we'd both wince if Euan got hit. After a while, I could no longer bear to watch, and took myself off to Morag, guessing, rightly, that she'd appreciate help in making up remedies for the soldiers to put in their packs.

"I knew the gods would send someone to help me at this difficult time," Morag said as we worked side by side. "I knew someone would be drawn to me. When I saw you dressing that sheep's foot, I had a feeling it might be you. It's not often I'm wrong."

After three days, they left. Most of the men of the village, on horseback. Wives clung to their husbands, sisters to brothers, mothers to sons. We knew some would never return. Rona clung to Euan. "Look after Spike for me," I heard him say to her.

Spike was Euan's dog, a beautiful animal with white fur and blue eyes who rarely left his master's side.

"You want me to look after your dog?" Rona wrinkled her nose. I'd always known Rona wasn't as drawn to the animals as I was, but this was her future husband's dog, and a beautiful, sweet-natured dog at that. "I've never had a dog. I don't know how to look after one," Rona said.

"I'll help you," I said.

Euan nodded curtly to me. I wondered if he knew that while he was gone, Rona wouldn't so much as look at his dog. It would be me who would walk him, feed him, groom him and let him snuggle up to me when he missed his master.

Weeks passed. Those of us left behind had no idea how far away the Barbarian army had been, how long it might take to defeat them. We ached for news, but none came. Neither, thankfully, did the Barbarians.

With most of the men away, Morag took on the leading of the rituals and prayers for the safety of our men and our land. I prayed for my father and my brothers, and for Euan too, since he was virtually my brother, and Spike couldn't say the words for himself.

Weeks turned to months. Gregor was learning to walk again. I had despaired that my sister Rona had any heart at all when she refused to look after her fiance's dog, but revised my opinion when I saw her helping Gregor with his walking. She held his arm as he took his first halting steps and made him laugh.

"It looks as if she'd rather snuggle up to Gregor at night than Euan's dog," my little brother Eigg sneered one day. I cuffed him on the ear and told him to mind his own business, but after that I couldn't help noticing how she treated him in exactly the same way she did Euan, teasing and flirting.

The other thing which happened during those months was that I woke one morning with a severe cramp in my gut. I tried to work out what I could have eaten to cause me such agony, but I couldn't think of anything. Bad food made one vomit, and I didn't feel sick. When I got up, I realised I was bleeding between my legs.

Was this what had happened to Canna? Was I not destined to be a healer after all, but to die horribly as my blood ebbed out of me? I started to cry. Spike whined and put his head in my lap. Who would look after him if I died?

"What's the matter with you?" Rona grumbled from her sleeping mat.

I wanted to blurt out, "I'm sick, I might be dying," but Rona had been unwell, too. She could barely keep any food down these days. It had gone on too long to be bad food.

Our mother came in and saw me looking at the blood on my hand. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked. "Where did the blood come from?"

Blushing, I pointed between my legs. "I thought as much," Mother said. "It's nothing to be afraid of, Iona - it means you're a woman now. It's your monthly flow. Dry your tears - this is something to celebrate."

"Lucky you," Rona muttered. I had no idea what she meant.

At least I knew I wasn't dying.

"What about you, Rona?" Mother asked my sister, sharply. "Have you started bleeding yet?"

Rona shook her head miserably. I clutched my belly as the pain returned. "Does it always hurt?" I asked.

"It often does," my mother said, "but getting up and moving around usually helps. Also, you can ask Morag for something to relieve it. You had better both go. It's time Rona faced up to what's probably causing her sickness." Rona hauled herself out of bed and dressed, sniffling.

As we crossed the village, I tried to cheer my sister up. "Perhaps today we'll get some news of the menfolk," I said. "They might even come back in time for Midsummer and you and Euan can get married just like you planned."

My words didn't have the effect I'd expected. Instead, Rona burst into tears. "He'll never marry me now," she said.

I shuddered as I realised what was happening. Rona was the one who was sick and dying. She must believe she wouldn't live until Midsummer and her wedding to Euan.

"Morag can cure many sicknesses," I said. "She will be able to help. She will get rid of this." I had every confidence in my mentor.

"No," Rona said. "She won't. Life is sacred, she says."

Her words puzzled me. If life was sacred, she'd do all she could to save my sister, wouldn't she? Rona was making no sense. Her sickness must be making her delirious.

Morag smiled when I told her what I needed. She had a potion already prepared, and gave it to me. She turned to Rona with a stern look on her face. "Still nothing? And the sickness is worse?" Rona nodded. Morag reached up onto a shelf behind her and took down a clay pot. She made Rona swallow a spoonful of an evil-looking medicine. "That should settle your stomach," she said. "Now go. Iona, do you feel well enough to help me today?"

The potion she'd given me was helping already, so I nodded. She set me to work grinding herbs as Rona left us. "Will Rona die?" I asked, fearing what the answer would be.

"I have no reason to believe she will," Morag said. She was grinding herbs too and didn't look up from her pestle.

"She doesn't think she will live to marry Euan at Midsummer."

"She said that?"

"No - she just said he would never marry her now."

"That is entirely possible," Morag said, "but there is no reason to believe she will die."

"She is very sick."

"Actually, she is no more sick than you. I take it neither Rona nor your mother has told you what she suffers from?"

"No."

"Then it is not for me to tell you, but be reassured. She is not dying."

I was reassured, but still mystified. I knew Morag would tell me no more, so I got on with my work.

After a while, an old woman I knew slightly came in. Her husband hadn't gone to war because he'd been ill for some time. "I cannot wake him up," she cried to Morag. "Please come and look at him."

Morag nodded to her and turned to me. "I need to go. You stay here, carry on with what you're doing. I'll be back as soon as I can."

It felt good to be trusted to be alone in Morag's hut. I began to hum as I worked. After a while, a shadow fell in the doorway. At first I thought it would be Morag returning, but it was Sybil, who lived two huts away from Morag. Her ninth child was just beginning to show. "Is Morag here?" she asked.

"She's had to go out," I said. "She said she wouldn't be long."

"Oh. You may be able to help me, though. I know what I need and where Morag keeps it." It seemed Morag wasn't the only one willing to trust me. "The baby makes me sick," she explained. "Morag has a remedy for that. You see the clay pot up there?" She pointed to the same clay pot Morag had used for Rona. "She usually gives me a spoonful of that."

That was when I knew what was the matter with my sister. "Rona's with child, isn't she?" I asked Morag when she returned.

"Yes, Iona, she is."

"Won't Euan be happy about that? He'd want his wife to have children, wouldn't he?"

Morag looked at me. I could tell she was figuring out just how much to tell me. "Iona," she said, at last. "How long have our men been gone, now?"

I counted on my fingers. "Five moons," I answered.

"Rona has been with child for just two," Morag said.

I felt stupid. I should have worked it out. Even young Eigg had seen what I had missed with his comments about Rona and Gregor.

When I got home, I flared at my sister. "How could you, Rona? How could you do that with Gregor when you were promised to Euan?"

She regarded me levelly. "It's looking more and more like they won't be coming back. I didn't want my first time to be at the end of a Barbarian's spear. And Gregor is so handsome..."

"But Euan..." I remembered how hurt he'd looked when she used to toss her head and run away from him. How would he feel about this?

"Shut up, Iona, you're too young to understand," Rona snapped and walked away.

My mother had said I was a woman now, but I realised I had no more idea about life than a newborn babe.

For the first time I could remember, my family were at odds with each other. Mother thought Rona should marry Gregor as soon as possible; Grandfather was adamant that the agreement with Duncan should not be broken without his knowledge.

There was also the issue, now, of what to do with me. Now I was a woman, they needed to start thinking about finding me a husband, but with all the young men and their fathers away fighting there wasn't much that could be done. I was too busy helping Morag to think about marriage, but when I heard my mother talking about it to her father, I became preoccupied. Who would they choose for me? What if that young man did not return from the war? There would be a shortage of young men, so would they marry me off to someone as old as my grandfather, or send me away? Could I still be a healer if I was married? I knew Morag had no husband, but I didn't know if being single was a requirement for being a healer.

One day, I plucked up the courage to ask her.

She laughed, a deep, throaty laugh. "I had a husband, once, before you were born. He died of a fever. I never loved anyone else enough to marry them. Anyone can study the healing arts, married or not - although often once a woman is married, other things often become more important. It depends on your husband, too. If he is willing for you to study the healing arts, you can do so."

"My mother is talking about marriage for me," I said.

"I thought she might," Morag said.

"I'm afraid she might send me away if there are no suitable young men after the war."

"Would you like me to read the runes for you? Would you like to know your destiny?"

I hesitated. As a child I had often wished I could have a reading but had always been told, "readings are not for children".

"You are a woman, now, Iona. You have as much right to know your destiny as anyone else."

"And if I am to be sent away?"

"Best to know, so you can get used to the idea," Morag said, reaching for her runes. "Sit."

I sat opposite her as she spread the runes on the table. I wondered if one day, she might teach me the art of reading runes, as well. I was also terrified about learning what was to become of me.

"Well, well, well," Morag said, peering at the stones. They looked like just a pile of pebbles to me.

"What do you see?" I whispered.

"Do you want to marry?" Morag asked me.

"I don't know," I replied. "It depends. If I can marry a good man and learn to love him, yes. But some women have cruel husbands."

"Iona, the stones tell me you will marry a great chieftain. You will be the one who supports him through difficult times. You will love him and he will love you."

The good news was that I would have a husband I loved. The bad news - the only chieftains I knew were married already. Adair, who would take Duncan's place one day, already had a wife. So that meant I would be sent away to a place I'd never seen to marry a man I'd never met. I would never meet Rona's child, or see my family again. At least I knew I'd grow to love the man.

"Will I be happy?" I asked, dreading Morag saying no.

"You will," she said. "You and this man have loved each other in many lifetimes, and will love each other in many more. You are two halves of the same broken cup."

"Do they stones tell you his name?" I asked.

"They are rarely so specific," Morag said. "The important thing is the love you share, not his name."

"What about Rona?" I asked. "Will she marry Euan?"

"No," Morag said. "She will not."

I wanted to ask then what would become of Euan. Did it mean he wasn't coming back? I could hardly bear to think of that. He was like a brother to me. Or did it mean he would be so angry and hurt by Rona's unfaithfulness that he'd cast her aside? He was going to be so hurt - perhaps it would be better if he didn't come back, and went to his eternal rest believing she still loved him. I felt a wet tongue licking my fingers and instantly regretted that thought. If I was to be sent away, who would look after Spike if Euan had to go away again?

"Rona will marry Gregor and bear him many fine sons. They will be happy," Morag said. "Do you have any further questions for the stones?"

I bit my lip. I wanted to know if Euan would find happiness, but didn't dare ask. "No," I said.

Morag looked at me sharply, as if she knew I'd lied, but she didn't press me. 

"There is one more thing," she said. "The happiness I foresee for you is conditional. You must be able to forgive a mistake born of grief and anger. If you cannot, you will lose it."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You will understand when the time comes," Morag said. "Now, there is work to do." She scooped up her runes and put them back in the pouch.

Rona's child was starting to show, so even though the men weren't back, my mother won her argument and Rona and Gregor were to be married at Midsummer. The day she was supposed to marry Euan. Something about that felt wrong to me, but weaving garlands for the wedding put the war out of our minds for a while at least.

It was to be Rona's day, but it was a significant one for me, too. I was to be my sister's attendant and it would be the first time I would appear in public dressed as a woman and with my hair dressed in an adult style. Spike lay indolently in the corner watching while my mother fussed over my hair and my dress.

"Oh, my, Iona, you are truly a woman now. You are so like your sister. We shall have to be careful Gregor doesn't marry you by mistake."

I wrinkled my nose. "I'll soon stop him if he tries," I said.

At that moment, Rona walked in and stared at me. "My," she said. "I had no idea my scruffy little sister would scrub up so well."

I couldn't see for myself what I looked like. The only way for me to see would be to go down to the loch and look at my reflection in the water - but I doubted Mother or Rona would allow me to do that in case I dirtied the dress in the mud, or caught it on briars.

As I was thinking this, Spike stood up, whining. He went to the gate and scrabbled at it. I wonder if he'd picked up my thoughts and hoped for a splash in the cool water.

"What is wrong with that dog?" Rona asked.

"He wants to go out," Mother said.

Yes, I thought. He does. Badly. The reason why hit me at the same instant that the young lad charged with keeping watch came running down the hill, waving his arms and shouting. The men were back. Euan was back. Spike knew that before any of us.

We watched them ride into the village. They were not quite the proud band who had ridden off months before. Duncan appeared to be remaining upright by willpower alone. My father and brothers were there, so was Euan, but many men and boys I'd known since childhood were not. There were cries of joy from the women who saw their menfolk and wails of anguish from those who did not. I couldn't see Adair in the group.

Euan was as battle worn as any of them, but when his eyes lit up with love as his dog bounded out to greet him, I could see that with rest and a good meal, he would soon be his old self again. My heart went out to him, though, knowing there was still one more wound to come for him.

His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for my sister. She alone hadn't come rushing to meet them. Her condition would have been immediately obvious and she had stayed in the hut. Euan's eyes met mine. "Rona?" he said.

So I did look like her. So much so it had fooled Euan. "No," I said. "It's me, Iona."

He stared at me. "So it is," he said. He smiled. "You've grown up. And I see you took good care of my dog."

To my shame, I blushed. I'd never seen myself as one who went red every time a young man spoke to me. Perhaps that was part of being a woman.

"Where is Rona?" Euan asked.

"She is in our hut," my mother stepped up. "She needs to speak with you in private."

Meanwhile Duncan had dismounted and stood ready to address us all.

"You may think us a bedraggled and defeated army," he said, "but trust me, the northern barbarians are looking much worse. We routed them. They are not longer a threat. Our land is safe!"

There were cheers from the crowd.

"Our victory was not without cost. You will notice several are missing. My own son, Adair, died valiantly in battle. Tonight, we will honour our fallen."

Adair's wife wailed. She was a widow now, and Adair hadn't managed to get her with child before he went. She had nothing. She turned and fled. Before sunset, she had drowned herself in the lake.

The loss of Adair and his wife was the blight on the victory. They left a hole in everyone's life. Duncan had groomed his eldest son to take his place as Chieftain someday. No wonder Duncan seemed close to collapse.

Morag caught my eye, and her look was an unspoken message. I was needed. I ran back to our hut to change. I saw Rona and Euan talking outside, but I had no time to think about them.

We might have won, but there were a number of injuries which needed treatment. Some had festered and one man would even lose his foot before sunrise. It would be a long, hard night for Morag and I.

It was almost dawn before she told me to go home and sleep. Not that I could. I was exhausted, but my mind was so active, I knew sleep would elude me. I needed to wind down before I could rest.

The gentle lapping of the waters of the loch, the calls of the birds and the buzzing insects never failed to calm me, so I went there, first. I hoped the tranquility there would banish from my mind the screams of that young man as we sawed through the bones of his leg.

As I picked my way to the shore, I sensed rather than saw that I wasn't alone. I froze in my tracks as I heard the rustling of the long grasses behind me. I was knocked to my knees; the weight of a warm body held me down against the earth; a wet tongue joyously licked my face. Spike!

I laughed and tickled him behind his ears. What was he doing here?

My question was answered when I saw Euan. He sat on the bank, wrapped in his cloak, staring out over the waters. I guessed he'd been sitting there like that all night. My heart went out to him. Silently, I went and sat beside him. He didn't look at me. He picked up a stone and threw it with great force into the loch. Ripples spread across the otherwise calm water.

He was hurting. I hated to see it, and hated even more that this was a kind of hurt I knew no remedy for.

"I'm sorry," I said. He didn't answer. He stood up and walked away. Now it was my turn to be hurt. We'd been friends once; he'd been almost like a brother.

I followed him. "I really am sorry, Euan," I said. "Won't you talk to me?"

He turned to face me. It was difficult, in the darkness before dawn to read his face, but I could sense fury emanating from him. "Stop taunting me!" he growled.

"I'm not," I said. "I really am sorry all this happened." I laid my hand on his arm. He brushed it away as if it were a troublesome insect.

Perhaps I should have left it there, left him to his grieving, but I didn't. He was my friend, and I wanted him to know I cared.

"Euan, please," I said, reaching out to touch him again.

"Don't touch me! Don't speak to me!" That was when he struck me. Hard. Twice. The force of his blows sent me reeling. I stumbled and fell into the grass, hot tears spilling from my eyes. I didn't know if I cried because of the physical pain, or because my old friend had rejected me.

Spike came over and licked my face for a few seconds before Euan curtly called him to heel.

I lay there until the sun came up, numb, betrayed. Finally, I stumbled home, hoping no-one would see me. I would have a black eye and a bloody nose, and no plausible story as to how I'd got them.

People might fear the barbarians had come after all and had attacked me.

I recalled hearing about a man who'd been banished from the village for hitting a woman. Hurt as I was by what Euan had done, I didn't want that to happen to him.

I hoped I'd be able to creep into my bed and hide there while I thought up a reason for my injury; but my brother Coll was outside the hut washing himself. He took one look at me and marched me back to Morag. To his credit, he didn't ask what had happened to me.

He did, however, once he'd left me in Morag's safe hands, start up a call for justice for whoever had done this to his sister. I prayed Euan wouldn't confess. Even after this, I didn't wish him ill.

Morag did ask, but by now, I'd thought of a story. "I walked into the branch of a tree," I told her. "It was still dark, I was tired, and I didn't see it."

The look she gave me told me she didn't believe a word of my story, but she was a strong and reassuring presence as she dressed my wounds, bundled me into her own bed and ordered me to sleep.

In spite of everything, I did sleep, and it was late morning before I woke. It took me a few moments to work out where I was, but it came flooding back to me as I heard Morag humming to herself as she worked cleaning her hut. Her bed was hidden from anyone who might come in by a screen, so I couldn't see her, and nobody calling on Morag would know I was there, either.

I let her voice wash over me, thinking that there was time enough to get up and let her know I was awake. I was warm and comfortable right where I was.

Morag abruptly stopped singing. "I wondered when you'd come," she said. "I've been waiting for you." She'd said the same words when I'd come, many months before, holding that single flower. It made sense. If I was going to be married off to a chieftain in a far away village, Morag would need another assistant. She would be expecting the gods to draw someone to her, as they had me.

I blinked back tears of sorrow and envy. It was as it should be, but I would miss Morag so much when I was sent away. I would miss the work, too. It seemed unlikely there would be any place for me in the healer's hut in my new home. They wouldn't trust such work to a newcomer, and in any case, my role there would be as Chieftain's wife, rearing his children.

"So tell me," Morag said. "Where are you hurting?"

I supposed the patient I couldn't see had pointed to a part of his or her body.

"I see," Morag said. "As I thought. You think I have a cure for that?"

"I suspect you don't, but I thought I'd ask, anyway." I knew the voice. It was Euan. I burrowed deeper under the blankets. Even though Morag's bed was hidden behind a screen, I didn't want him to know I was there.

"I may surprise you," Morag said. I heard the scraping of a chair on the floor - I guessed she'd motioned to him to sit. "Talking is the best cure for what ails you. Why don't you tell me about it?"

He hesitated before blurting out, "I've done something unforgivable."

"Nothing is unforgivable," Morag said. "It is within your power to forgive yourself, even if others find it hard to. People often have to make hard decisions in times of war."

"It was nothing to do with the war," he said. "I let my feelings take control of me, and I made a dreadful mistake."

"That happens to all of us at some time or another."

"Perhaps - but this..."

"Is this to do with Rona?" Morag asked gently.

"Yes. I was angry at what she did. I went to the loch to be alone, so I'd not do anything I'd regret. I thought she'd followed me; but my anger was directed at the wrong person. Someone I mistook for Rona in the darkness. Someone who only wanted to help."

"I see," Morag said, her voice even.

"I was going to throw myself in the loch. My dog wouldn't let me."

"Dogs are truly wiser than we are, sometimes."

"You're right. I decided I must return and confess what I did. I expect I'll be banished. I've heard the calls for the person who did this to be banished. It's what I deserve."

"No, Euan. It needn't come to that. I think I know what you are talking about and I would say, if she is willing to forgive an honest mistake, there is no need for such a severe punishment. You've punished yourself enough. Say nothing yet. Go home and rest. Trust me."

I heard him leave, and I heard Morag approach where I lay. I kept my eyes closed, pretending I was asleep and hadn't heard anything.

After a few minutes had passed, I rose. Morag smiled at me and fussed over my face, applying more ointment. "Your eye is still swollen," she told me,"but there's no lasting damage. You'll look as lovely as ever when you marry your chieftain."

"Has my father spoken to you about that?" I asked. It was entirely possible he'd told Morag that I was a bargaining chip and that she was wasting her time teaching me the healing arts.

"No," she said. "He has not. I saw it in the stones, remember, and the time is near. I doubt the thought has even crossed your father's mind yet. He needs to rest after his homecoming first."

"Will you need me today?"

"No, but you should be here tomorrow. Go now and spend time with your family while you still can. Oh, and don't go walking into any more low hanging branches."

"I thought you didn't believe that."

"I don't. But for now, I'm choosing to, and if anyone asks me, I will tell them that is what happened."

Euan had said enough that Morag knew what had really happened. Nobody else did.

My father looked on me with horror when I arrived home. I stuck to my story about the branch and either they started to believe me or knew I'd never tell.

"What does Morag say about that face?" my father asked gruffly.

"She says it will heal and I'll look as good as ever."

"Good, because while I've been gone, you've grown up. It's time we found you a husband, but I doubt anyone would have you with that face. Nevertheless, I have someone in mind for you. When your face heals, we can start the negotiations."

"Where are you sending me?" I asked. "And when?"

"I'm saying nothing yet," he replied.

After the meal, my father left the hut, saying he had important business to discuss. When I went outside to wash I saw him walking on the brow of the hill with Duncan. Were we really safe? If we were, what were they talking about so seriously?

I slept fitfully that night. I could be sent away in a matter of days. I hoped I'd get a chance to tell Euan I understood and forgave him before that happened. I didn't want to leave without knowing I'd made things right with him. I would miss him as much as I missed my family, and I prayed to the gods we'd part as friends.

Also what my future husband would be like. I'd heard some women were married to old, ugly, fat men and they had to endure being pawed by them; or that men were sometimes cruel to their wives. My father had someone in mind, and I was sure Morag's runes had told her more than she'd let on; but no-one was telling me anything. Was that because it was an answer I wouldn't want to hear?

I showed up at Morag's next day, and she put me to work as usual, but I was all fingers and thumbs. I dropped bottles on the floor; I spilled tinctures as I tried to mix them.

"Put it all down," Morag said. "I can see you're in no state for delicate work today."

"Should I go home?" I asked.

"No, child. You need to be here today, even if you don't work. Perhaps while we are waiting, you can tell me what ails you?"

"Waiting for what?" I asked.

"You'll find out when the time is right. Tell me what's wrong."

"My father is going to send me away."

"I very much doubt that, but go on."

"He's going to marry me off. There are so few men here, after the war..."

She smiled. "He has told you you're going away?"

"No, but..."

"Until he spells it out in so many words, don't jump to conclusions," she said.

"You know when the runes told you I'd marry a great chieftain? Did they say if he'd be good to me?"

"Not specifically - but I believe he will. Now, I know you're not up to detailed work, but you need to look busy. How about you sweep the floor?"

I shrugged and picked up the broom. I guessed she'd asked someone to call.

I'd almost finished the floor when he arrived. I almost swept him out of the door with the dust. He stopped dead when he saw me. We stared at each other awkwardly. I couldn't help but notice how he'd grown up, now I saw him up close and in daylight. His shoulders had broadened, he'd grown a few inches. He'd turned into a man while I'd been turning into a woman.

"Euan needs something to help him sleep," Morag said. "I think you can handle that, Iona. I have a call to make."

I watched her walk away. She hadn't mentioned having to go anywhere.

"Iona, I'm so sorry," Euan said as soon as she'd gone. "I would never intend to hurt you. You've grown to look so much like Rona, and in the dark, I thought you were her, taunting me. Not that hitting out like that is excusable, even if you had been her. The fact it was you makes it worse. You're not responsible for what your sister does. One reason I can't sleep is because I can't stop thinking about how I must have hurt you. It was a terrible mistake. A stupid one. Can you forgive me?"

I remembered Morag's prediction that a happy marriage would only happen for me if I was able to forgive. Was this what she'd meant?

"I do forgive you," I said. "Just don't do anything like that ever again."

I could almost see the tension flood out of him. He hugged me. He smelled of leather and musk. I began to feel dizzy, but a pleasant sort of dizzy. He let me go. "I never thanked you for looking after my dog."

"That was a pleasure. I always wanted a dog." I was conscious of him looking at me, and it made me feel flustered, somehow, so I got back to business. "So our quarrel was one reason you can't sleep. What's the other?"

"I miss my brother. It's not the same with Adair gone, and since he had no children when my father dies, I become leader. That was never part of my life plan. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that."

"Duncan seems healthy enough. I should think you have a few years to prepare. Anyway, I think the best leaders are the ones who need to think about what they're doing."

I turned away to look out a remedy, and to hide my blushes. Euan wasn't the only one who'd been stupid. It hadn't occurred to me that with Adair gone, his position would fall to his brother. Normally, he would have married his brother's widow - but she had killed herself. His marriage to Rona had fallen through. I knew what my father had gone to talk to Duncan about. I wasn't going to be sent away.

"You're going to be a very wise healer, one day soon," Euan said.

"I don't know. My father is looking for a husband for me. I don't know if married women can be healers."

"Morag was married once," Euan said. "My mother told me. He died in a hunting accident."

I hardly dared ask. "But would you want a healer for a wife?"

"Only if she was as good as you."

That was exactly what I needed to hear.