The Knight and The Healer: A Medieval Romance (3 page)
Read The Knight and The Healer: A Medieval Romance Online
Authors: Lorna Benson
Mal was eager to get out of bed and back to work. He found, to his dismay, he was quite a bit weaker than he expected.
"Damn, Beth. This is ridiculous. I can't believe this. I am weaker than a kitten."
"Well, we can start with eating your meals downstairs in the commons area. Sir Paul would enjoy your company and it is just about dinner time now. Judging from the reception you got when we arrived here, many people would like to see you up and about. It’s just you've lost a tremendous amount of blood and it will take a while for your body to replace it. Plus, that chest wound while it is healing, will take, at least, a fortnight before the pain will be all gone."
"Great, then. Would you have my aide-de-camp bring me suitable attire?"
"I will and I'll let the kitchen know you will be joining Sir Paul for dinner."
* * *
In about a half hours' time, Mal was dressed and ready to go. He confessed to being "a little light-headed" but otherwise good. The meals sent to his rooms had been appropriate for an invalid but not for a robust knight on the mend.
As they wound their way down the stone stairs, Mal did find it necessary to rely on Beth for balance. As they entered the common area, many were gathering for the evening's meal. The large hall was dominated by a huge fire-pit in the center. A fire was burning brightly, with the smoke rising to vents in the ceiling.
The room's central feature was a long, elevated table along the west wall clearly intended for the privileged. Each diner at that table sat in individual chairs. Soldiers, knights, families and other castle residents ate at a series of benches running perpendicular to the main table. The benches were fully occupied. After each meal, the benches would be stacked against the east wall until they were used as beds during the night.
Servants were busy bringing trenchers loaded with food and tankards from the kitchen.
When Mal entered the room, he was immediately greeting with warm applause. He blushed slightly and waved. Beth escorted him to the far end of the head table where Sir Paul and Lady Margaret were seated. Two chairs had been cleared to Paul's right, one for Mal and one for Beth.
When they arrived at the table, Paul walked around the table and embraced Mal. "You've been sorely missed, brother. I am delighted you are here. And, compliments to Lady Elizabeth, for the efforts she put forth in saving your ornery self."
A servant approached the two with a pitcher of warm water. The couple washed their hands and dried them with the table cloth as was tradition.
The food was served on the trenchers, large round pieces of bread with two servings on each piece.
Mal used his dagger from his belt, neatly sliced the trencher in half and slid Beth's portion in front of her. The Laird's table was served chicken and quail, a variety of cheeses including Grana and Gorgonzola, asparagus and beets.
Beth turned to Mal and said "Have you tried the chicken? How do they get it so juicy, it is wonderful? Do they eat like this every night?"
"Yes, pretty much. The cooks change the meats so some nights we have roasted beef and other nights we might be eating lamb. In any event, the food is really good I think."
"Well, I could certainly get used to eating this way very quickly."
"By the way, don't eat the trencher. The cooks collect it after dinner and give it to the poor who gather at the kitchen door every night." Mal advised.
Dinner was delicious and Mal was excited to be reunited with his friends and brothers. But, as the night wore on, he was really starting to feel the effects of his prolonged confinement and the wound itself. He was worried about his abilities to carry out his official duty as Castellan or castle protector.
Beth turned to him and said "I think it's time for you to go back upstairs. I can give you something that will help you relax and take away the pain. Shall we go?"
They made their excuses and made their way toward the stairs. As they approached the stairs, Lady Celia arose from a nearby table and strode up to the pair. "Sir Mal, my dear friend, how are you feeling? They are keeping you hidden, it seems."
"Doing much better, thank you," Mal responded and felt Beth squeezing his arm and pushing him forward.
They reached his room without further incident. Mal staggered back to his bed shedding his fancy clothes as he moved.
Beth closed the door behind him and quietly latched the lock. She turned and joined Mal at his bedside. She wondered what she was doing.
Mal was damp from the exertion. Beth leaned over and brushed his hair away from his forehead. "I know you have heard this many times, Mal, but you are an exceptionally good looking man." She leaned over and delicately kissed him on his lips. She was not prepared for what happened next.
She felt a thrill running from her breasts to the tender spot between her legs. In her whole life, including her married years, she had never felt this thrill before. She felt her cheeks blushing. She sat back from Mal, hoping what had happened to her was not known to him.
"Whoa, what just happened?" he stammered.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that!" she blurted.
"I wondered which of us would be first to do that," he smiled. "Its been on my mind since I opened my eyes and first saw you. I wasn't sure I hadn't died and you were some angel," he teased.
He reached around her and pulled her onto the bed. With his arm around her and her lying beside him, he leaned over and kissed her with passion.
It felt like some powerful shock moving through her body, thrilling her as it went. Oh, my god, she thought, what is going on. I've never felt this way before. I am actually craving his body. She felt his hand on her breast, a breast no man had touched in three, long years. He was gently squeezing it.
It was time to kiss him again, and she initiated it. Her kiss triggered the same response as her first kiss had.
There was a knocking at the door. Startled, Beth jumped from the bed, hastily arranging her smock. She unlatched the door and opened it.
"Lady Meg, is something the matter? You seem flushed."
"No, Paul and I just wanted to see how Mal fared in his first outing."
Mal shouted from the bed. "Never better, never better."
"Well, Mal, you looked quite stressed by the end of dinner. You must have great recuperative powers because you look quite well now."
"Blame it on Beth, she has magic powers, you know."
"Don't joke that way, Mal. We surely don't want anyone suspecting her of witchcraft."
"Seriously, I do feel good and I am looking forward to spending more and more time out of this cursed bed. Right, Beth?"
"I am pleased with your progress, Mal. When I come tomorrow, we can do more. But, for now, it is sleep for you and bed for me as well. Do you need more poppy seed elixir to help you sleep?"
"I don't think so, so I bid you a good night."
Meg and Beth left together. As they walked toward the main hall, Meg took Beth's elbow and said "I think Mal has plans for you. He loves the ladies, you know. Just be forewarned."
Lady Celia was livid. Her face was scarlet and she was literally stamping her feet.
"What on earth is the matter?" asked Thea.
"Lady Margaret sent me a message before the meal. She wants me to vacate my seat next to Mal at meals so that bitch Elizabeth can be close to him 'for observation purposes'. I've invested too much time getting Mal close to proposing to let that slut get in the way. There is no way she going to upset my plans. I'll be damned before I let that happen.
"Well, what can you do about it? As his healer, she can be with him whenever she wants."
"I do have a plan but first I have to swear you to secrecy.
"Come on, we've been friends for years. Of course, I swear."
"What if some kind of accident befell her, maybe even a fatal one? I've given this considerable thought. She often goes into the woods to gather herbs for healing, but she never goes alone. But, a better chance at her is when she takes her Saturday morning trip to visit her Uncle. I think one of the squires goes with her. What if she was accosted by "thieves"? I need to find somebody who thinks she's a witch, or if not, someone who could be enticed by some other reward." She looked carefully at Thea. "I wonder if your brother might know someone willing to help me? He runs with a rough crowd."
There is no question last night the kisses after dinner had shaken Beth. She had tossed and turned all night. This kissing and those feelings seem wrong on so many levels. First, it stirred feelings she had never felt before. What was that about? During her brief marriage, passion was not an issue.
The age difference was significant. David was 26 years older than she when the arranged marriage was held.
Sir David rarely visited the marital bed. When he did, he was usually drunk and totally focused on his own pleasures. Sex with him was uncomfortable, even painful on occasion, but, fortunately, very brief. She had learned, after his death, he had a mistress whom he saw regularly. He only used Beth for his sexual pleasures when he was too drunk to go elsewhere. This experience did little to cause sex to be much more than a burden.
In fact, Beth had never experienced sexual pleasure until with Mal last night and that was only from kissing. Her feelings about that were all jumbled in her mind. Her first concern was the healer-patient issue. Beth felt Mal's attention toward her was largely a result of her being his healer and not directed toward Beth as a woman. He barely knew her.
Second, Lady Meg had warned her to be on guard against Mal because of his reputation as a wanton womanizer. He was a knight, a very good looking man and single. There was no shortage of women from all classes willing, even eager to bed him. She had experienced the heartbreak of infidelity with her husband.
Third, Mal was a knight. He practiced a very dangerous profession and she had endured the agony of widowhood before. She did not want to have to worry, every time Mal left home. It just wasn't worth it. These considerations made Mal a very poor candidate for any kind of lasting intimate relationship.
So the next morning as soon as she entered the room, Beth addressed the issue. "What happened last night, the kissing I mean, just cannot happen again. I somehow got carried away for a minute and I apologize. The very last thing I want is a man in my life. My practice is building nicely and I want to devote my full attentions there. I've been married and married life holds little charm for me so, if those are your thoughts, forget them."
"Whoa, stop right there. You are pretty naive or maybe presumptuous if you think a kiss or two is going to lead to my marrying you. I have not a whit of interest in tying myself down to a wife, however, attractive she may be."
"Okay then, that's settled. Let's examine the wound."
Mal shucked his loose smock, once again revealing his broad chest, the muscular shoulders, his flat stomach and his well-developed genitalia. Beth felt a warm rush in her chest, she blushed. She suspected he was taunting her intentionally. She quickly checked the gash, it was healing well, no sign of infection.
"You are healing well, so get dressed now. She said as she turned away. "When you are dressed, we're going on an outing." Your dizziness while rising or even during light exertion troubles me. You need more time on your feet. I'll step outside while you dress."
"Come on, Beth. That is hardly necessary. You've seen everything I have to offer so there certainly is no need for modesty now."
Sir Paul had assigned a senior squire and a page to accompany Beth on the trip to see her uncle. Reginald was the squire's name. He was about two years away from completing his seven-year apprenticeship as a Squire thus winning his Knight's spurs. He was gangly and very thin. Unfortunately, his face was pitted with acne.
Beth's uncle lived in Mossley, a village about twelve miles south of Klayloch. The travelers had arranged to leave at first light after meeting at the stables. Riding a horse was much faster than driving a wagon or cart so Beth chose to be horseback. She rode her own dun mare, "Sugar".
The first few miles leaving Klayloch were always the most difficult. The roadway was surprisingly narrow and somewhat rocky given the volume of traffic. The road weaved its way through the thick pine forests surrounding the Castle and on up a steep hill. It had rained heavily the night before, so Beth was quite aware of the damp smell of the woods and the mud underfoot.
After reaching the top, the trees thinned out and they came upon a rich pastureland. Beth was always impressed the large herds of livestock grazing near the roadway. It reflected the wealth of Castle Klayloch and its Laird.
On the trip to Mossley, the squire wasn't very talkative. Unfortunately, he seemed to be intimidated by her rank as Lady Elizabeth Duncan or perhaps he was just shy. This led to long periods of silence on the trail and what seemed to make a longer journey.
Still, Beth was looking forward to the trip. She hadn't seen her uncle, Sir Alfred de Roux, in a few weeks. He was her late mother's brother, a physician, now older and semi-retired.
He contributed (secretly) to teaching Beth more sophisticated treatments to use in her healing practice. Like all university-trained physicians, he was required to take an oath limiting his practice to royalty and the other aristocratic families. His reputation had caused his practice to grow considerably and he was frequently sought out to offer his opinions. Consequently, he had become quite wealthy over the years. Beth was his only living heir and he was devoted to her. He was quite frail and could no longer travel distances.
The village appeared on the horizon.
As they approached Mossley, a village of 1,000 souls, Beth's excitement grew. Sir Alfred's house was one of the grander homes. Reginald made his goodbyes, dropped her at the gate, and he and the page left for the barracks of Sir Paul's army where they would spend the night. They'd rejoin Beth for the trip back in the morning.
Behind the home was a rather large garden filled with plants of varying medicinal attributes. Sir Alfred was sitting in one of two chairs by his front door expecting her.
"Welcome, Niece. I am so glad you are finally here. You are looking very well."
Beth and Arthur embraced with a long hug and several cheek kisses. She noticed, during the hug, how much weight Arthur had lost. He was a short man, clean shaved and bald with a white fringe above his ears. His completion was ruddy. His hands and scalp showed a number of age spots. He was wearing a simple smock and sandals. He wore a jovial expression.
"Are you feeling okay? You've lost some weight since last I saw you, and you know, you don't have too much to spare."
"Well, frankly, I do feel a little off. But, then, seventy-six is quite a few years to be carrying."
"Are you doing anything about it?"
"I do take a spoonful of poppy seed oil to help me sleep. Beth, you know how important sleep is. That's one of our first rules of recovery. Come on in, Elspeth has cooked some wonderful trout I caught this morning. She will be delighted to see you."
Elspeth had been Arthur's cook and helper for more than 30 years. When Arthur's wife died, she stepped in to help and never left. No one ever knew if there was more to their relationship, but speculation was rampant.
After lunch of trout, tomatoes, and potatoes, Arthur and Beth went outside and sat in the two chairs overlooking the front yard.
"How goes your practice?" Arthur asked.
"My practice is steadily growing, thank you. I think my friendship with Sir Paul and particularly his wife Lady Margaret or Meg has given me some credibility. But, most of all has been my work on my most famous patient, Sir Malcolm McIvor.
"I was summoned about a fortnight ago. A squire came to my door near panic. He told me to bring my necessary kit and hurry. I grabbed my bag, Leah and I mounted my horse riding double and we were off. Apparently, some famous personage had been injured in an attack. It turned out to be Sir Malcolm or Mal as he insists I call him."
"He had suffered a grievous wound from a sword of some kind. He had a gash running diagonally from his left collarbone to his right hip. It was deep and he was bleeding profusely. Kneeling at his head, I subsequently learned, was the Laird Sir Paul McCaul himself."
"The bleeding was incredible, Mal was unconscious. Of course, the first order of business was to try and stop the bleeding. So I took sphagnum moss I had brought and stuffed it into the wounds. "The gash was pretty clean. The weapon that did it must have been quite sharp."
"Sir Paul speculated the weapon doing the damage was ' Intrepid', Sir Mal's famous broadsword. He said Mal kept it razor sharp. In any event, after several batches of moss, the blood began clotting naturally and stopped. It seemed to take forever, but it finally happened."
"To be honest, for the first hours, I thought he had been fatally wounded and would die soon. I told the spectators, many of whom were in tears, to start praying for if anyone needed prayers that night, it was Mal."
"Finally, I had done what I could in the field so asked Sir Paul if he could arrange transportation to the Castle."
"He instructed several of the knights and they constructed a makeshift litter. The knights gently lifted Mal onto it and we were off. I was too nervous to leave him untended, so I walked at his head with Sir Paul. Over and over again, Sir Paul kept asking me what was going to happen to Mal. Finally, I was exasperated and told him he was asking the wrong person because it was in God's hands now."
"There was no convenient trail so our path was directly cross country. We had to maneuver over fallen trees and through thick brush. The poor litter bearers had to trade off with their fellows--the work was too challenging even for fit men. I must confess I am not as fit as those knights and, by the end, I was exhausted and I was filthy."
"When we got back to the castle, they took Mal to a nice room with a bed and a fireplace."
"When we entered the large square in front of the keep, it was full of Mal's admirers. Word had apparently spread of our pending arrival. It is clear many people consider him a special person. After getting him up the stairs to his new room, Sir Paul's wife Lady Margaret told me to go home for a while. I did feel exhausted so I left Leah to fetch me it there was any change."
"So, I did return home to clean up, nap and check on my garden. I did try but I found I couldn't sleep. My thoughts were full of Mal and his wound. So, I gathered some of the items I thought I might need to attend to him and went back to the Castle.
"In his room, I began cleansing the wound with vinegar mixed with crushed mint. Had he been conscious, I'm sure I would have heard from him.
"I debated whether to stitch the wound together with catgut like you showed me or leave it. Since the wound was on his front, I assumed a wound that size should not be left to heal itself so I 'sewed him up' so to speak."
Elspeth had prepared the upstairs room for Beth as was her habit.
The next morning, as they gathered for breakfast, Sir Alfred said he wanted to discuss his treasure, a book titled "Causae et curae". It was written by a famous Nun, Hildegard of Bingen, in 1161.
As Hildegard gained practical skills in diagnosis, prognosis, and treatment, she combined physical treatment of physical diseases with holistic methods centered on "spiritual healing."
She had become well known for her healing powers involving practical application of tinctures, herbs, and precious stones. She combined these elements with a theological notion ultimately derived from Genesis: "all things put on earth are for the use of humans". She had gathered information from a number of ancient sources, including Greek and Arabic, plus her own extensive experiences as a healer and recorded them into a three-volume document.
"Causae et cura" catalogs forty-seven diseases according to causes, symptoms, and treatments. Hildegarde lists hundreds of plants, emphasizing medical and physiological theory as well as herbal treatments.
Sir Alfred had learned of the book while at medical school in Italy. Years later, when he had enough funds, he hired a scribe to go to her monastery and copy the work. The treatise is 300 chapters. It took the man six months to complete the task and at no small expense.
During Beth's visits, Sir Alfred and she would read from the parchments and discuss Hildegarde's ideas. Both Beth and Alfred had actually applied some of her formulas in creating medicines they used in their respective practices.
Now, sixty-five years after it was written, it still provided important information not broadly known. Given its value, Sir Alfred kept the manuscript in a locked box.