The Healer

by Allison Butler

  Dragging in a shaky breath, Lynelle gazed at the peaceful village. On such a beautiful day, the men would be working their small fields or tending animals or mending fences. The women would either be helping or cooking or washing clothes. The children...

  She swallowed. She had no clue as to how the contagion spread. Was it already too late for the people in the village? Squeezing her eyes shut, she hoped not. But if it was she’d do all in her power to make sure it went no further.

  The castle folk must be kept away. Including William. Her heart ached just thinking of him. He would come, she knew. He might despise her for not telling him exactly who she was, but his pride would demand the reasons why. She had to find a way to stop him, to keep him safe. It wouldn’t be easy. She needed help.

  Forcing her feet to move, she went in search of Ian and prayed to God for strength and to the Saints that He was listening.

  ***

  William leapt from the boat and glared up at the sun. The ball of fire seemed to glare back as it slowly descended in the sky. His initial fury on waking at noon had eased, thanks to Mary’s heated outburst.

  ‘Tired of your temper.’ That was the start of her set-down.

  ‘We searched the laird’s chamber, the stables and asked Geordie if he’d taken you across the loch.’ How was anyone to know he’d slipped into Lynelle’s chamber before dawn and slept within the bedding still thick with her scent? He’d almost believed she was lying beside him.

  ‘Edan thinks you’re angry with him.’ The final part of Mary’s tirade, and the most condemning.

  He’d visited his brother, a necessary delay, and assured Edan his foul disposition had naught to do with him.

  It was her fault.

  She’d broken through his defences, made him love her and then tossed his shattered heart back at him with her lies.

  He followed the curve of the track, doubling his pace to match his escalating pulse. Soon. He would lay eyes on her soon.

  ***

  ‘Lynelle,’ Keita said as she entered the cottage. ‘The laird is coming.’

  No! Not yet. She’d left Ian to watch for anyone approaching the village and knew she only had a few moments to reach the village outskirts before William did.

  With a last glance at the tiny face of the babe in her arms, she passed her into Leslie’s hands. ‘Keita, will you help Hearn move the last of their necessities?’

  ‘Aye.’

  Hastening out the door, she almost collided with one of the women carrying a bundle of essentials. After she had broken the dreadful news to Ian, he’d called the villagers together and she’d told them the situation. They needed to know everything, deserved to know. She’d been almost brutal in her honesty, both regarding the plague’s ferocity and her lack of knowledge about how to deal with it.

  Wide eyes, gaping mouths and ashen faces had stared at her and she’d felt vile and evil for being the one to evoke their fear. Ian had stood tall and pale beside her until Keita had asked after her mother, and Lynelle had revealed the horrible truth. Dashing forward, Ian had caught Keita before she fell, and drew Carney’s small body into the embrace.

  After the initial shock, together they decided it was wise to move everyone into the first four cottages nearest the entrance to the village. It would be cramped and uncomfortable, but if shifting far away from those already afflicted without leaving the village saved lives, she didn’t expect any complaints from any of those concerned.

  Their laird’s reaction would be another matter entirely.

  She walked past Keita’s cottage, the closest to the entrance of the small community, and continued a few paces along the path. The temptation to keep going niggled, but she thrust the awful whisper aside and stopped.

  ‘Please God, give me courage,’ she said softly.

  A flicker of movement signalled William’s arrival. He strode purposely toward her. Each long, powerful stride was an action of natural grace. Her heart shivered at the sight of him, then stilled as he lifted his dark head, revealing the look on his face.

  ‘What in God’s name...?’

  The deep tone of his voice rippled through her. Gritting her teeth, she squared her shoulders and steeled herself against his effect on her.

  ‘Stop. Please,’ she said as he reached the wooden barricade the men had erected across the path, about a dozen feet away from the village’s entrance.

  ‘You think to keep me out of my village?’

  ‘Never. But I hope once you hear what I have to say, you will choose not to come any further.’ Life was all about choice. Another valuable lesson she’d learned here.

  ‘What can you possibly...?’

  ‘If you hold your tongue, I’ll tell you,’ she said, cutting him off.

  ‘And you expect me to believe you?’

  Pain seared her chest. ‘In this, I do, yes.’

  He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her.

  Clasping her hands she said, ‘Arthur and Blair returned at dawn, but Arthur is terribly ill.’ William’s arms dropped to his sides. ‘His symptoms are similar to those of the Black Death.’

  ‘What?’ He looked behind her. ‘Where is he? I’ll discern for my...’

  ‘No.’ She stepped forward as he made to leap the low timber wall. ‘Please, William. ‘Tis Elspeth who described the dark lumps under his arms.’

  He stilled and looked at her. ‘Elspeth?’

  ‘Yes. She awoke early and bid them welcome and stayed to help Blair care for Arthur.’

  ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘No, but I trust Elspeth’s word. The people know and we’ve set measures in place, hoping to stop it spreading.’

  ‘Bloody Christ.’ He turned to the side, fists on hips, and stared off into the distance.

  Lynelle wanted to give him time to absorb the shock, but time was precious. ‘I don’t know if other places have been stricken and I have no clue if there is a cure. All I can suggest is that once you return to the castle, lock the gates and let no one in. Confinement is most important.’

  ‘You expect me to run and hide behind my walls? These are my people, Lynelle...’

  ‘I know it’s difficult, but it might be too late for the villagers. You have a castle full of clansmen who are unaware of the danger and in need of guidance. You are laird. They need you.’

  Her chest ached at his bleak expression. He was trying to find another solution, but there was none to be had. She’d already sorted through other options. She had to sway him, somehow stop him from risking his life in the name of duty or honour.

  ‘Edan needs you,’ she said softly. ‘You are his only brother, the only family he has left.’

  Edan was his weakness, and she believed she’d convinced him, but she continued. ‘There is naught more that can be done here, except wait. Two weeks, William. Please.’

  ‘And if it’s true, how do you plan to dispose of the dead?’

  As morbid as it was, she’d thought about this too. ‘The safest and cleanest way is to burn them.’

  ‘Almighty God!’

  ‘I must go,’ she said, not daring to give him time to change his mind. There was one more thing she needed to say. ‘I’m deeply sorry for not telling you who I was.’

  ‘You should have trusted me.’

  ‘I know.’ She swallowed and blinked back threatening tears. ‘Be safe, William.’

  I love you.

  On trembling legs, she turned and walked back to the village.

  Chapter 28

  WILLIAM stood as if carved of stone and forced himself not to move, to do nothing but watch her walk away. His fingers bit into the wooden wall, the only outward sign of the battle raging within.

  His lack of knowledge about dealing with such a foe slashed his pride, scoured his soul. How could he strike down and defeat an enemy he couldn’t see?

  Her reasoning made perfect sense. It seemed she’d thought of everything, including what method would be best if her predictions proved real. Chris
t! Though it galled him to admit it, he’d grown to trust her when it came to caring for his people’s ills. How could he not, when her skills and kindness had won over his clansmen, with Edan her greatest champion?

  Edan needs you.

  It was true that with only a few words of reassurance from William this morning, Edan’s expression had changed from wretched to joyous, giving weight to her words. Edan relied on William. Though his young brother was surprisingly mature in some respects, he lacked self-confidence in others, a deficiency William would do all in his power to correct.

  Prizing his fingers from the timber, he stared at the point where Lynelle had disappeared and flexed his stiff hands. Despite his confusion and mounting anger when he’d come upon the barrier, he’d had to fight his reaction to her beauty. He’d done well, knowing she couldn’t see the quickening of his blood or hear the reckless pounding of his heart.

  She’d stood in her worn gown, her fiery hair tamed into a single braid. An aura of strength and determination had shimmered about her, even as she’d relayed such dire suspicions, news he needed to share with the unsuspecting castle folk.

  He prayed to God she was wrong.

  ***

  Giving Keita’s arm a gentle squeeze, Lynelle peered into the large pot of broth she’d asked the young woman to prepare. Tear-tracks marked Keita’s pale face, but she offered a tight smile and continued stirring the bubbling brew. The chore gave Keita something to do and Lynelle would make use of the nourishing liquid later.

  Ian set down several clay bottles, fitted with stoppers and filled with water, on a table. Carney played with one of the older children whose family had come to share their home until...

  Thank God he’d stopped asking for his mother.

  Slipping outside, Lynelle visited the three cottages crammed with extra people and made sure they all had enough water and food to last them for...however long it took. Everyone’s spirits seemed high, considering the circumstances, but the air was thick with fear and false gaiety.

  The sun was setting by the time she returned to Keita’s home. Aware of the curious eyes watching her pack fresh vegetables and water into a sack, she was relieved no one asked why. She didn’t want to explain her actions, didn’t want to think too deeply about what she planned to do. In her heart she knew she was making the right decision, and that was the only thing that mattered.

  She retrieved the small bundle she’d set aside earlier. ‘Ian, can you bring the broth outside?’

  ‘Aye.’ He left Keita and Carney exclaiming over the carved wooden toys, lifted the pot and followed her outside.

  Once they passed the third cottage, lying empty and silent, she stopped and turned to face him. ‘This is far enough. Please go back to the others.’

  He stared at her, and within moments his puzzled expression altered to one of disbelief. ‘You mean to join them, don’t you?’ His head jerked toward the far end of the village.

  ‘Yes. Please don’t waste time or breath. I need to do this.’ He wanted to protest. She could see it in his eyes. ‘You love Keita, don’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘Aye.’

  ‘Elspeth asked me to tell you to take care of Keita and Carney if...will you?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘You’re a good man, Ian. They will all need your guidance and support.’ She swallowed. ‘Two weeks from today, the laird will return. If no one shows symptoms of illness by then, I believe all will be well. But, and this is most important,’ she said, clutching his wrist, ‘after two weeks, if none of us answer you when you call, you must burn the cottage.’

  ‘Nae. I can’t – ‘

  ‘Yes, you can. You must.’ A look of horror filled his eyes. ‘It is the only way.’ She loathed heaping such grievous responsibility on one so young, but there was no one else. ‘Your word on this, Ian.’

  His struggle flitted across his features. ‘You have it.’

  Relief poured through Lynelle. ‘Thank you.’

  Ian looked miserable.

  Juggling the sack and bundle, she took the broth. ‘Go back now, Ian.’ She turned and walked away.

  Setting all she carried on the ground between the two end cottages, she entered hers and gathered some necessary herbs. She held little faith they would provide a cure.

  Dusk’s dimming shadows proclaimed the end of another day as she stepped back outside. A tranquil breeze touched her face and she stopped to let it linger. Birds called to one another from the darkened trees that looked like towering giants in the distance. She drew strength from knowing Mother Earth continued as always, despite the threat of impending chaos.

  She searched her heart and mind for any sign of regret and heard only a single whisper. Should she have told William she loved him? No. Doing so might have hampered her efforts to send him away. She wasn’t certain if he loved her, but he did have feelings for her. He must, for how else could he touch her with burning softness? She’d seen the light in his eyes when he joined with her.

  With a sense of peace and warmth filling her chest, she piled the goods in her arms and tapped on the cottage door with the toe of her boot.

  A few moments passed before Elspeth’s voice sounded through the wood. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Hurry, Elspeth. My arms grow weary.’

  ‘Dear Lord. Go away, Lynelle.’

  ‘No. Let me in.’ Her limbs truly were starting to ache.

  ‘You are stubborn,’ Elspeth said. The latch rattled and the door opened a crack. ‘You shouldn’t have come.’

  ‘I’m a healer. Where my skills are needed, I will go.’

  The crack widened, revealing Elspeth’s expression of remorse mingled with relief.

  ‘Please, Elspeth. Stop shaking your head and help me.’

  After swift introductions to Blair, the slight, hollow-eyed woman kneeling beside her slumbering husband’s pallet, Lynelle set the broth over the flames and added two pots of water to boil.

  ‘Elspeth, we must always have water boiling,’ Lynelle said softly, looking into the corner occupied by husband and wife. ‘Once the water cools, we will bathe Arthur with one lot and use the other to wash our hands, before and after we touch him.’

  Elspeth nodded.

  Lynelle ground feverfew and added it to a small amount of broth. She carried two bowls to Blair, asking her to coax Arthur to take some of the soup containing the herbs. She then sprinkled lavender oil about his bedding, hoping the natural calming properties would help them all.

  Late the same night, Blair was struck with a fever. They placed her on a pallet beside her husband and dribbled broth mixed with herbs into the their mouths. Blair seemed at peace, lying as quietly as Arthur now did. They bathed her from head to toe and found several dark masses in the crease of her upper thigh.

  As they worked, Lynelle said, ‘Be careful not to burst the swellings. I fear they are full of poisoned blood.’

  Elspeth’s hand stilled where she worked, cooling Blair’s chest.

  Lynelle looked up and found Elspeth staring at her with terror-stricken eyes.

  ‘Elspeth. What’s wrong?’

  Elspeth peered down at her hands. ‘When I first bathed Arthur, I washed beneath his arms. He groaned and jerked and my nail scored the lump under his arm. That is how I first noticed the dark swelling.’

  A chill swept through Lynelle. ‘I am not certain, Elspeth.’

  Elspeth nodded and Lynelle heard her swallow. Then she ducked her head to hide her fear for her friend.

  The ill pair suffered bouts of delirium and sleep. Lynelle and Elspeth bathed them, encouraged them to take in broth, paced and dozed wherever they sat.

  Two days after her initial fever, Blair died. As if sensing his wife no longer lived, Arthur joined her in death a few hours later.

  Leaving them where they lay, Lynelle covered them with linen cloths and joined a weeping Elspeth on the opposite side of the room. Lynelle did her best to remain encouraging, but it was difficult to look into Elspeth’s fearful, sunken eyes.
Neither of them slept, as exhausted as they were.

  Elspeth’s fever started with a shiver. ‘I’m glad you came,’ she said to Lynelle when she knew she hadn’t been spared. She fought well, calling for Keita and Carney whenever she woke. Lynelle doubled her useless efforts.

  Three days later, moments before dawn, Elspeth’s struggle ended.

  Lynelle draped Elspeth’s body with linen and knelt beside her friend. Dry-eyed, numb, her gaze roamed over the three that no longer were. Days ago she’d witnessed the miracle of birth, and now she’d experienced the cruelty of death.

  Was she next? Not yet. There was one more thing she had to do.

  Wresting her way to her feet, she stripped out of her gown and set a torch to flame. Shuffling to the door in shift and boots, she opened it, stepped through and closed it behind her.

  Cool morning splashed her face and bare arms. She stumbled a few paces into the clearing and turned to stare at the death-ridden cottage. Sucking in huge gulps of fresh air, she sent a prayer to the heavens for the souls within and with an exhausted groan, threw the flickering torch upon the roof.

  Fire caught quickly, devouring the thatched roof in moments. Red-hot flames crackled, as thick swirls of dark smoke tumbled high, marring dawn’s pale sky. The scent of burning stole the sweetness from the air. Heat stretched out to meet her, drying the tears spilling down her cheeks. Guilt for not saving them almost drove her to her knees.

  She removed her boots and hose with trembling hands and tossed them into the thriving blaze. Her heart ached. Her head pounded, every inch of her hurt.

  No more. No more. Please, no more.

  Spinning about, she staggered to her cottage and sealed herself inside. Bone weary, she slid down the wooden door, clutching her knees to her chest. She’d seen the pain the three afflicted with the pestilence had suffered, knew exactly what to expect.

  But as exhausted as she was, she couldn’t sleep. Resting her chin on her knees, she waited for death to come.

  Chapter 29

  ON William’s return to the castle, he and Geordie dragged the rowboat and barge from the loch, securing both onto land. They closed and barred the massive gates and while Geordie called together every clansman in the bailey, from stable hands to blacksmith and the guards on the battlements, William carried Edan from his chamber and summoned the people inside the keep.