Torin grinned, scooped his wife up, tossing her over his shoulder, and rushed to the keep.
* * *
“And your unclesent no word with this Henry?” Iona asked, having joined Flora at the dais.
“Only that Henry arrived there with important news for me and so my uncle sent him here,” Flora said, watching her husband make his way through the Great Hall talking with the Strathearn warriors who had been invited to sup here along with some of the clan’s warriors and Walsh’s men as well.
“Henry talks easily with the men,” Iona said, seeing him in conversation with a couple of mercenaries.
“He seeks to learn things from them. He will be the talk of Edinburgh among his colleagues when he returns and is invited to give talks on his experience in the Highlands.”
“Then his trip will not be completely in vain,” Iona said. “You do realize your husband will never let anyone take you from him, don’t you? He will battle for you if necessary.”
“I, myself, would never let anyone take me from him and I do not want him to battle and chance losing his life. This will be settled civilly, and Henry sent on his way,” Flora said and pushed a tankard away that a servant had sat in front of her on the table.
“No more drink for you?” Iona asked.
Flora patted her stomach. “I cannot put another bit of drink or food in me. I am stuffed.” She pushed the tankard to Iona. “Have it if you’d like.”
Iona took the tankard, enjoying the drink. She licked her lips after several swallows and scrunched her brow.
“Something wrong?” Flora asked.
“The taste,” Iona said, and her eyes went wide as her hand went to her stomach.
“Iona,” Flora asked anxiously, realizing something was amiss.
“Poison,” Iona said as she stumbled to her feet, mumbling something to Flora.
Flora rushed out of the chair as Iona toppled toward her, and she screamed out, “TORIN, POISON!”
CHAPTER27
Kinnell rushed to the dais, reaching it before Torin did and vaulted over the table to take Iona in his arms before Torin reached his wife’s side. He sank to the floor with her, his heart beating madly in his chest when he saw her fight to keep her eyes open.
“Don’t you die on me, Iona,” Kinnell shouted at her as if she could not hear him. “You cannot die before we have a chance to love, marry, have bairns, and grow old together. Do you hear me? I will not have it. You will not leave me. I have been a fool. I should have told you sooner. I should not have wasted time.” He bent his head and kissed her brow. “Please, Iona, please, I beg you. Do not leave me.”
Tears pooled in Iona’s fluttering eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks, trailing slowly down them.
“Henry!” Flora shouted to her husband’s dismay. “Black henbane,” she repeated what Iona had mumbled to her. “Do you recall it?”
“Aye,” Henry said, having hurried forward. “That scholar from Innerbrook believed it could keep a person from feeling horrific pain. Unfortunately, through trial and error he discovered too much would kill a person. How much did she drink?”
Flora pointed to the tankard for him to have a look and realized the drink was meant for her.
Henry peered into the tankard. “It remains more than half full. She may only sleep, though it depends on how much was used. Only time will tell.”
“There is nothing that can be done for her?” Kinnell begged with desperation, hugging Iona’s limp body against him.
“Time. She will either wake or she will slip into a deep sleep and wake no more,” Henry said.
“Iona did not even drink half,” Flora said, trying to reassure Kinnell and herself and silently praying that Iona would survive.
“I will take her to her cottage,” Kinnell said. “When she wakes, she can tell me what to do to help her.”
Torin summoned several warriors to assist him and guard Kinnell, but Kinnell let no one near Iona, keeping her tucked tight in his arms as he carried her out of the keep, whispering to her as he went.
“It was meant for me,” Flora said, turning to her husband, his arm tight around her. “I was too full to eat or drink and offered it to Iona. It is my fault.”