Unquiet Dreams (5 page)

Colburga pushed open the wooden door that kept the cave snug and dry. The fire-hardened wood, greased with sheep fat, swung open silently and easily. It was convenient having your own forge, ready any time in an instant and without wood. The young woman straightened without even thinking of it as she strode down the path, throwing on the mantle of sorceress as quickly as she removed it within the cave. She stepped through the stone archway at the end of the path, formed long ago by falling rock, and felt the thrill of anticipation. What herbs or magic would the desperate folks need today? No one came up to the cave unless they were really desperate. If there was no pressing need, they would see her on market days and make their purchases. No, this was likely to be a more serious illness and desperation meant good money.

She was somewhat disappointed to see a small child sitting on the bench by the bell, her short legs dangling with a methodic rhythm. It was no good. A child meant either a time waster or a charity case. Colburga had to draw the line there—the only charity she supported was herself. There just wasn't room in life for a soft heart, as she too well knew. She could feel the frown drawing the corners of her mouth south as she walked toward the bench.

"No time wasters," Colburga grumbled to herself but loud enough, she hoped, for the child to hear. It was a girl of maybe six or seven, eight if she was small for her age, reddish blonde hair trapped in two long plaits down her back. She hopped off the bench and turned to meet the healer. Colburga leaned back in surprise as she met two of the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She'd seen all kinds of blue eyes from stormy grey-blue to pale winter sky blue, but never this kind of shiny blue bird-egg color.

"Hello," the girl said looking up gravely at Colburga's close scrutiny.

"Hello, little girl. What brings you up to see me?" Colburga said back, forgetting for a moment her promise to be curt.

"I need your help," the child continued, bringing the sorceress back to business.

'Well, tell me what it is. I haven't all day, and I don't do anything for promises of later payment. What is it?"

"Father Wulfraed says we need dragon's blood. I've come to fetch it."

Colburga had a thought that the child was going to simply hold out her hand and expect it to be filled. Dragon's blood! Who in all Kent would suggest such thing? There were few who knew of the herb, fewer yet who knew what it was for. Or could they really have thought she had the real thing? "Father Wulfraed?"

"Father Wulfraed from the abbey," the little one continued, as if all the wide world knew his name. Colburga did not, though she had often had commerce with most of the abbey folk and knew a good many by name. This was all getting off on the wrong foot, threatening to run down a useless path that would make neither of them any money.

"Why does the monk say you need dragon's blood?"

The grave little face became even more solemn. "Mummy's dying, and Father Wulfraed said that only dragon's blood would save her. Please, do you have some?"

Colburga's eyes narrowed. It could be a lucky guess, or it could be a trick. The herb with that name came from the far east and was unbelievably expensive. She had seen some once in the abbey. Why would a monk or friar suggest coming to her? Her herb selections were great, and the concoctions well-made (if only she said so), but they had their own dragon's blood and didn't go for foolishness like dragon's tears themselves. "Are you sure it wasn't dragon's tears he requested, child?"

The girl shook her head decidedly. "No, dragon's blood. Father Wulfraed said they had an herb called dragon's blood in the botanica, but what we need is real dragon's blood. And everyone knows you have a dragon."

Everyone hopes, you mean, Colburga thought to herself, otherwise they're all rooked. Chance would be a fine thing—there wasn't one real tear in the bunch. But the bottles are very nice, she reminded herself, each one a unique dragon-forged handicraft. People got something nice for their money, which was more than she could say for the creature's blood. One drop of that and a person would burn from the inside. "Dragon's blood is very expensive," she told the girl, trying to ignore the imploring look and the neatly mended tunic with its tiny, even stitches. "Dragon's don't like to give up their blood, for one thing, and no one wants to do the blood letting, for another. Would you walk up to a dragon and say, 'Here dragon, I'd like to have some of your blood, please?' Do you know what a dragon would do?"

The girl shook her head and the braids flapped on her shoulders.

"Set you on fire," Colburga said, nodding sagely. "That's why it's so expensive. Kings have come here," she added, warming to the story-telling now. "Queens, too, with pots of money and lots of cows. Begging me to sell them some dragon blood. You know what I told them?"

The girl shook her head again, too dazzled by the yarn to realize where this was leading.

"I told them 'go away, get out of here.' It's just not worth my while to burn myself like a forgotten loaf just to get a few drops of dragon's blood." Colburga folded her arms. "What could you pay, that the finest of nobles could not, eh?"

To her surprise, the girl smiled. "Me!"

"What?"

"Me," the girl continued. "I will bond myself to you as your slave. You can send me to get the dragon's blood, Father Wulfraed said so."

Colburga realized she must make quite a picture then with her mouth flung open like a toad's. "Father Wulfraed said…?"

Again an eager nod. "He said you could teach me and I could fetch dragon's blood for you and be so very helpful and Mummy would live and everything would be well." The little face glowed now, the egg-blue eyes so bright a passing magpie might seek them for treasures. Colburga stared at them for as long as she could.

"Wait here," was all she said in the end, before turning to pad back up to the cave.

The dragon had not moved. "What was that all about," the creature said crossly, if a little sleepily. "You were out there for so long."

"I need to go to the village," Colburga said by way of answer, grabbing her large basket of herbs, and checking to be sure there was a good amount of maythe in the bottom. "There's something weird going on."

 "Weird how?" the dragon asked as she yawned and lay her scaly head upon a blanket, stretching her wings before refolding them to her satisfaction.

"A child was sent up here to fetch some dragon's blood," Colburga said, tossing some dried nettles into the basket as well. The dragon blinked in surprise, but her heavy lids soon fell and she was asleep before Colburga made it out the entrance again. She threw her wool cloak over her shoulder for the walk back up.

The child still waited expectantly. "Are we going to get the dragon's blood now?"

"No," Colburga said, taking her hand, "We're going to see your mother."

***

The woman was definitely ill. Her skin was pale and yellow, cold and clammy to the touch. She was so deeply asleep—or feverish, Colburga thought grimly—that she paid no attention to the healer's hands probing her flesh, touching this pulse point or that, peeking at the whites of her eyes. The girl followed her every movement eagerly, but did not interrupt with a lot of questions. An amazingly well-raised child, Colburga could not help thinking it a compliment to the woman who lay prone before her, as much good as that would do her.

"How long has your mother been ill?" Colburga asked the child as she continued to knead the hand of the woman.

"A few days," the child answered, looking thoughtful, "Since the Saint's day."

"Are you sure?" If so, this was bad indeed.

The girl nodded. "We were walking back from the church and Mummy began to feel weak. We had to stop at Elene's to rest and she had so much food she made sure we had some to take with us but when we got home Mummy lay down and she has been up very little since then. I even brought her a bucket and she has hardly used it." The child held it up for Colburga's inspection.

If I needed anything else to tell me, here it is, Colburga thought, staring at the bucket's tar-black contents. Poison; there was no doubt about it. But how?

"What's you name, child?" she asked to give herself time to think.

"Hild." She smiled up at Colburga, confident that an adult would be able to set things right, especially a sorceress.

"Hild, did your mother eat anything unusual at the Saint's day mass?"

The child furrowed her little brows to consider the question carefully. Her solemnity was so droll, Colburga had to hide a smile. "We had some bread before we went to hear the stories."

"But nothing else?"

"No." She sounded quite certain. "Mummy spoke with Father Wulfraed aside as she always used to do with Father Edmund before."

"You mean for confession?" Colburga asked.

Hild nodded. "But she didn't stop to talk with anyone else, because Mummy said we needed to go home, so we came straight away."

Puzzling. Such a poison would have to been taken only a short time before illness set in. Perhaps one of the other women had been envious and slipped her something when the child did not see. Looking around their tiny home, it was hard to believe anyone could envy their lot, but it took very little to provoke it sometimes. Although she now lay pale and drawn, Hild's mother was certainly a very pretty woman who might catch a husband's eye and a wife's wrath. Of course the important thing was to turn the tide of poison, if it could still be done. The yellowness of her eye and the purple of her nail were not good signs, yet Colburga could but try. She had her reputation to live up to anyway. Her success may be attributed to the exquisite bottles of dragon's tears, but it was her skill as a healer that kept her reputation intact.

"Have you some wood for the fire?" It appeared that the kitchen hearth had lain cold for days. What had the child been eating?

Hild ran over to the corner, picked up a few sticks of kindling and handed them over dutifully. Colburga frowned. These bits would not begin to get the water warm, but they didn't have time to go search for wood now. She reached over to fish through her basket to find a couple of sceatta. "Take these coins to one of your neighbors and ask them to give you some wood." Hild ran off at once. Colburga busied herself selecting herbs while her eyes kept straying over to the prone body of Hild's mother.

Someone had poisoned this woman. Someone had poisoned this woman, who by all appearances had nothing. That was the strange thing, Colburga thought, admit it. Kings were poisoned, bishops, queens, reeves even—but poor mothers with a little child and no husband to protect them? It seemed absurd.

Hild was back within a quarter hour, arms laden with a hasty assemblage of sticks and a single log that threatened to topple her tiny frame. "They wanted to know where I got pennies and I told them the dragon lady!" In no time the fire roared and the cauldron began to warm. Colburga showed Hild the order in which to add the herbs to the pot. "I know Father Wulfraed would not like this, but before you add each one, remember to say 'Praise Nerthus' by way of thanks." What the good father didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "I'm going to go to the abbey to get some wine and honey," she told the child. "We'll need them for the healing. Keep an eye on the pot and don't let it come to a full boil. Can you shift it off the fire if you need to?" Hild nodded vigorously, and Colburga left her watching the pot with intense gravity.

Poor kid, Colburga thought as she quickened her pace toward the abbey. Well, no doubt the monks would give her a good home if things continued as they were. The walk to the abbey seemed far too long tonight. Brother Oswald was at the gate with his jolly grin, but his mood darkened as he quickly grasped the gravity of her request and trotted off to find Abbot Ælfric. "He's probably in the scriptorium, catching the last of the day's light," he assured her. She sat on the visitor's bench to watch the other monks pass to and fro. It seemed to be between the regular hours of prayer, those regular intervals when the bells would ring out across the meadows, sometimes even—when the wind was right—up to the entrance of the cave.

Colburga was impatient, so it seemed much longer than it was until the Abbot arrived, trailed by another monk with a large missal and some scraps of parchment held before him. The Abbot greeted her warmly and introduced his compatriot. "This is Father Wulfraed, lately returned to us from Canterbury. I sent Oswald to fetch some wine and honey, but do you have enough horehound?"

She nodded to the Abbot and had barely taken in the other monk when he finally looked up from his responsibilities. When he did, her heart leapt up in her throat.

His eyes.

That blue, shiny blue, impossible blue, bird-egg blue that Hild had—it was there, too. His perfunctory smile of welcome did not reach the eyes. The look that gave the child a breathless innocence, here took on the coldness of a predator. "Recently returned?" she finally croaked, her throat still too full of her fluttering heart. He was the one who recommended dragon's blood to the child. Perhaps it was not an idle suggestion.

The abbot clapped a companionable hand on the monk's shoulder before he answered her. "This was before you came here, Colburga—maybe five years ago, yes, Wulf?"

"Seven," he answered with a smile as toothy and sharp as his namesake. "I hated to leave such a welcoming home."

Colburga felt a chill move through her. Was she only imagining it? But he must have overheard what she had come for and known she was attempting to turn the poison. If it were he who— but how could she prove such a thing? Brother Oswald came returned just then with a brisk step, a bottle of wine and a pot of fresh honey, handing them over with haste and a blessing.

"Is there anything else you need?" the abbot asked with a frown, as if he were sure he had forgotten something. Father Wulfraed's frown spoke of plans foiled—or did it? Colburga cursed her sudden certainty. Eyes, that's all she had, eyes. Blue, blue eyes like she had never seen—but now she had seen them twice in one day.

She said, "I have everything I need now. I'll do what I can, the rest is out of my hands. The All-father will save her if she is worthy," she added, knowing the words would placate the monk.