Chapter 7 #4
She’s already shaking her head. ‘No. This is a woman’s problem. I'd feel more comfortable if it was you.’
‘Of course. Shall we go inside?’
She glances toward the Trading Post, and then nods, moving aside so that I can enter her home.
‘Lay Taramel on the table,’ I say, and she does what I ask.
I unswaddle the tiny thing. ‘Not very old,’ I murmur and Dawn nods.
‘But six weeks.’
She looks worried as I feel the babe’s stomach and chest, looking over her fingers and toes.
‘She is warm,’ I say. ‘I would suggest a tincture for you.’
‘Me?’ she asks.
‘Aye. When you feed the little one, the medicine will go to her through your milk. I’ll go to the apothecary now and get it for you.’
‘Will she be all right?’ Dawn asks, stroking the babe’s brow lightly.
‘Take the tincture three times a day. Keep her close to you. She’ll be cool by the morning, but keep taking the tincture for five days,’ I advise.
She grasps my hand suddenly. ‘Thank you,’ she chokes out, tears coming to her eyes. ‘I’ve been so worried!’
I pat her fingers. ‘You can come to the healer’s rooms whenever you have need, and if there’s no one there, come to the cottage. You know where I live?’
She nods and then hesitates.
‘Was there something else?’ I ask.
‘Well, yes, there was something.’ Her cheeks pinken. ‘It’s my teats. They’re so sore and cracked. They bleed. Feeding her is so painful.’
I give Dawn a sympathetic look. ‘I have a salve that will help.’
‘It’s safe for the babe?’
I nod. ‘Perfectly. I’ll bring it later.’
She nods. ‘Thank you.’
With a nod, and a promise to return with the medicines, I go back into the street.
I see Jak finally able to get away from the old man, and try to give him a normal smile. I’ve already decided not to tell him about Tavish’s rudeness, nor what I think I did. I won’t tell anyone about that. I might need the upper hand later.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says with a bemused glance at the old man who’s now slowly walking down the road. ‘Old Alben is difficult to dissuade once he begins talking.’
‘It’s all right,’ I say. ‘Tavish said he didn’t have any of those herbs today.’
Jak's brow furrows. 'You’re sure? They're all usually there.'
'That's what he told me,' I say quietly with a light shrug that I hope looks natural.
I see his countenance darken. ‘Are you all right?’
I give him what I hope is a disarming smile. ‘Of course.’
'I see.’
He doesn’t look wholly convinced that I’m telling the truth, but starts walking with me back toward the apothecary.
‘I met a woman just now outside the Trading Post,’ I say as we go. ‘She needs a tincture and some salve. Can we take them to her in a bit?’
He nods, giving me a wide grin. ‘They’re starting to get to know you. We’ll go as soon as we finish for the day.’
I nod.
We enter the apothecary, but before I follow Jak into the healing rooms, I try to make the chime in the window fall, something fly across the room, or the candle on the nearby table flicker.
Nothing happens and I frown at myself.
Maybe I need to be angry for it to work.
I join Jak in the healer’s rooms and draw out some of the right tincture for Dawn and her babe into a small vial from the much larger pots on the shelf by the wall that Jak makes in batches.
In the apothecary, I locate the salve that’s already been decanted into small pots.
Then, I begin to sweep up some of the bits from where I’ve been mixing herbs this afternoon, but Jak takes the broom and waves me away.
‘It’s almost time to leave for the day. You need do no more. Thank you for your help these past few days. You have a natural skill with healing, you know.’
I turn to look at him fully, finding it impossible not to smile at his words.
‘Thank you,’ I say, a little bashfully. ‘Coming here every day. Learning. It’s been… I very much enjoy it. Thank you for suggesting it, Jak.’
He coughs a little. ‘It was actually Locke’s idea. I had my reservations.’
I feel my face fall a bit. Did Jak not think I could do it?
‘Oh?’
‘It was only that I thought you should have more time, Bryn, to settle in, I mean. But he was right, though I’m loath to admit it. Getting you out of the cottage, ensuring people see you, speak with you, get to know you. It was a good idea.’
‘I suppose so,’ I say quietly.
I wouldn’t have thought that Locke, out of the three of them, would be the one pushing for me to set roots down here, or that he’d know me well enough to understand how bored I’d have been just sitting in the cottage for days on end with nothing to keep me busy but waiting to be told when to report to Voss, or waiting for the three of them to return in the evenings.
Jak and I finish cleaning up and leave for the night. Before we go home, however, we return to the cottage where Dawn lives. I knock on the door, and it opens just a crack.
‘Dawn? I brought?—’
‘My thanks,’ a whispered voice interrupts, and a hand reaches out to snatch the bag from my fingers.
The door shuts with a small click and I blink at it for a moment before I turn to Jak with a shrug. ‘I suppose she was busy…’
He’s staring at the closed door with a sardonic expression.
‘What is it?’
‘Was the woman’s name Dawn?’ he asks.
I nod and he snorts.
‘What?’ I ask again.
‘Dawn is Tavish’s wife. Taramel is his daughter.’
My eyes widen. ‘No wonder she seemed worried earlier,’ I mutter. ‘Her husband won’t be angry with her if he learns Dawn took help from me, will he?’
Jak puts his arm around my shoulders and I try not to melt into him.
‘I’ll tell you a secret. Tavish talks much, but he’d do anything for Dawn and his babe. This may well work in your favor, love.’
Love?
Jak takes my hand and walks with me slowly to the cottage we all share. All the way back, all I can think about is how my fingers feel intertwined with his, how much I like it.
When we go inside, I smell immediately that Morgan has cooked for us again and I can’t help but take in a lungful of the delicious scents that make my mouth water.
Gods, he makes everything taste better than anything I’ve ever eaten before. Granted, I was a slave and the bar was low, but…
The table is already set. All I have to do is sit down and enjoy eating the food that’s been prepared, talk about my day, listen to theirs’.
It strikes me what a far cry this is from my former life…and how much I’d be prepared to give to keep it.
'You don't have to do this every night,' I say to Morgan, nudging him with my arm, though I do tuck into the delicious beef stew that he's made as well as the freshly baked bread.
'I like doing it,' he says, his eye catching mine. 'Cooking and baking. Quiet. Relaxing.'
I lean towards him.
'Are they still making you work on the cottage alone?' I ask.
'I'm afraid so,' he says. 'But I suppose that means it's quiet while I'm working there as well.'
I frown as I eat my stew. I’ve noticed that Morgan does much around Halsford to help the people here, and almost never seems to receive any thanks for his troubles. I don’t like it.
'They’ll see our worths soon,’ I say, and I hope it’s true.
After ensuring that Jak and Locke aren’t paying attention to our conversation, I lean in toward Morgan.
‘Someone was kind to me today,' I tell him quietly.
His eyes widen. 'Truly?'
I nod. 'Claudia. She came into the healer's rooms with her son, Orlan. I gave her a powder for the boy and, afterwards, Jak and I went to the Trading Post to get some herbs. Tavish was there. He was being a cunt to me, and she gave him a severe scolding.’
‘Good.’ Morgan clucks me under the chin and gives me a wink. ‘But where was Jak when all this was happening?’
‘He was close, but speaking with an old man and he couldn’t get away.’
‘I see.’ He smiles again, but his frown returns when he doesn’t think I’m watching.
He doesn’t like that Tavish was rude. I probably shouldn’t have told him, but I was excited that one of the villagers stood up for me.
‘Morgan?’ I whisper.
‘Yes, my little human?’
‘Did you do something to the man from the alley?’
His expression does change, but he doesn’t lie either. ‘Of course, I did. He hurt you. Would have done worse to you.’
His hand gives my cheek a feather-light caress that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others.
‘I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep you safe,’ he says quietly.
I nod. Not sure how I’m meant to feel. He killed that man. For me.
I watch him as I finish my stew. He’s so calm and thoughtful, and yet there’s a darkness, a terrible violence within him as well.
But I like it, I decide. Despite my promises to myself, my mantra, and all that’s happened, I like him.
After our dinner, he and I sit by the fire as is our new little custom. Jak and Locke go back upstairs as they’ve been doing over the past few days, still looking through Locke’s many books, but they've found almost nothing except a collection of vague references that don’t really say much at all.
Morgan and I talk in low voices while we’re alone during these hours, of everything, and of nothing at all.
That night, when I go to bed alone again, I toss and turn, unable to sleep.
I realize that I’m getting more and more annoyed that nothing's happening with even one of the males I’m supposedly bound to.
I hear Morgan still in the common area, putting things away from dinner.
Quickly, so that I don’t second-guess myself, I get out of bed, making sure that I don’t trip over the long hem of the oversized shirt that I've been given to sleep in.
I pad over the threshold and peer into the living area. Morgan sits at the table, polishing his weapons again. He seems to do that a lot.
As I step forward, one of the floorboards creaks, and he looks up sharply.
'Bryn, are you well? Would you like me to get you something?'
I shake my head and move closer. I see his eyes move down my body and back up again, even though it's completely shrouded by the long shirt. I glance down at it and realize that I should have unbuttoned some of the collar. Perhaps that would have enticed him.
But he doesn't want you that way, a voice inside my head says.