later in jellies and a special mixture to ease sore throats.
With a smile to the guard on duty, Catriona passed through the gate, and over the bridge the guard had drawn over the moat. The Earl of Seafield had spared no expense in fortifying his castle, having worked so hard to gain it.
The bright day matched her mood, and Catriona lifted her face to the sky, reveling in the feel of the sun’s warmth on her pale skin. Though her mother would surely be displeased with her for allowing her skin to become even more freckled, she refused to subdue her joy in the beautiful day.
She climbed the hill swiftly, making her way along a narrow path that led to a small cluster of trees. She looked down upon the valley below her, savoring the rich fragrance of wildflowers that scented the air. A small cluster of yarrow grew a few feet from the trees. Skillfully, she picked back the portions of the plant that would be useful, making sure to leave enough new growth behind so she could return later in the season for more.
Though her basket was quickly filled with the necessary herbs, Catriona was loathe to return to the keep so quickly. On impulse, she decided to walk to the hot springs in Whitehills, an hour’s distance by foot. The Red Well had been built hundreds of years earlier by the Romans, and provided a wonderful place to soak and relax in the warm waters. Very few of the residents in the area visited the hot springs, fearing that the site was unnatural because the waters ran red. Catriona had explained countless times that mineral deposits in the rock colored the water, but she could not convince her superstitious kinsmen of this fact. Stories of hauntings and ghostly visitations had been focused on the Red Well for as long as Catriona could remember.
She followed the burn that led to the springs, noticing the stream ran much faster than usual, and looked ready to run over its banks. The heavy rains had been a blessing for the crops, and had lent a rich lushness to the valley. Still, she knew from experience that too much rain could do irreparable damage both to the harvest and the animals living in the valley.
The hot springs were surrounded by a large beehive shaped building the Romans had designed to contain the waters centuries earlier. Catriona carefully stepped along the path worn into the bracken. It wound around the hill, gradually working upward, until the Red Well was in sight. Catriona had to duck before she could enter the building, which had gradually been falling apart over the years. Picking her way through the loose rocks, she walked several paces in darkness before she could see the light pouring through a small opening at the end of the building. The hot springs were situated just before the opening, with enough sunlight seeping in to illuminate the bathing area. Larger rocks directed the flow of the natural spring so that warm water filled a pool large enough to fit several people. In all the times Catriona had visited the hot springs, she had never encountered another person, though at times she had seen red deer, raccoons, pheasants and other small animals in the area.
Stripping off her house dress and her arisaid, Catriona lay them carefully over the edge of the spring. Her chemise, boots and stockings soon followed. As she slowly lowered herself into the warm waters, a sense of wellness and calm enveloped her. She immersed herself until only her head was above the water, and she was comfortably seated on one of the many large rocks that lined the edge of the spring. The Romans had long believed the hot springs had curative properties, and in that moment, Catriona couldn’t find a single flaw in their logic.
She must have dozed for a time, for when she next took note of her surroundings, she saw the sun no longer provided much light inside the tiny building. Sighing, she dragged her sated body from the water and dressed quickly, cursing the lack of any
With a smile to the guard on duty, Catriona passed through the gate, and over the bridge the guard had drawn over the moat. The Earl of Seafield had spared no expense in fortifying his castle, having worked so hard to gain it.
The bright day matched her mood, and Catriona lifted her face to the sky, reveling in the feel of the sun’s warmth on her pale skin. Though her mother would surely be displeased with her for allowing her skin to become even more freckled, she refused to subdue her joy in the beautiful day.
She climbed the hill swiftly, making her way along a narrow path that led to a small cluster of trees. She looked down upon the valley below her, savoring the rich fragrance of wildflowers that scented the air. A small cluster of yarrow grew a few feet from the trees. Skillfully, she picked back the portions of the plant that would be useful, making sure to leave enough new growth behind so she could return later in the season for more.
Though her basket was quickly filled with the necessary herbs, Catriona was loathe to return to the keep so quickly. On impulse, she decided to walk to the hot springs in Whitehills, an hour’s distance by foot. The Red Well had been built hundreds of years earlier by the Romans, and provided a wonderful place to soak and relax in the warm waters. Very few of the residents in the area visited the hot springs, fearing that the site was unnatural because the waters ran red. Catriona had explained countless times that mineral deposits in the rock colored the water, but she could not convince her superstitious kinsmen of this fact. Stories of hauntings and ghostly visitations had been focused on the Red Well for as long as Catriona could remember.
She followed the burn that led to the springs, noticing the stream ran much faster than usual, and looked ready to run over its banks. The heavy rains had been a blessing for the crops, and had lent a rich lushness to the valley. Still, she knew from experience that too much rain could do irreparable damage both to the harvest and the animals living in the valley.
The hot springs were surrounded by a large beehive shaped building the Romans had designed to contain the waters centuries earlier. Catriona carefully stepped along the path worn into the bracken. It wound around the hill, gradually working upward, until the Red Well was in sight. Catriona had to duck before she could enter the building, which had gradually been falling apart over the years. Picking her way through the loose rocks, she walked several paces in darkness before she could see the light pouring through a small opening at the end of the building. The hot springs were situated just before the opening, with enough sunlight seeping in to illuminate the bathing area. Larger rocks directed the flow of the natural spring so that warm water filled a pool large enough to fit several people. In all the times Catriona had visited the hot springs, she had never encountered another person, though at times she had seen red deer, raccoons, pheasants and other small animals in the area.
Stripping off her house dress and her arisaid, Catriona lay them carefully over the edge of the spring. Her chemise, boots and stockings soon followed. As she slowly lowered herself into the warm waters, a sense of wellness and calm enveloped her. She immersed herself until only her head was above the water, and she was comfortably seated on one of the many large rocks that lined the edge of the spring. The Romans had long believed the hot springs had curative properties, and in that moment, Catriona couldn’t find a single flaw in their logic.
She must have dozed for a time, for when she next took note of her surroundings, she saw the sun no longer provided much light inside the tiny building. Sighing, she dragged her sated body from the water and dressed quickly, cursing the lack of any