Healing the Highlander Read Online Free Page A
Author: Melissa Mayhue
mood, Drew grinned. "Too bad you dinna think to seek yer answer from True Thomas before his death, aye?"
Colin's face stiffened into the strained mask he seemed to wear so often over the last few years. "Whose answers do you think have stolen away my peace if no the ones I received in the Rhymer's home?"
His brother had consulted the infamous Thomas of Erceldoune? Colin had become one surprise after another.
Rumor had it that Thomas the Rhymer had been taken lover by no less than the Faerie Queen herself, giving him the power to see into the future. No doubt about it, he and Colin needed to find time to have a long talk one day, though, clearly, this was not that day.
"Go in safety, Col. I pray you find that which you seek."
"I wish the same for you, my brother."
Drew watched in silence as Colin rode away, puzzled as to his brother's parting comment.
Colin couldn't know. None of them did.
Drew had carefully cultivated the image his family had of him. That they should all see him as a disappointment, a second son who wasted his time in thoughtless pursuit of pleasure was highly preferable to their learning the truth. No one knew of the countless hours he'd spent searching, the painful experiments he'd endured at the hands of alchemists and those who claimed to be healers, or the vile potions and the disgusting plasters he'd tried.
And no one ever would if he had his way of it.
He'd rather a thousand times over see disappointment in the eyes of his family than pity.
With a long breath, Drew swung his stiffened leg over his horse's back, bracing himself for the fresh wave of pain that would hit when his weight shifted to that limb.
As he'd suspected, no amount of mental preparation could overcome the all-encompassing shock of pain. His leg gave way and he stumbled backward, catching himself against the nearest stall.
The wounds he'd received in the battle to rescue his cousin Mairi and his sister Sallie a decade past should have ended his life. But, thanks to his Faerie blood and the amazing potions his cousin had brought from the future, he hadn't died. Not literally, anyway.
No, his heart beat on, his chest expanded and contracted with every breath, and he awoke to greet each empty day. But the muscles that had been carved through continued to wither away as the years passed. Under his skin, his scarred hideous skin, the meat shrank and twisted, contracting into hard painful knots.
Scar tissue, his new sister Ellie called it.
The daily workouts in the lists helped, but forego the exercise for even a day and he paid for the lapse with an overall stiffening and intensified pain. Already, despite his efforts, the once-injured limb was shortening, requiring great concentration on his part to avoid displaying the awkward limping gait he noticed in himself when he tired.
The scars on his body were hideous, but what they kept him from doing was even worse. The constant pain and growing deformity slowed him, robbed him of his speed, his flexibility, his fighting skills.
Though the injuries had spared his life, they'd resulted in his living as only half a man. His dreams of finding glory and seeking happiness had been stripped from him at the tender age of eighteen. Dreams stolen by the deceitful Fae who'd endangered the lives of his sister and cousin.
Fae he hated with every shred of his being. Vile uncaring creatures who'd taken from him all that mattered.
With his body as it was, he couldn't follow the warrior's path as Colin did, as they'd spent their youth planning to do together. Any hopes of a loving wife and family were gone on the edge of the sword that had carved into his flesh. A man such as he had become couldn't support a wife and family. He spent his days working his body to exhaustion or scouring the land seeking miraculous cures which more and more frequently these days he feared did not exist.
In time, he'd be forced to retire to his bed, a useless lump of meat to be cared for by someone else.
A
Colin's face stiffened into the strained mask he seemed to wear so often over the last few years. "Whose answers do you think have stolen away my peace if no the ones I received in the Rhymer's home?"
His brother had consulted the infamous Thomas of Erceldoune? Colin had become one surprise after another.
Rumor had it that Thomas the Rhymer had been taken lover by no less than the Faerie Queen herself, giving him the power to see into the future. No doubt about it, he and Colin needed to find time to have a long talk one day, though, clearly, this was not that day.
"Go in safety, Col. I pray you find that which you seek."
"I wish the same for you, my brother."
Drew watched in silence as Colin rode away, puzzled as to his brother's parting comment.
Colin couldn't know. None of them did.
Drew had carefully cultivated the image his family had of him. That they should all see him as a disappointment, a second son who wasted his time in thoughtless pursuit of pleasure was highly preferable to their learning the truth. No one knew of the countless hours he'd spent searching, the painful experiments he'd endured at the hands of alchemists and those who claimed to be healers, or the vile potions and the disgusting plasters he'd tried.
And no one ever would if he had his way of it.
He'd rather a thousand times over see disappointment in the eyes of his family than pity.
With a long breath, Drew swung his stiffened leg over his horse's back, bracing himself for the fresh wave of pain that would hit when his weight shifted to that limb.
As he'd suspected, no amount of mental preparation could overcome the all-encompassing shock of pain. His leg gave way and he stumbled backward, catching himself against the nearest stall.
The wounds he'd received in the battle to rescue his cousin Mairi and his sister Sallie a decade past should have ended his life. But, thanks to his Faerie blood and the amazing potions his cousin had brought from the future, he hadn't died. Not literally, anyway.
No, his heart beat on, his chest expanded and contracted with every breath, and he awoke to greet each empty day. But the muscles that had been carved through continued to wither away as the years passed. Under his skin, his scarred hideous skin, the meat shrank and twisted, contracting into hard painful knots.
Scar tissue, his new sister Ellie called it.
The daily workouts in the lists helped, but forego the exercise for even a day and he paid for the lapse with an overall stiffening and intensified pain. Already, despite his efforts, the once-injured limb was shortening, requiring great concentration on his part to avoid displaying the awkward limping gait he noticed in himself when he tired.
The scars on his body were hideous, but what they kept him from doing was even worse. The constant pain and growing deformity slowed him, robbed him of his speed, his flexibility, his fighting skills.
Though the injuries had spared his life, they'd resulted in his living as only half a man. His dreams of finding glory and seeking happiness had been stripped from him at the tender age of eighteen. Dreams stolen by the deceitful Fae who'd endangered the lives of his sister and cousin.
Fae he hated with every shred of his being. Vile uncaring creatures who'd taken from him all that mattered.
With his body as it was, he couldn't follow the warrior's path as Colin did, as they'd spent their youth planning to do together. Any hopes of a loving wife and family were gone on the edge of the sword that had carved into his flesh. A man such as he had become couldn't support a wife and family. He spent his days working his body to exhaustion or scouring the land seeking miraculous cures which more and more frequently these days he feared did not exist.
In time, he'd be forced to retire to his bed, a useless lump of meat to be cared for by someone else.
A
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