Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Brecc paced the short distance between the entrance to the great hall and a nearby tree before scouring the open area between the royal estate's buildings once more. A black cat skulking in the nearby shadows, a groom walking two horses toward the stable, a maid scurrying from the kitchen to the well with a bucket in hand, and three thegns talking loudly as they crossed to their quarters on the other side of the large square. There were people aplenty, but the one person he wished to see had yet to appear.

Turning on his heel, Brecc walked back to the large wooden doors. Releasing a tense breath, he rolled his shoulders and attempted to suppress his rising concern for Rheged. He had never seen his friend so weak. Not even the leg wound Rheged had received at the Battle of Wilton had laid him so low.

Helping Rheged reach his bed had been far more taxing than it should have been. By the time they'd reached the estate, Rheged had been unable to steer his mount unaided, and Brecc had been silently berating himself over persuading his friend to make the outing to the market ever since. He'd enlisted a stablehand to help him carry Rheged to his chambers and had left him dry-heaving over a bowl so that he could meet Aisley to claim the promised medicine.

Aisley. Her striking green eyes were unmistakable. Brecc shook his head slightly. It should have come as no surprise to learn that the girl who had gone out of her way to deliver medicine to her father had become a stunningly beautiful young lady who not only took note of those struggling around her but also offered her assistance. Brecc had thought on her occasionally over the years. He had known that the loss of her father in battle would affect her acutely, and that awareness had been uncommonly difficult to set aside.

The whisper of lightly running feet reached him, and he turned to see Aisley herself hurrying across the grass. His heart warmed at the sight. She was yet wearing her cloak, but the hood had fallen from her head, and her long, copper hair was flowing freely behind her. She had grasped a fistful of her light-blue gown in one hand and was holding up the hem—no doubt to prevent a fall. In her other hand, she clutched two small bags.

"I pray I have not kept you waiting long." She panted as she came to a stop before him. "My sister—" She bit her lip as though catching the words before they could escape. "I had hoped to be here sooner."

"It is enough that you have come now," Brecc said.

She raised the pouches, a short length of string, and a remnant of linen fabric. "I have brought wormwood and thyme," she said. "Tie the herbs in small linen bundles and place them in boiling water to steep. They will make a potent drink that should calm Rheged's stomach and allow him to rest."

Brecc took her offerings and eyed them uneasily. "I have no notion of quantities. Do I place everything you have given me in the fabric?"

She shook her head. "Cut the fabric before you begin. There should be sufficient for half a dozen doses. If he tolerates the first drink, offer him another before sundown. And another before you retire for the night."

Brecc shifted uncomfortably. He was more than willing to watch over Rheged and encourage him to take the treatment Aisley suggested, but he had no desire to follow up one error in judgment with another. "Encouraging Rheged to visit the market was a mistake on my part," he said. "I must not risk another." He hesitated. "His condition has worsened, and he needs someone well-versed in the healing arts to administer the herbs correctly."

She tilted her head to meet his gaze, and a crease appeared along her brow. "You realize that I am in no position to enter a thegn's bedchamber."

"Not as a noblewoman entering alone," he agreed. "But in the capacity of a healer, with me at your side, it could be done."

The crease along her forehead deepened. "It would be unseemly still. If someone were to come upon me—"

"I shall ensure that that does not happen."

"How?" Her mesmerizing eyes held his, and it suddenly became unaccountably difficult to think clearly.

"I cannot say exactly, but—" He broke off. There was no time for this. Rheged was waiting. "Forgive me. I should not have unduly pressed when you have already shown such kindness." He inclined his head. "I am in your debt." And then, with long, brisk strides, he started back toward the building that housed the thegns.

"Ealdorman Brecc."

At the sound of her voice, Brecc turned his head.

"If you remain in the room with us, I will come," she said.

Relief brought a smile to his face. "I am most grateful."

"We shall need hot water."

He nodded. "I guessed as much. I set a pot over the fire in his bedchamber. It should be at a boil by now."

Shutters covered the window to the bedchamber, shrouding the room in shadows. In the fireplace, flickering flames offset the darkness and the chill, and a large pot bubbled over the fire, sending steam up to the rafters.

Releasing the clasp on her cloak, Aisley slid it off her shoulders and set it across the back of a nearby wooden chair as Ealdorman Brecc approached the gentleman lying on the bed. A bowl sat on the floor. It was empty, but an imperceptible aura of illness hung heavy in the stale air.

She was a fool for being here. Common sense along with years of training told her that. Her mother would be aghast to know that she had entered a young thegn's bedchamber. And yet, Aisley could not shake the conviction that she was where she needed to be.

"Is he awake?" She spoke softly, not wanting to startle Rheged with her presence.

"I think not." Crouched at the bedside, Ealdorman Brecc placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and shook it gently. "Aisley is here, Rheged. She has brought the herbs that will help your stomach."

"Nothing will help," Rheged muttered.

"I think it might be worth putting her treatment to the test," Ealdorman Brecc said.

"Of course you do." Rheged rolled onto his back and tossed an arm across his eyes. "You do not need to imbibe whatever foul concoction she offers me."

"How do you know it will be foul tasting?"

"How do you know it will not?" Rheged countered.

Smothering a smile, Aisley unfolded the piece of linen Ealdorman Brecc had set on the wooden table in the corner.

"Do you have a knife I may use, sire?" she asked.

Rheged stiffened, his arm dropping from his face. "No blood-letting," he said with more vigor than he'd shown since Aisley had met him.

"Truly, Rheged?" Ealdorman Brecc handed her the dagger from the belt at his waist. "You are well on your way to convincing Aisley that you are a fearful mouse of a man."

"Rather that than a bleeding pig of a man."

Ealdorman Brecc raised an eyebrow. "Mayhap there is some fight left in you after all."

"No fight," Rheged said wearily. "Merely a modicum of self-defense."

"You have nothing to fear from me or Ealdorman Brecc's blade, sire." Aisley sliced the last piece of fabric into three small squares. "I am using the knife to create sachets for the herbs so that you may benefit from their curative properties without filling your cup with leaves."

Ealdorman Brecc rose to his feet and moved to stand beside her. "Show me," he said, "so that I may do it when you are no longer here."

With a nod, Aisley poured a portion of each of the herbs onto one of the fabric squares. Raising the corners of the fabric, she drew them together and tied the small bundle closed with a short piece of twine. "You see," she said, setting the sachet on her palm and holding it up. "It is not so difficult as all that."

"I believe you made it look far easier than it is," Ealdorman Brecc said.

"And she has yet to tell us how it will taste," Rheged mumbled.

Ealdorman Brecc tossed her an apologetic look, but Aisley was glad to see a spark of interest—no matter how small or petulant—in Rheged. She dropped the sachet into an empty goblet and crossed to the fireplace.

"I've heard tell that the worse the curative drink tastes, the more efficacious it is," she said, covering her hand with the rag lying on the hearth and reaching for the pot of boiling water.

"That sounds like a poorly framed justification for causing a man to feel more wretched than he did before," Rheged said as she poured the steaming liquid onto the sachet of herbs in the goblet.

Ealdorman Brecc placed his hands on his hips and glared at his friend. "I am of a mind to leave you here to wallow in your misery alone. You do not deserve this young lady's aid."

A flash of something that looked suspiciously like panic flickered through Rheged's sunken eyes. He attempted to raise his head and shoulders from the pillow, only to give up in defeat moments later. "As you see," he said. "I am fully dependent upon you both." He sighed. "It is a humbling position to find oneself in, but that is no excuse for rudeness. You have my apologies."

"Apology accepted," Aisley said, carrying the steaming cup to the bed. "I have seen illness and injury influence a person's natural disposition in a variety of ways. It is never pleasant for anyone." She glanced at Ealdorman Brecc. "When the herbs have steeped a little longer, this exceptionally foul-tasting liquid will be cool enough to drink. If you would be good enough to raise Rheged to a sitting position, I shall take charge of ensuring that he swallows the brew."

Rheged opened his mouth as if to object, but one look at Ealdorman Brecc's stern expression was enough to cause him to close it again. Aisley smiled. The soothing drink would be a pleasant surprise for the dejected gentleman.

Brecc was twice amazed. Not only had Aisley successfully persuaded Rheged to drink an entire goblet of her herbal tonic, but she had also done so with the patience of a saint. A few sips with lengthy pauses between had made the process painfully slow, but it seemed to have worked. Rheged had held the liquid down and was already showing signs of improvement.

"There," Aisley said, setting the empty goblet on the table. "That was not so terribly bad, was it?"

"No." Rheged cleared his throat awkwardly. "I daresay I have not been my best self since you arrived. I am grateful to you for assisting me regardless of my whining."

"I believe I have listened to a full year's worth in one day," Brecc said. "Which means you have expended your entire whining allotment until Twelfth Night a year from now."

Rheged chuckled. It was the first time he'd shown any hint of amusement in hours, and secretly, Brecc was immensely grateful to see it.

"I can make no such promise, but I shall attempt to finish off the day without complaint."

"A worthy—albeit meager—goal," Brecc said.

Aisley reached for her cloak. "It would be best if you kept to your bed and limited yourself to wormwood and thyme infusions until the morrow," she said. "As encouraging as it is to see your improvement, you must not overextend yourself too soon."

Rheged's hopeful expression fell, and he gave Brecc a knowing look. "Well played, Brecc. Well played."

Brecc grinned. He'd known Rheged for years. His friend lived for large, boisterous social events. There was little that would prevent him from attending a dance or feast. Except perhaps the admonition of a quietly spoken young lady who may well have saved his life. "I cannot imagine what you mean," he said.

"Forced to sit out this evening's festivities, and I am not permitted to complain even once."

"Why would you wish to attempt dancing when your legs have the strength of jelly?"

"Or eat roast venison and duck when I could have wormwood and thyme hot drinks?" Rheged asked. "It makes no sense whatsoever."

Aisley's lips twitched as though she were holding back a smile. "Do not be overly downhearted, Rheged. From what I was told when we arrived at the royal residence this morning, there will be plenty more feasting ahead. And I daresay you will enjoy it all the more for having missed it this night."

With a resigned sigh, Rheged leaned back against his pillow. "I hope you are right. And I also hope that Brecc is forced to dance in my stead. Knowing that he is doing something he dislikes so much will make my loss easier to bear."

Brecc shook his head in disbelief. Rheged was definitely returning to his usual self, and it was time to end this conversation before it became any worse. "Come, Aisley," he said, donning his cloak as he walked to the door. "I shall escort you back to your quarters, and we shall let this jester rest."

"You do not need to trouble yourself, sire. It is not far."

"I gave you my word that I would ensure that no one would question the time you have spent here," he said. "I intend to keep it." Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and glanced up and down the passage. It was empty. Turning his head slightly, he listened. No footsteps echoed off the flagstones. "Come," he repeated. "There is no one in sight."

Moving ahead, Brecc led her to the outer door. There were three servants in the courtyard, but they were intent upon their chores—running in and out of the kitchen with laden arms and seemingly no interest in anyone or anything else.

Brecc stepped outside. Dusk had fallen. The biting wind tugged at the edges of his cloak as he waited for Aisley to join him. "The weather has not improved since we were at the market, I fear."

She drew her hood over her head. "A good excuse to cross the courtyard quickly, then."

"Aye." That and removing her from the entrance to the men's quarters in a timely fashion.

They walked along the courtyard's perimeter, staying close to the buildings so as to glean a modicum of protection from the wind.

They passed no one, and when they reached the ladies' residence, Aisley stopped. "You have my thanks, sire. There is no need for you to go any farther. The bedchamber I share with my sister is just beyond this door."

"Will I see you at the banquet this evening?" he asked.

Her hood hid a portion of her face from him, but he caught her soft smile. "My brother has been talking of little else. He has heard wondrous things about the king's festivities during the week preceding Twelfth Night. He would not countenance me missing it."

"In that respect, your brother and Rheged are very much alike. Rheged has looked forward to all the food, dancing, and mummery for months."

"Which explains his despondency now," she said.

"Fleeting despondency is a far better state than the one he was in before you gave him of your herbs. He was gravely ill, and I had begun to worry that he might not recover."

"I am grateful that he responded so well to the treatment."

"Your father hoped you would continue to develop your gift for healing. I believe he would be very proud of what you accomplished this day."

She raised her head. "He ... he told you that?"

"He did. I spoke to him at length when I delivered the herbs you gave me before we arrived at Wilton."

"I ... I never knew if he received them. Wulfhere has shared very little of what happened then." She shrugged. "I was young, and he returned from the battle full of rage. I did not wish to anger him further by plying him with questions."

"It was a harrowing time that few would wish to revisit, but you may ask me anything you wish to know about the battle and the days immediately leading up to it. Unfortunately, I was not with your father when he died, but if I can answer your questions, I will do so."

To his dismay, her beautiful eyes filled with tears.

"That is most generous, sire."

"Brecc," he said. "I wish that you would call me Brecc."

"Brecc." She offered him a hesitant smile. "I should very much like to hear your memories of my father. Mayhap we can speak again before we each return to our homes."

"It shall be done." He inclined his head and took two steps back. "But now, you had best remove yourself from this inclement weather."

"Yes." She turned to reach for the door handle, but before she could grasp it, the door swung open.

"Aisley! Wherever have you been?"

Brecc studied the elegant woman standing in the doorway. Ealdorman Kendryek's wife had changed very little in six years. Her resemblance to her youngest daughter—who was currently standing at her elbow—was even more striking now that Diera was no longer a child. They both wore an air of refinement, but neither exhibited the aura of gentle kindness he recognized in Aisley.

"Good evening, Mother."

"Diera told me you raced out of your room hours ago carrying a goodly portion of the herbs we brought with us."

There was no hiding the accusation in the older woman's tone, but whether it was over Aisley's use of their precious herbs or her unexplained absence, Brecc could not tell.

"Someone in the castle was in need, and so I—"

"I am quite sure somebody in the king's household could have sent for a healer. You are a guest here. There was no call for you to become involved."

"That is true, Mistress Edla." Brecc stepped out of the shadows. "But your daughter was good enough to offer her assistance regardless."

"Ealdorman Brecc." Aisley's mother and sister dropped into hasty curtsies. It seemed that Kendryek's widow recalled who he was. So much the better. "Forgive me," she continued. "I did not see you there."

"I consider it a fortuitous meeting," he said. "I had hoped to express my thanks to you for sharing your knowledge of the healing arts with Aisley. You taught her well."

Mistress Edla appeared to stand a little taller. "Even as a child, she learned quickly."

Brecc was quite sure that was true. He was equally sure that Aisley's gift had been nurtured by a compassionate heart rather than merely an ability to memorize by rote. Now was not the time to make that distinction, however. If Aisley was to avoid her mother's censure, this was the time to appeal to the lady's vanity. "You have much to be proud of, Mistress Edla," he said. "Aisley's skills and timely intervention likely saved the life of one of the king's thegns. I daresay the king himself will wish to thank you when he hears of it."

At their next meeting, Aisley might accuse him of exaggeration, but Brecc was not beyond using either that or flattery. Besides, three hours ago, Rheged had certainly acted as though he were inching dangerously close to death. And King Alfred had always looked upon Rheged fondly. The monarch would surely be glad to know that his faithful warrior had recovered from so sudden and violent an illness.

"I am very glad to hear it." If Mistress Edla had been standing before a looking glass, she might have been accused of preening. Straightening her shoulders, she smoothed her hands down her dark-green gown and gave Aisley a pointed look. "If the king intends to single you out, Aisley, you had best be dressed appropriately. And as the banquet begins within the hour, you have no time to waste."

Aisley's mother had offered him the perfect reason to take his leave, and yet Brecc hesitated. Had he done enough to prevent Mistress Edla from putting Aisley through an inquisition after he was gone? He glanced at the young lady standing before her mother and sister. Her head was high, her expression composed.

"I am quite sure the king will be far more interested in the welfare of his warrior than on my choice of attire," Aisley said, "but if he should happen to speak to me, I shall be sure to tell him who guided me through the healing arts."

Mistress Edla tucked her arm through Aisley's. "I daresay he would be most interested to know such details."

Brecc smiled into the rapidly deepening darkness. It appeared that Aisley had picked up on his ploy to deflect interest from Rheged by appealing to her mother's conceit, and she was willing to utilize it herself. Mentally adding perceptive to Aisley's growing list of admirable qualities, he retreated another step. "If you will excuse me, ladies, I, too, had best prepare for the banquet."

"Of course." Mistress Edla inclined her head. "Good evening to you, Ealdorman Brecc."

"Ealdorman Brecc," Diera echoed, dropping into a small curtsy.

With her movement restricted by the position of her mother's arm, Aisley simply offered him a small smile. "Good evening, sire."

He bowed and turned away. If he hastened, he might have time to speak with the king or his adviser before the banquet began. A word in King Alfred's ear about Aisley's efforts this day might not be a bad thing after all.