Chapter 13

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His body felt uncomfortable, as if constricted in an iron vest. In his mind, he remembered the rustle of the darkness, as if he was caught in a dark forest with no way out. But who could he call? His father? Despite all the food, toys and riches that Dougal MacCallan provided him, the one thing that Adair had never received from his father was time. In his desperation, Adair had once stolen into Dougal's study to get his father's attention. But from where he hid under the table, he saw Dougal MacCallan bring in two ladies he recognized from the village. He had popped out then, only to receive disapproving looks from the buxom looking females, and an irate father dragging him out. 

After the lashing he got that day, Adair MacCallan told himself he needed no one. Why should he? His father had always stressed that he should trust no one, and rely on no one. 

Yet within the dark shadows that haunted his subconcious, Adair wished he had someone he could call.

---

"The fever's getting ter his head."

Her voice held obvious threads of concern, discernible as her eyes never left the fidgeting, still sleeping Adair. The sun had just started to rise not too long ago, and the Keep was beginning to awaken around them. For Amhuinn and Hammond however, it had been a long  night. They took turns napping and sponging down the young boy, but just as Amhuinn was beginning to think the fever was beginning to break, Adair had started tossing and flipping his head. No amount of soothing or sponging could stop the young four-year old from murmuring words they could not catch, yet it was quite obvious that the boy was distressed.

"What do ye suggest we do?" Hammond asked, quite at a loss. Gillian had never faced such serious illnesses when she was younger, and back then they still had their old healer. Hammond considered himself lucky he never had to solve such issues after their healer had gone, but now he cursed his inability to provide any form of assistance.

"Dunk him in ice water. Tis the fastest way to prevent his temperature from spiking." Amhuinn immediately decided. She almost stumbled as she moved forward towards Adair, had Hammond not caught her. 

"Careful lassie. I told ye, the lad be needing his mither." 

Despite her anxiousness for her son, Amhuinn found her heart skipping a beat when she faced his intense eyes, the rugged look that came only after a night of being deprived of sleep, and the messy red locks made messier from him sleeping face down on his arms on the side of the bed. 

"Could ye get an ice tub prepared?" she managed breathe out, straightening up on her feet and hurrying over to Adair, hoping that Hammond didn't think she was out of breathe from him. Her heart rate only relaxed as she heard the door closing behind her.

Gathering the small four-year old in her arms, Amhuinn marveled at how heavy he had become since the last time she carried him as an infant. She felt a pang of sadness at just how much she had missed of his growing years. She often wondered if he had taken his first steps, whether he was eating well, or what kind of likes and dislikes he had developed as he grew up. 

Hoisting him up over her shoulder, she made it down two flights of stairs, wincing as her injured ankle starting shooting pain when the weight was suddenly lifted away from her. In her surprise, Amhuinn only looked up in shock. The surprise dissipated however, when she recognize Tristan's smiling form.

"Laird MacKenzie sent me ter look fer ye. He had a feeling ye wouldna be able ter carry Adair down by yerself." Tristan mentioned, hoisting Adair up in his arms and looking down at the boy, a worried look furrowing his brow. "He isna getting better, is he?" 

"He will." Amhuinn replied, refusing to back down. A stubborn line set her lips, as she started to make her way down with determination in her steps. "I'll make sure he will."

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