Knight's Legacy (23 page)

“Oh, Glyniss, be careful,” Cat said.

“Dinnae fash yourself, lass, for I be a healer, and I have a wee angel hovering about me. Never do I fall prey to fevers, though I have tended many stricken with them.”

Cat protested once again, but Roderic held fast to his decision not to allow her to go with Glyniss. The healer took her potions and rode back to the Gordon clan with the two soldiers sent by the Laird.

Cat was extremely ill at ease; weeks went by before Glyniss returned. Riding in with five of the Gordon guard waving their colors at half-mast, she looked tired, her expression disheartened. Cat felt afraid as Glyniss got down from her horse with help from one of the Gordon soldiers, seemingly too weary to take another step.

“Douglas is dead, and the Gordon Laird. I did my best, but the fever took twelve of the clan.”

Cat rushed forward. “Hope, the baby, she's not …”

Glyniss held her hand up and gestured briefly to the soldier who sat his horse behind Cat.

“Nay, lady, for I have news to bring ye joy.”

The soldier reached down to hand a small bundle to Cat.

Hope was sleeping soundly and safe. She touched the baby's face immediately to feel that there was no fever.

“Nay, lady, she is well, and she is yours. As Douglas lay dying, he told me he kenned how much you love this babe, and as the sickness has so badly rent their clan, the other women have all they can do to take care of their own. Now I seek me bed, for I have not slept a full night in weeks.”

Cat turned to Roderic, and the look of joy in his eyes mirrored her own. He put his arms around them both.

“Look how she has grown! Oh, Roderic, I'm sorry they are dead, yet I am so happy she is home.”

“Aye, love. Thankful we must be that she and Glyniss have come back to us.”

And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make ye free.

~John 8:32

F
ather MacNair returned from the Gordon clan to reside with them for a short time. He planned to visit some of those who needed his help and encouragement.

Cat was sitting by the fire, humming softly to the baby when she was given an urgent message to go to Mary's cottage. She found the wet nurse to stay with Hope and went to fetch Roderic.

Nearing the stone cottages, they became concerned as there was a small crowd clustered around Mary's dwelling. A wave of apprehension swept through Cat as she made her way down the hill. Something was terribly wrong.

Reaching the dwelling, they pounded the door. Kenneth sat on a stool outside the stoop, his dusty face streaked with the tracks of his tears. They continued to flow while he rocked back and forth, and a low mournful sound emanated from the boy. He did not acknowledge them. Tobias, the old one with the weak leg, stood near with women and children.

“What's happened?” Cat urgently asked.

One of the women spoke timidly. “ 'Tis Mary's bairn. The priest is here.”

“The priest? Oh, no,” Cat said. She entered the cottage, Roderic but a step behind her.

Mary sat with her babe in her arms; the child was much too quiet. The priest stood on one side of Mary, his hand on her shoulder.

Edna was attempting to take the baby from its mother, the picture of tormented grief. She rocked the child as her tears spilled unto the blanket, unheeded.

“Father, forgive me. Ask God to spare her. She is my sweet lass, and she hasnae seen but two summers. I cannae bear it. If she dies, let me die, too!”

“Nay, lass. Dinnae think such thoughts. Pray for God's strength,” Father MacNair said.

“Mary, Angel, ye must let go. Let me take the child. Ye have not slept in two nights. If ye fall ill, what of your other child, Janet? She needs ye. Kenneth, too.”

Edna took the baby, and Mary collapsed in a heap of emotional exhaustion.

“No … no,” she wailed softly, a high keening sound. Father MacNair held her shoulders as she rested her face on the small wooden table near the hearth.

“Did someone fetch Glyniss?” Roderic asked.

Edna nodded. “Aye, she is mixing up a cure for the fever.”

The woman's voice dropped to a whisper. “She fears it is too late.”

The bairn coughed, a harsh barking sound.

Cat reached out to touch the child's chest and was alarmed at the heat she felt from the tiny body in the bundle.

Momentarily lost in thought, she whispered to herself, muttering softly. “The cough sounds like … croup. It's the croup. What was it Mama said … steam? “

“Brianna?” Roderic said.

She turned so quickly to face him, her long hair swirled over her shoulder.

“Steam! Boil some water in a large pot. Get several buckets. Edna, we need a few furs, or blankets. The baby needs to breathe in the moist air.”

Glyniss came to stand before them. She held a small cup in her hand.

“Can ye help the child?” Roderic asked.

“I will do my best, Sir Roderic. This be a weak tea of the mountain willow bark with some herbs. We cannae give the babe but a small sip. The fever is so great, if it dinnae break soon, I doubt the child will live to see the morn.” She spoke the last in a whisper, but still the young mother heard.

“No,” Mary said.

“We can try the hot water in the air and see if it will help the baby breathe. Please Glyniss, you have to do as I say. Trust me.”

Edna cuddled the bairn while she addressed the others. “I told ye we should have bled her.”

“Bleed her! No! You can't. It will weaken her even more. She needs all her strength!” Cat protested.

“Why do ye ken this steam will help?” Glyniss made an attempt to help the baby swallow small sips of the tea.

“I hope it will, but please, Glyniss, don't bleed her. It is folly to rob the body of blood that makes it strong. I only want to help the child, and I am not certain it will cure her. You may indeed be right. The babe may not live past the night … so where is the harm in trying? Please?”

“Brianna, ye may not think to be a healer, but ye speak true. I have used bleeding on grown men and women. Never have I seen it help the way some say it should. I willnae do it to such a tiny thing. Better she leave this world in her Mother's arms unmarked, if it be the will of God.”

Cat knew in her heart to tread carefully. The final say must rest with Glyniss. Those who already thought her bewitched would need little encouragement to accuse her, and if they could add the word of a healer, the claim would have further validation.

Roderic shook his head. “Why do you think hot water will help?”

“I don't think. I am sure of it. Trust me, Roderic, she will breathe better,” Cat said.

“It willnae do to give the mother false hope. 'Tis cruel,” Glyniss said.

“You are right,” Cat agreed. Kneeling down beside Mary, she struggled to gain the woman's attention from her weeping. “Mary.”

Mary raised her face, and there was bleak despair in her expression.

“I have a plan that may help your bairn. It is my hope that the hot water will help her breathe with more ease. I am not saying I can save her, but I want to try. Do you understand?”

Mary nodded. Cat went to boil water, and Roderic fashioned a pole in the middle of the room while they draped quilts around the pot. Mary dried her tears and seemed to find new strength, insisting on holding the baby while the others replenished the large pot full of boiling water.

Hours later Glyniss took the child, and Mary fell from the stool, utterly exhausted. Roderic carried her to bed, and the women helped make her comfortable. Cat held the baby and sat down near the water. The uncomfortable heat soon made her sweat profusely, but she sat and crooned to the baby, keeping her hand lightly on the little one's chest.

Roderic sat near the table. “You make a fine sight, Lady Montwain.” His brown eyes bathed her in admiration.

Cat smiled wryly. “I fear I am not fit to be near, in truth. I am beginning to smell.” She wrinkled her nose, wiped sweat from the back of her neck, and looked down at the child. Although the fever was still present, the child seemed to sleep deeply and the cough was not as frequent.

After an hour or so, Glyniss came and took a turn at holding the baby until she, too, was drenched in sweat. Cat fell asleep with her head on the table. When she awakened and looked about, she saw that Roderic was gone.

“Aye … little one. Fight for life,” Glyniss said. She looked up at Cat. “This child is stronger than we thought.”

“Where is Roderic?”

“He left a bit ago to see to his men. The priest and I can handle the buckets alone. Ye were sleeping, so he decided not to disturb ye. I must say, lady, that mon, English or no, is full of compassion.”

“Aye. He is that,” Cat said.

“Tell me, be that why ye stay? Ye care for him?”

“Do you wish to be rid of me?”

“Nay, but, if ye wish to run home to your own, ye could slip away,” Glyniss said.

“But … I have no place to go,” Cat replied.

Glyniss said nothing as she rocked the child for a moment, pondering Cat's words. Finally, she spoke. “No fault in wantin' a better life as a fine lady. If ye wish to be known as one of the high born, best ye act a bit more selfish. Not many who could be restin' in a fine castle would fash themselves about a poor woman's babe. Ye see how chafing it be to live with lies?”

Cat sighed. “I know you are right, Glyniss. Still, I thank you for keeping silent.”

“Ye must tell them all, and soon, or I will,” Glyniss said.

Cat folded her arms about her and sighed. She was trying to think of a way to tell Roderic the truth, and decided once again to trust Glyniss. “Catherine.”

“What say you?” asked Glyniss.

“My name is Catherine.”

Glyniss huffed under her breath with an amused snort. “May ye have peace, Catherine. Dinnae be so fearful; Sir Roderic willnae toss ye aside.” She stroked the babe in her arms, touching the child's chest. “We have done well, the child is resting better. But, I can think of many a finer way to spend a night. I am sweatin' like I be in the fires of hell.”

“You don't really believe it helpful. Why did you not oppose me?”

“Ye kept Mary busy boilin' water, pourin' it in a pot, making the tent. All these things are better to ponder for a young mother than watchin' her bairn die,” Glyniss said.

Cat sighed and shook her head sadly.

“Why do ye care? These aren't your people.”

Cat was too tired to think of a better answer than what was in her heart. It was something Merlin had said. “I'm needed here.”

Father MacNair stepped up behind her. “Aye, lady. And ye are no witch.”

“They have spoken to you of this?”

“Aye. I must ask you. Do ye love God?” Cat spoke emphatically. “Yes.”

“Do you serve Him? “

“Yes,” Cat said.

“Is that enough for ye, Father?” Glyniss asked, her tone demanding.

“Aye,” Father MacNair said.

“So be it, then. Dinnae speak of foolishness born out of ignorance and fear. Do ye know how many healers are burned as heretics for tryin' a new way of helpin' others? Bah! If it would save this child I would try anything, yet there are those so quick to see devils around every post they try to make healin' the church's business. 'Tis not! Amen, I said it! Mayhap that makes me a heretic, too!”

Father MacNair smiled. “Nay, Glyniss. Ye are but outspoken and headstrong.”

“I'm glad you believe me, Father,” Cat said.

They fell silent, and soon Cat could no longer stay awake. The small cottage was alight with the first warm glow of sunlight when Mary awakened her, gently shaking her shoulder. Mary held her baby girl, and the child was awake.

“How is she?” Cat asked. Reaching out to the baby, Cat felt the soft skin; it was still warm to the touch.

“She is much better. After ye went to sleep, Glyniss put a poultice of onions on her chest. It was not long she coughed up the tea, but her chest is mending, and the steam did help her to breathe.”

“Oh, Mary, I'm so glad.”

“The fever is much better. I do so thank ye, Lady Montwain. Glyniss said she willnae forget your treatment for other bairns, and she has promised to stay with me until my Hannah is well.”

Cat heard the muffled sound of angry voices outside the cottage.

“Sir Montwain is here. He is outside, and there be some trouble,” Mary said.

Cat stood and turned to the door, throwing on her cloak.

Roderic stood outside, four of his soldiers beside him. Tobias and several women of the clan argued before him. One of the women began to shout.

“There! She's evil! She must be burned to cleanse us all!”

“There will be no more talk of it! I've come to take my wife to the keep so she may rest. She's had little sleep helping with the sick child. You all go back to your cottages!” Roderic said.

“English fool! Ye be blind to her wiles! Mary's babe should be dead! Did she use her spells to save it? We heard of it! Boilin' water like the fires of hell for a child to sit near. And she wanted the Gordon babe! They took the child from her and ended up dead for their trouble!”

“Enough!” Father MacNair said as he shouldered through the group of soldiers.

“Why do ye judge this woman so? She wasnae casting any devil's spells! She was a help, and so was the poultice Glyniss made. The child is better, though there still be fever. Mary needs ye one and all to be an aid, not a hindrance. The child is ill, and Glyniss will do all she can to help, but this lady is not wicked. Ask the healer.”

Cat watched Tobias at the head of the crowd of women. He leaned heavily on a wooden crutch made from a tree, supporting a leg bent and crippled, and he sported a scruffy gray beard. Thin, his eyes a bright blue, he watched Roderic suspiciously, then suddenly met her gaze. Cat took a deep breath and raised her chin defiantly.