Chapter 11
THE FOLLOWING DAY
Movement caught Nora’s eye. She glanced up from where she kneeled in the earth, high up to one of the Keep windows.
Laurie stood there, silhouetted in the glass, swathed in blankets and shawls. Her nurse stood behind her, diligently clinging to the little girl. When their eyes met, Laurie brightened and waved cheerfully.
Smiling to herself, Nora waved back.
The heat of yesterday had somewhat dissipated. The sky was heavy and cloudy today, iron-gray with the promise of rain. While the air was still a little warmer than it ought to be at this time of year, the oppression had gone. There’d be a thunderstorm sooner or later, no doubt.
The nurse whispered something in Laurie’s ear and whisked her out of sight. No doubt she didn’t want the little girl standing at the window too long, in case she got a chill. Very wise.
Only now, just at midday, did Nora feel safe enough to leave Laurie, even for an hour or two. The little girl’s fever had dissipated a good deal, but not completely. For now, the worst was over, but she might relapse.
Hence Nora’s frantic search through the Keep’s kitchen garden.
The MacColl healing chambers were worse than she had expected.
The infirmary desperately needed airing, sweeping, and dusting.
No healing chambers should have that many cobwebs.
The apothecary room was poorly stocked, and she already had a list of a dozen medicines that needed to be prepared and placed on the shelves for the place to be considered adequately ready for an emergency.
And then there was the fact that when an emergency had occurred, in the middle of the night, almost all of the healers had been out of the Keep, and the one remaining man was drunk.
That would never have been allowed in Bryden Keep.
There were at least five Keep healers in the Chambers, and no less than two could be left at the Keep at any one time, unless there was some sort of plague sweeping through the land.
And then there were apprentices, and people hired especially to help make up the medicines, orderlies, and midwives in the infirmary, and so on.
We could manage such a thing here, she thought. I could train up more apprentices, organize the Chambers better, restock the shelves…
Well, she had a year, didn’t she? She could get something good done here and return to Bryden Keep with the sense of a job well done.
With Margaret at me side.
Nora’s chest clenched at that thought. Creighton had promised to help her find Margaret, hadn’t he?
She prayed that he wouldn’t forget his promise amid his concern for Laurie.
A fresh hope coiled in her chest, a half-forgotten conviction that it wasn’t too late, that Margaret was still out there somewhere.
Above her, the clouds clustered threateningly. There’d be rain before night fell, and possibly worse. She shuffled on her knees sideways along the furrow of soil to where bushels of sage grew thickly.
The soil at MacColl Keep couldn’t be faulted, at least.
“Lady Nora?”
She flinched at the voice from behind. At first hearing, it wasn’t familiar. Twisting around to look over her shoulder, she sighed.
“Andrew. What a pleasure. And ye can just call me Nora, ye ken. I imagine that it’s hard to call a woman lady when she’s wrist-deep in the earth and stinkin’ of herbs.”
Andrew blinked large, nervous eyes. “Herbs daenae stink. They always smell good. Green and fresh.”
“Mm-hm. What do ye need?”
“I heard that Lady Laurie is much improved.”
“Aye, she’s comin’ on well,” Nora agreed.
“But we cannae rest just yet. We need to ensure that she doesnae relapse. And while we’re doin’ that, we should do somethin’ about yer healin’ chambers.
They’re a disgrace. If I hadnae been here, what would have become of Laurie?
Would she have been attended to by a drunken man? ”
Andrew bit his lip. “The nurse…”
“The nurse is not a trained healer. Tell me, Andrew, when ye look at me, scrabblin’ amongst the herbs and plants, what do ye see?”
She sat back on her heels, meeting his gaze squarely. She waited. He reddened, shifting his weight from foot to foot, but made no move to dart away.
“I daenae ken,” he said at last.
“I am pickin’ sage,” she said at last, holding up a fistful of the stuff.
“Rosemary. Mint. Lavender. Tarragon. Me basket is full of herbs and plants, some that I wager ye could nae even name. Every single one has a use. This herb can be brewed into a tea to bring down a fever. This one is crushed with others into a paste and put on a wound to stave off infection. Yet another mixture will make blood clot more quickly and prevent blood loss. I ken how to loosen the mucus in a child’s lungs, stitch up a wound, and deliver a baby while keeping the mother alive.
I could go on. Do ye think that these skills are just knacks?
Do ye think they come about by accident? ”
Andrew gnawed on his lower lip. “Nay,” he said at last, sounding a little crushed. “I daenae.”
Nora reached into the leather belt she always kept slung at her hips, heavy with little pouches and pockets. Taking out a small pair of shears, she snipped off a few more pieces of sage, tossing them into the basket.
“There’s work to be done,” she said firmly, eyes on her work. “And that work willnae get done if we fight against each other. How would Laurie have fared last night, if all we’d done was scrabble and argue against each other?”
Andrew swallowed audibly. “I think ye are right. I… I am here to apologize.”
Well. That was unexpected. Nora looked at him curiously. Andrew gave her a nervous smile, fingering the cross at his neck.
“I shouldnae have called ye a witch,” he said, in a rush. “That was cruel, and it’s a bad accusation to make. Ye daenae poison people, do ye?”
She couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him. “Anybody with a knowledge of herbs has the ability to poison somebody. Just like ye, ye carry a sword. Ye could draw it at any moment and chop off somebody’s head. Are ye goin’ to do that?”
“Nay.”
“Well, then.”
An awkward silence filled the air. Nora refocused on her work.
The basket was nearly full. Once she had collected what she needed, she would return to the healing chambers.
The drunken healer—his name was Donal, a man about five-and-twenty, who was nursing a terrible hangover this morning—appeared at least capable of making some medicines.
She would meet the other two healers, both women, when they decided to return.
While Donal was preparing the medicines and mixtures, she would check on Laurie.
If Laurie continued to do well, Nora might even risk a trip outside the walls to search the forest for herbs and medicines that couldn’t be found in the gardens.
Yes, lots of work to do.
Andrew didn’t move. Biting back an annoyed sigh, Nora glanced up at him and lifted her eyebrows.
“Have ye got yerself a lass, Andrew?”
Andrew turned an interesting shade of red. “Nay, of course nae!”
“Why of course nae? Handsome lad like ye could get one easily. Then ye would have somethin’ to do with yer time, and nae loom over me.
What do ye want, Andrew? If ye want to ken if I’ve accepted yer apology, the answer is aye.
Of course I have. I bear ye nay ill will, ye are nae cursed, and the only advice I will give ye now is that if ye ever do meet a real witch, ye should probably be a wee bit more polite to her. ”
Andrew did not seem to be enjoying this conversation. He shifted from foot to foot, clearing his throat anxiously and glancing around as if he hoped to be rescued.
“Can I visit Laurie? Theo and I wanted to see her.”
“Nae today, but soon, I’m sure. She’s weak; fevers often leave people in such a state. She needs rest, food, and very little excitement, just until she gets back some of her strength.”
Andrew nodded tightly. “Aye, of course.”
He stayed there, staring at her, as if waiting for her to do something. It made her feel like an animal in a cage, being watched with mingled horror and curiosity. The feeling was not a pleasant one.
“Was there anythin’ else?”
Leave me alone, ye fool, she wanted to yell. Really, it did not seem that there was any harm in Andrew, beyond his panicky fear of witches. He didn’t want her to be hurt or thrown out of the Keep, or anything like that.
Perhaps he wants to be me friend, now.
Nora eyed him again through a narrowed gaze.
Andrew gave off the perfect appearance of a warrior.
Now, with the wind blowing his pale hair away from a weather-reddened face, he looked almost handsome.
Not Nora’s taste, not by a long shot, but he was the sort of man Margaret might have liked, once upon a time.
But do I even ken what sort of man me sister likes anymore? When was the last time we properly saw each other?
With a flinch, Nora remembered something Margaret had said, weeks before she disappeared.
‘I wish ye would find somethin’ else in yer life to love besides me, Nora. I willnae always be here, and then what will become of ye?’
She could hear the words echoing in her head, spoken in Margaret’s tired, almost exasperated voice. She closed her eyes, just briefly.
“Well, in any case, I came here because Laird MacColl sent me,” Andrew said at last, interrupting her thoughts. “He wants to invite ye to supper tonight.”
Nora opened her eyes. “Ye mean I willnae be eatin’ alone in me room? What a magnanimous man he is.”
Andrew frowned. “Ye daenae like him, do ye?”
“I didnae say that.”
“Ye might as well have done.”
She folded her arms and tossed the small shears into the basket. She would have to remember to return them to her belt before giving the basket to Donal. Like a good knife, a good, sharp pair of shears could be hard to find.
“I think ye like him enough for us both. Ye and Theo hang off his sleeve like ye think the sun shines out of his…”