Chapter 15 #2
Once she left, Fergus stepped up to her. “Why did ye ask her such questions?”
Lilliana sighed. “I was thinking that the castle and the village eat mostly the same food, but the castle has its own well, am I right?”
Fergus’s brow furrowed. “That is correct.”
“So, I am thinking, what if the disease is in the water?”
Fergus’s frown deepened. “In the water? Ye mean, like worms?”
“Yes, or maybe something else. I am not sure, but we have not been able to identify the cause. And from the patients I have seen today, it does not look like the plague. In any case, I am sure you have killed all the rats by now.”
Fergus inclined his head in confirmation.
“So do you think we can get a sample of the water?”
“What will ye do with it?”
Lilliana thought about the instrument she packed at the last minute. Her father had procured it as a favor, but he never stopped her from using it.
“I do not need a microscope to know that something is wrong,” Lilliana said, kneeling beside the stream as she filled a small glass vial. “What we must do is observe its effects.”
Fergus frowned. “Observe?”
She stoppered the vial carefully. “If the disease is in the water, then the strength of the dose matters. Those who drink it daily grow gravely ill. A single draught, taken once, may only cause a mild affliction… enough to confirm our suspicions without lasting harm.”
“That sounds like a dangerous game, lass.”
“Perhaps,” she relented quietly. “But healers have always learned by trial, have they not? I will not ask the villagers to drink from it blindly. We begin small. Measured.”
She turned the vial slowly in her hand, the dark water catching the light. “If it is contaminated, we will know soon enough.”
Fergus’s eyes widened, and he nodded somberly. “Oh, aye. That is sensible.”
“If it is something in the water, I am not sure what we can do about it, though,” she warned.
“But there is a way to purify it, is there nae? These are living creatures, nay? So, if ye boil them in water, they should die.”
She nodded. “That is true. If they boil the water before drinking it, that will help. We should not wait until we test it. We should tell them to start doing so now. It will save some from getting ill if that is what we are dealing with.”
Fergus nodded. “I will tell the priest to make an announcement at the kirk.”
“Will he listen to an Englishwoman’s advice?” Lilliana frowned with worry.
“Of course. Everyone is concerned about this illness. I am sure the good faither doesnae want to lose any more of his congregation.” He winked at her.
“I suppose you are right. Can I leave it to you to speak to him?”
“Aye,” Fergus said after a moment. “I will speak with the priest. Folks will heed him quicker than they would me—or an English healer, forgive me saying it.”
“I understand,” she assured him.
He gestured to one of the guards. “Come with me. We will gather a few samples on the way.” Then to Lilliana, “Will ye remain here until I return, Me Lady?”
She nodded. “There are still many waiting.”
Fergus gave a short bow of his head and departed, the guard at his side.
Left with the villagers, Lilliana turned back to her work. A young boy sat before her, pale and sweating, though the air was cool. His mother wrung her hands.
“His state worsens each morning,” she whispered.
Lilliana checked his pulse, then asked gently, “What does he eat? Where does he play?”
“Nothing different,” the mother answered. “Only the water. He drinks more than most; he is always thirsty.”
Lilliana’s gaze drifted to the well.
Later, an older fisherman approached, leaning heavily on a stick. “Strange thing, Me Lady,” he muttered. “Those of us who drink from the upper spring are well enough. It is the folks below the bend who fall ill.”
“The upper spring?” she repeated.
“Aye. Clear as glass, but farther away.”
Her mind turned over the pattern, pieces aligning with uneasy precision.
By the time Fergus returned, dusk had begun to settle over the rooftops. “The priest will make the announcement,” he said. “Boiled water only, until we ken more.”
Relief mingled with urgency in her chest. “Then we must go. I wish to study what you gathered.”
The ride back to the castle was slow and peaceful. Lilliana sat quietly, replaying every conversation in her mind—the thirsty boy, the fisherman, the line of pale faces waiting for relief.
Nonetheless, she could not help but feel slightly disappointed that she had not seen Kayden all day.
After their heated encounter the night before and the very flirtatious conversation they had at breakfast, she’d half expected him to appear with a wink and a smirk, throwing his weight around like the Laird he was.
Instead, the road stretched empty behind them.
She was both relieved and disappointed that he had not. She touched her throat, where her pulse fluttered every time she thought about him leaning down to press his lips to hers. She dared not think of his lips on any other part of her, lest she combust.
As they came to a stop at the castle doors, Lilliana began to gather her samples. She wanted to start her research right away, as one of her books warned that samples might expire if kept for too long.
“Will you be joining me?” she asked Old Fergus, holding up the samples.
He shook his head. “Ach, what use have I of these newfangled apparatuses? I will wait to hear what ye find.”
Lilliana nodded and then climbed out of the carriage, heading straight to the healer’s quarters with her basket of samples, Betsy following behind with what was left of the simples they had gone with.
“Well, that was a busy day,” Betsy said breathlessly.
Lilliana nodded absently, her mind on her samples. “Yes, and too many children are suffering. I must check if there is a difference between these samples before the light fades.”
“Oh, I expect we will. You have so many ideas!”
Lilliana unlocked the door to the healer’s quarters and placed the basket on the stone table. She went to the cupboard where she had stored her microscope and pulled it out, placing it on the table. It was no miracle device, but another way to compare color, sediment, and clarity.
Betsy squealed in excitement as she peered over her shoulder. “Ooh, are we looking at the water through that? Will you see tiny creatures dancing in there?”
Lilliana smiled. “Perhaps only grains of silt and a trick of the glass. But sometimes even illusions teach us where to look.”
“Mmm,” Betsy replied, unconvinced. “Well, I shall go and draw you a bath, shall I? Will you be going down for dinner?”
“In a moment,” Lilliana said, adjusting the lens. “I wish to note what I can tonight. Let me have a look at these before I lose the light, so I can be prepared for when I return to the village.”
“Very well, My Lady.”
She leaned closer to the glass, the fading light catching the surface of the dark water.
There is so much at stake. Lives depend on me finding an answer.