Chapter 10 #2
The little girl moved limply, head lolling back on the pillow. Her eyes shifted under her lids, frantically, and there was a sheen of sweat over her face. Her skin, clammy and gray, was hot to the touch.
Creighton sucked in a breath. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Fever,” Nora whispered. “A twilight fever.”
“A what?” Creighton gasped, leaning forward. His shoulder nudged hers, and he leaned forward over his sister. “Laurie, Laurie, lass, open yer eyes, look at me.”
“They’re more common in children than adults,” Nora stuttered. “We see them brought on more often by unseasonable heat, but often they just come and go with nay explanation.”
Creighton kneeled on the bed, grasping Laurie by the shoulders as if to shake her.
“Nay, daenae,” Nora said at once, pushing him back. “Let me help her. What healers do ye have in the Keep? Send for them.”
“We do not have many,” Creighton stammered. “Only Robert Tivvens is left in the Keep tonight, and I believe he’s... drunk.”
Nora bit her lip and said nothing. Now was not the time to complain about the state of Keep MacColl’s healing chambers. That could wait.
“Then I will help her,” she murmured. “Help me get her into the center of the bed. Somebody, open the window and let in some air. Nae too much, we daenae want her getting’ chilled.
Fetch broth, clean warm water, and a tarrowfoot paste in yer apothecary, if ye have one.
Wake Robert Tivvens if ye must, and have him fetch one out of ye. ”
Creighton made a quick, angry movement of his hand, and the others sprang into action, rushing to obey him.
“I’ll get the paste,” Theo breathed, setting off at a run.
“Broth and warm water,” the nurse echoed, wiping her eyes again. Andrew rushed forward to open the windows.
“Should I fetch anyone else?” Dallas asked, his voice hard and grim. “I can send riders to fetch the healers who are out in the villages tonight.”
Creighton answered him, but Nora barely heard his answer.
Leaning forward, she placed her hand over Laurie’s forehead.
Her fever seemed hotter than before, if that was at all possible.
When she pulled back the girl’s eyelids, her eyes were white, rolled right back in her head. Her breathing came short and sharp.
“We need to bring her around,” Nora announced, to no one in particular. “If she is conscious, we can keep her from fallin’ asleep again. Creighton, help me pull her into a sittin’ position.”
Creighton obeyed, his face white. Together, they maneuvered Laurie up so that she rested against a slope of pillows, the blankets tucked around her waist and a shawl around her shoulders.
“We daenae want her to get too hot or too cold,” Nora advised.
“And the tarrowfoot paste, will it help?”
“I shall mix it with some of me own medicines in the broth,” Nora explained. “A wee bit of sustenance will do her no harm, and I find that the broth makes it go down easier.”
She glanced up and found Creighton’s eyes fixed unblinkingly upon her.
“Ye have done this before?” he breathed. “Ye have nursed a bairn through one of these fevers?”
“Many times,” she assured him, holding his gaze.
“And do they survive?”
“Often.”
“But not always?”
She swallowed. “Nay. Nae always.”
In the silence that followed, Andrew came tiptoeing forward, eyes wide with anxiety.
“Laird, is this wise?” he whispered. “Her own medicines? We ken she can poison a man and leave nay trace…”
Nora growled under her breath, fixing him with a furious, unblinking stare. “If I really did possess such skills, lad, I can assure ye that ye would be the first I’d try them out on.”
Andrew paled, shrinking back. “Me Laird, she threatened me.”
“Enough of yer whinin’!” Creighton roared. “If ye have nothin’ useful to say, get...”
Nora held out a hand, and to her amazement, Creighton fell silent.
“Andrew,” she said firmly, meeting his eye. “I’m nae a witch, and I’m nae a murderer. What I am is a healer. Ye are fond of wee Laurie, are ye nae?”
Andrew’s lower lip wobbled. “Of course I am. She’s a wee angel. Except, of course, when she’s nae,” he added in a mumble.
“Then ken that I want to help Laurie. I want to heal her. “I’m sure that ye daenae trust me, and I am nae askin’ ye to trust me in anythin’ else. Trust that I want to help her, aye?”
Andrew swallowed thickly, his wide-eyed gaze dropping down to where Laurie lay, sweat-drenched and insensible.
“Aye,” he echoed, nodding tightly. “Aye. I… I’m sorry, me Laird. I’m sorry, Lady Nora.”
At that moment, the nurse hurried back in with broth and warm water, still sniffling as she fought back tears. Theo followed quickly, carrying the tarrowfoot paste. Nora directed Creighton to wipe Laurie’s sweat with the water while she prepared to mix medicines into the broth.
“Here, lassie, take a wee sip of this,” she whispered, ladling a small spoon into Laurie’s mouth. The little girl screwed up her face. “Aye, I ken, the medicines make it taste strange. But ye must drink it, love, ye must drink it.”
Four spoonfuls later, Laurie’s eyes flickered behind her lids. Slowly, slowly, her eyes cracked open. Creighton gave a ragged gasp of relief.
“Nae out of the woods yet,” Nora whispered to him, then placed a hand over Laurie’s forehead. “How do ye feel, Laurie?”
“The broth is bitter,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Nora let out a slow breath. “Then we’ll have shortbreads brought for ye to eat with it.”
This time, everybody who was not Nora or Creighton rushed to fetch the treats.