“Who’s to say that there was more to their life?” Eweln’s words revisited my ear and I shook my head furiously to chase them away.
“No child is meant to live just a few seasons and die,” I answered aloud.
“Who are you talking to, my pet?” A sudden voice spoke out to me, catching me off guard. Aunt Leena stood staring down at me, sporting an unreadable expression.
“Aunt Leena! What are you doing here?” I jumped to my feet and immediately created a distance between us.
“Oh, there is no need for that.” Aunt Leena clicked her tongue and motioned for me to come to her. “I do not think that I will catch what is going around. If I was, it would have happened by now. And I just can’t sit by and be idle. I heard that the sheds have a great shortage of peppermint, lavender, and wild marjoram. I came to help keep your supplies up so that a lack of medicine doesn’t hinder your healing.” She held up a basket that brimmed over with the much-needed herbs. “There’s no need to worry about me.” She attempted to reassure me once more. “I’ve had the sickness several times and have not caught it in my many years. I think I will be fine but you, my love,” She touched my cheek once I was convinced that it was safe. “Look worn to the bone. Come inside, I will make you a hot restorative tea.” Aunt Leena’s mouth curved into a wide, broad smile as she extended her hand towards me. With her smelling strongly of fresh bread and the comforting aroma of the kitchen in my nose, I followed her inside to set to work once again.
************
Aunt Leena kept her promise and brewed a concoction that eased the nervousness and the irritation that I had been unable to shake. The relaxing warmth seeped into my bones, loosening the tightness, dispelling the ache, and settling my heart to a quiet thump, thump, thump inside my chest. As I sat drinking the brew and nibbling on one of the dried currant oatcakes that she had brought, Aunt Leena got to work grinding, straining, and mixing tinctures, whipping up salves and balms that were critically low. While Leena worked and I rested, one of the healers appeared in the doorway.
One glance told us that our fellow healer was pushed to her limit. Leena handed her a cup of hot tea as I got up from the table. The woman took my seat and told us that she had just come from the house of one of the basket weavers. An old man and a young child had both been struck down and suffered greatly. Faced with only enough medicine for one person, our sister was forced to make the moral choice of administering to the child while watching the grandfather die.
“He forgave me in the end,” She did her best to fight off tears, but it was a battle that she lost. “He told me that he knew why I made the choice I made.” She drew in a deep, ragged sigh that teetered on the edge of a breakdown. “He said that he had lived a full life. He wanted his grandson to do the same. And then, as he reached for my hand, he struggled to take a breath and died. It wasn’t of any use though. The child followed him to the Summerland shortly afterward.”
Her sorrowful face and her wet cheeks haunted my brain as I sat wishing that I wasn’t cognizant of the world around me. Only once my thirst was sated, did I go to my bed and tried to sleep. With Eweln’s gentle snores in the background, I closed my eyes and tried to still my mind so that sleep would take me until it was time to return to work.
************
Sleep was elusive that night. My mind was restless, refusing to be silent until I could no lie still. Getting up quietly, I went back into the workroom and picked up the journal that Eweln’s mother, Gwellen, had written. I discovered her writings earlier that day when I had gone in search for a scroll and a shelf collapsed. I sat at the table, thumbing through the rough-edged pages, taking in the drawings colored with vegetable pigments and inks made from various berry juices.
“In most cases, make the sick gargle with a mixture of salt and warm water. The salt cleanses the throat. The warmth is soothing. Adding honey into the thyme tea lubricates the throat and eases the coughing.” I said, reading out loud as my finger traced the delicate words across the page. “However, there will be cases where the water and salt are ineffective, and the thyme is useless. In the event of this case, honey added to a well-steeped tea of mullein with horehound preserved in a small dosage of fermented grain alcohol has seen excellent results in every patient treated. For extreme cases, soak the mullein directly in alcohol-horehound mixture and combine it with a small amount of water. Steep the brew for two cycles of the moon, giving the concoction a shake each day. The end result is highly effective. The application of mullein breaks up the thick congestion within the lungs. This remedy is highly effective in the treating of both a cough and congestion that can quickly turn into pneumonia.” My eyes widened with surprise as I reread Gwellen’s words.
“The grain alcohol preserves and strengthens the properties of the herb and prevents ruination. Use mullein liberally. It is an effective expectorant.”
That was it! I thought to myself, slapping the book shut and leaving it there on the table. Why hadn’t we been using this mixture before? I questioned, getting up from the table and rushing outside to where my aunt sat, stealing a spare moment to breathe.
“Aunt Leena,” I said loudly, too excited to care if I woke any of the others up. “Why was Gwellen’s herb diary hidden? There’s a recipe inside that says the use of grain alcohol and mullein are essential in the treatment of coughing sickness.”
“People believe that Gwellen killed a High Priestess, your grandmother. The ignorant among us say that Gwellen poisoned her, but it isn’t true. Raenna was a stubborn woman. She refused Gwellen’s constant attempts at treatment and died as a result of it. Mother’s lady’s maid hated Gwellen and spread the malicious rumor.” Aunt Leena answered bitterly, no doubt thinking about the contemptuous relationship she had shared with both her mother and twin. “Why do you ask? Did you find some of her recipes?” Aunt Leena took a step towards me, intrigued.
“It was hidden from view on the bottom shelf, buried under a pile of scrolls. Its corner caught my eye after the shelf collapsed and all the contents shifted to the floor. Why do you ask?”
“Eweln was ordered to burn it when Mother died. It was Reena’s first decree and one that has made her still very unpopular with the healers. I bet Eweln knew that it would be of use and tucked it away in a spot where she thought no one would find it. Apparently, she hid it so well that even she forgot where she put it.” Aunt Leena joked but did not laugh. “I can’t say that I’m disappointed. Gwellen developed a tonic for women during childbirth many years ago. I still use it every time I’m called to help with a delivery.” Aunt Leena’s eyes lit up. “Where is it now?”
“It’s on the table inside, over near the hearth.” Our eyes met for a moment before my original purpose for coming outside tugged at me. “Do you know if Vesten, the gardener, still make grain alcohol?” I asked as the two of us entered the hut. Aunt Leena moved to where Gwellen’s book rested upon the tabletop. Touching it briefly, she turned from it and went to the table where her wares were spread out. Meanwhile, I stood in the doorway waiting for her reply.
“I believe he does. Why?” Aunt Leena stood, tying her green-stained, thyme and garlic-scented apron around herself.
I flew from the shed, leaving her without an answer and forgetting my winter cloak behind as well. My feet carried me fast as a swift’s wings down the pathway and through the center of our village. The night was near freezing, but I was immune to it. My excitement heightened dulled the icy sting of the wind. When I reached the opposite side, I ran up the twisting, curved pathway to where Vesten and his family lived. With both fists, I banged on their door, not caring that the moon still hung high overhead in the dark, milky sky and the occupants within were still asleep.
“Vesten! It’s Yvaine! I need to speak to you!” I shouted, banging until I was answered.
“Yvaine?” Vesten opened the door as he rubbed the sleep from his brilliant blue eyes. His long, ash-blonde hair was tied back in a braid and his eyes were heavy with sleep. When the door op
ened, he was shirtless and provided me with a glimpse of his bare, well-muscled chest. One gust of the wind provoked him to cover it with a shirt. An unfamiliar tingle shot through me as he momentarily turned away to get dressed. I had always found Vesten handsome, but he was older than me and I was far too shy to think about anything further. “Yvaine, is something the matter?” He yawned as he motioned for me to step inside. “What is it, sweet girl? Come inside and tell me what is wrong.”
“No, thank you,” I waved his gesture off and stated that I could not stay long. “Do you still make grain alcohol?” I asked him, praying to the Goddess that his answer was yes.
“Of course,” His mouth crooked in the hint of a smile but then faded as quickly as it appeared. “Aren’t you a bit young to start taking up the drink?” He teased me and laughed heartily.
“I don’t want to drink it,” I said with serious conviction. “I need it to make medicine. I have a recipe that requires it. The addition of pure grain alcohol strengthens the potency of the concoction. If I can make this medicine, then maybe I can heal those that are dying. If you would give me some, I would greatly appreciate it. I can even trade for it if I need to.” I stated my intention as honestly as I could. Vesten eyed me once more as he processed what I said. For a moment, I feared that he would send me away emptyhanded.
“There is no need for trading. If you think it can help, I will give you as much as you need.” He gently touched my shoulder. He left me standing there, the door still open to his home, the offer to come inside still standing. As I waited, a wet, chest-rattling cough came from the back and I knew that it wasn’t just Vesten’s generosity that persuaded him to help, a more personal reason was behind it. After a few minutes, he reappeared, carrying a large bottle that had been freshly dipped into a cask.
“I will have my brothers carry a few casks down to the sheds immediately.” He handed the bottle to me, as another cough broke the otherwise quiet air. “Just as long as you come back when that elixir is ready and give some to my younger brother.” He implored me, telling me who the earlier cough belonged to. Vannen, his younger brother, was just a few years younger than me. The boy had the sweetest, most gentle disposition but had never aged mentally beyond the age of five.
I thanked him profusely for the small crock of alcohol and promised that I would return as soon as I was able. “In the meantime, give Vannen this. One spoon every hour, on the hour.” I gave him the last of the thyme-garlic infusion that I had carried in my pocket. “If his breathing becomes labored, send for me immediately.”
“I will get you myself.” Vesten thanked me and I turned from him, eager to be on my way.
I rushed back to the medicine sheds with the alcohol safely secured in my hands. As I entered the shed, Aunt Leena was tearing thyme leaves into a large bowl that would soon be ground. Several of the healers worked alongside her. Unable to contain my excitement, I told them of what I had found but kept its providence a secret. My fellow healers brightened with renewed hope with the prospect of a treatment that might finally make a difference. Yet, they quickly pointed out the one obstacle that blocked our way. No one had used mullein since Gwellen died. None of the sheds kept it in supply and no one knew where to look for it. Unable to let something this simple deter me, I left the sheds and headed towards the woods in search of the essential ingredient. The drawing in Gwellen’s book was the only way I had to identify it. As I looked and recalled the other healers’ words, I had no doubt that its absence stemmed from the incident between Gwellen, Reena, my grandmother, Raenna, and her malicious handmaid.
The bright moonlight shining through the trees provided me with easy visibility but alas, the plant I was so desperate to find was not to be found. My next destination was the Hilltop. An assortment of greenery grew amongst the grasses there but after an hour’s search, I came up emptyhanded once again.
“Damn it!” I swore and suppressed the urge to kick a nearby rock. “Where did you get it from, Gwellen? And why didn’t you think to write down where you found it?” I cursed Gwellen’s glaring error. I plopped down on my bottom and sat amongst the grass for a spell while wracking my brain on where to search next.
Just as the early morning air chirped and sang with the chorus of nature, an idea came to me. I sprung to my feet and ran down the side of the hill. I moved quickly through the sleeping village and found myself standing at the waters, once again waiting for a boatman to arrive. Within minutes, a tattooed man, slim with bronzed skin pulled up to shore and met my eye. His resemblance to Eweln was uncanny and briefly, I wondered if they were related.
“Where can I find mullein herb? Take me to where it grows.” I asked and with a single signal of his head, he motioned for me to board.
My guide remained silent as he steered me through the waters, past the Sacred Island and the First Dwelling, where the Huntress was trained for her role within the Spring Rites. Our journey continued beyond the Isle of Priests, where the Hunter was trained for the same ceremony. Soon, I noticed that we had gone to a point where few went. The boatman and I arrived at a small island shrouded in a dense thicket of trees, located a great distance from the inhabited parts of our world. A miniature rocky crag jutted downwards, providing a jagged, uneven slanted surface leading upwards to the island’s shore. Between the jutting stone and the overgrown foliage, there was no easy way for one to step foot upon the small, unused island.
The boatman docked near a large tree that protruded out over the water. Without a word, he gestured for my basket and made a point that I was to remain put. Without hesitation, I handed him what he asked for. I observed as he gingerly stepped out of the boat and gave me one last gesture to stay put. He disappeared into the thickness with the greatest of ease. His nimbleness was simply amazing, especially because of his advanced age. Most men his age could barely walk, let alone climb effortlessly across a rugged, harsh terrain. Hardly any time passed before he reappeared. He climbed back into the boat and handed my basket back to me.
“Mullein,” He said, surprising me to my core. All boatmen were forbidden to speak to us. “For the sick. I did it for her. I will do it for you, too.” Gwellen. He must mean Gwellen. Once again, I wondered if they were related.
“Thank you,” I offered my gratitude, but it seemed lacking at the moment. He bowed, and soon, we were off once again. The journey back was shorter than the journey going. In no time at all, we docked, and I exited quickly, anxious to get back to work. I gave the boatman a quick, thankful wave before I hurried up the path and quickly made my way to the herb sheds.
Sleep was a distant thought that night. With Aunt Leena working alongside me, the first round of draughts and tinctures that I placed all my hopes in were finished. When I first arrived, I explained how the boatman retrieved the herb for me and made it a point to save the roots for the gardeners to start cultivating in the medicinal herb plots.
“These will need to steep,” I said from memory, not wanting to draw attention to Gwellen’s sage advice on the off chance that someone might blab about its existence to Reena or someone with a loose tongue. Together, the healers and I gathered what we needed and crafted what we hoped would finally make a difference in the ever-growing number of the sick. “The recipe says that the tinctures need to strengthen for two turnings of the moon.”
“Time is not a luxury that we can afford, Yvaine. You must find another way to make it.” Aunt Leena said, interrupting me as I recalled what I had read. Her words were calm, even, and most of all, right. “Double the ingredients and double the dosage. These can sit and steep while we work on the next round. We must be quick about getting the medicine ready. People will die if we don’t. There is no time to waste. You need to start administering it immediately. There are many lives depending upon you.”
Aunt Leena was right. The lives of our people rested in my hands. There was no time to wait for the blend to steep. Time only allowed us to enhance its properties. I spent several more hours alongside my aunt, making a new rou
nd of the upgraded elixir. Over the course of several batches, I summoned the boatman and asked him to bring me more mullein. My newfound friend didn’t hesitate to oblige me with what I asked. When I finally had enough to last a while, I felt a kinship with him that went beyond words.
“Stronger and more potent,” I said once I was back at the sheds. I stood amongst my peers, placing all my hopes upon the bottles that stood on the table before us. With a loud sigh, I grabbed three of the bottles and placed them in my medicine bag. “Now, I just need to figure out where to start.” Aunt Leena’s face suddenly turned grave, instantly alerting me that something was wrong.
“I didn’t want to tell you this,” She said. “Your mother sent word this morning. Ravene is ill. She caught the coughing sickness, no doubt from one of those boys she is always kissing. Her symptoms were not so terrible at first but now, she is bedridden and is having a hard time breathing. Ravene’s chest is impacted with mucous and she could die if she is left untreated. Danae says that Reena is beside herself and believes that Ravene is not strong enough to survive.”
Before Aunt Leena could say anything further, I was running furiously towards home. I was filled with fear thinking that my sister was sick and on the brink of death. The thought of her suffering was too much to bear. I moved as fast as my feet would allow. My heart beat faster and faster with each swift step. Once I turned up the path towards home and reached the entrance, my heart started to calm.
The Island of Mists Page 3
