Chapter 6

Sliding into the barrel of water, Aislin closed her eyes, letting its warmth soothe her tired muscles. Since Macha moved into the cottage, she hadn’t had a real soak; a habit picked up from her mother. Normally, today wouldn’t have been any different, but her grandmother and her apprentice were busy in the village.

With Aislin exhausted from being up most of the night making medicines, she had been ordered to stay at home. With the illness spreading throughout the village, once Aislin returned from her lunch at the castle, she would be needed in the evening but only if fully rested.

Since fretting about it served no purpose, Aislin sat back and enjoyed the warmth of the water. More importantly, she hoped it would remove the smell of the swamp. Unfortunately, the poor outer-dress she wore yesterday, now soaking in a tub next to her, probably wouldn’t be so lucky. None of those outfits had any business being near a swamp, and if she continued to dress as a girl, she needed to take care of her clothes better.

“Continue to dress as a girl,” Aislin mumbled.

Looking down at her body, what did others actually see? A girl dressed in boy’s clothes or a boy dressed in girl’s clothes. Admittedly, she rather enjoyed the feeling of the silk and cotton on her skin. But it was more than that; she didn’t want to go back wearing her old clothes. Was it wrong that she preferred her mother’s clothes?

Although raised a boy, part of her looking like a boy, did that ever really make her a boy? Could she go back to the way things were before, and did she want to?

Unfortunately, as a male, her prospects were slim. Sons traditionally learned their father’s trade. The miller’s son became a miller. The wheelwright’s son became a wheelwright. Remaining sons would work for the oldest brother or become apprentices themselves.

Fatherless, a master would have to be willing to take her into their family. Plenty of second and third sons, boys her age had become apprentices, but no one seemed interested in her.

Did becoming one of the gentry change those prospects? Without patronage, joining a noble household would be impossible. Other positions, such as Bailiff, Seneschal, and Constable, always fell to the oldest son. Joining the King’s service as a Knight or officer, a popular place for second and third sons of the gentry, with her body was out of the question.

Slipping deeper into the water, Aislin concluded the dream of becoming a member of her mother’s relative’s household seemed just as unlikely. The Merchants she knew, all had a hard life, traveling over dangerous roads, moving heavy and bulky goods.

“Continue to dress like a girl.” She mumbled once again.

Would remaining a woman make her life easier? Funny thing, for one who supposedly raised as a boy, why did she have the skills needed to make a proper household. She could cook, clean, and mend clothes as well as her grandmother. But whether a noblewoman or commoner, she could never really be a proper wife.

Both Miles and Nevan, and for that matter, any male, would desire something that physically for her was impossible. No matter how much she entertained feelings for both Knights, she couldn’t give them what they desired most, heirs.

Thinking about Macha, the young woman grabbed her chest, plunging her head into the water. Wisewomen didn’t marry, and if things were different, she would have been happy to be Macha’s companion for life.

However, the half-person she was now, Aislin, couldn’t inflict that on Macha. Was it fair to her grandmother’s apprentice, that the person she wanted most wasn’t a real man?

Aislin had no prospects, no hope of them either. How would she provide for the two of them, could she even give her a child. Knowing enough about her body, Aislin knew it would never happen.

Would it have been too much to ask the gods to have made her a complete person? All Aislin could see before her was unhappiness. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if she just disappeared in the swamp.

Shooting out of the barrel, gasping for air, the Aislin stared at her wrists. Fine scars could be seen, only visible now because of the warm water. No, she refused to think such thoughts again, a promise from two years ago, she made to herself.

When Rowena fled, after discovering that the boy she planned to run away with had breasts, Aislin decided that life wasn't worth living. Later in the day, while lying in a pool of blood, Aislin looked up to discover her grandmother had returned from healing earlier than planned.

She could still remember the look of anguish on her grandmother’s face, making her realize what her death would have done to those that cared for her. Unwilling to inflict such pain again, Aislin promised to accept all the trials set out before her.

“Aislin.” A male voice called out, making her squeak in fright.

Leaping halfway out of the water, when the cold air brushed against her nipples, Aislin squeaked again. Plunging back into the warm water, she covered her breasts with her hands before calling out testily. “Nevan.”

There he stood on the other side of the cottage, his mouth open wide in shock. She had purposely set up the barrel of water in the back of the house, under the impression that with all that was going on, she might have some privacy. Obviously, she was wrong.

--0--

Sir Nevan spun around, his face flushed with embarrassment. However, the view of the young woman as she came out of the water, made whatever punishment he was going to receive worth it. It also settled some confusing questions.

When Miles declared that he planned to bed the young man, Nevan knew it would be best if he talked to Constable Sinclair first. The young Knight, unaware of any laws or customs concerning Wisewomen relatives that might cause problems, though it would be better to ask before Miles made a fool of himself. What came as a surprise, the Constable informed Sir Nevan there was an understanding between his father and Aislin.

When Nevan explained the situation, the old man thought at first that Miles intended to take Aislin as a squire. When informed otherwise, Constable Sinclair became confused. The older man had expected the boy to be a giant of a man taking after his father not small in stature like his mother.

“Make sure Sir Miles doesn't harm the boy. You may punish Aislin if he causes problems, doubtful, though, as he always sounded like a smart lad. Either way, I’ll have to report this to your father.”

After seeing Aislin in the Solar, garbed in all her finery, Sir Nevan thought the old Captain must be confused. The next morning, Sir Nevan met with him once more. This time, he insisted on meeting the young lad who obviously was dressing as a woman.

Riding from the castle, as the pair came into view, the Constable reigned in his mount. “By the goddess, Aislin's the spitting image of” Suddenly the older man started to laugh. “That fox. It seems I owe you an apology, Sir Nevan. Her father has outsmarted us again, even from the grave.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Doesn't matter, just confirms what I heard but didn’t think was true; should have known better.” The older man watched as Sir Nevan looked at Aislin fondly.

“You plan on courting her?”

“I believe so.”

The Constable nodded. “Fine looking women, your father isn't going to be pleased. Get your mother on your side first, but lad, don't expect your father to be happy.”

“Is there something I should know about Aislin?”

“Not my place to tell you; talk to your father when he returns. Still, you have good taste; by the gods of battle, what a fine looking woman.”

Sir Nevan agreed.

--0--

“I’m sorry, Aislin; I didn’t know you were back there.” The young man tried to apologize, but the wide grins and soft laughter of his men-at-arms didn’t help. Nevan did note; those men were wise enough to hide, letting him take the full brunt of the Lady’s wrath.

“Obviously, I was under the impression that Miles wasn't going to send a carriage until much later.”

“We have a situation up at the castle.” Sir Nevan said, starting to turn around but stopped himself.

“The fever?” Aislin silently cursed. If it had already spread to the castle, the chances of it being the common summer ailment seemed slim.

“Yes, although I have had it twice, along with the armsmen I brought with me. So we should be safe enough.”

“I’m not positive it’s the same illness, Nevan.” The raven-haired woman leaned forward, frowning. With Mistress Olina, the Court Healer traveling with Sir Nevan’s parents, someone needed to go to the Keep.

“Sir Miles is sick as well,”

Aislin grumbled, of course, he was. “Let me get dressed.”

“I brought you a horse.”

“Oh, joy.” She said. Her bottom hadn't recovered from yesterday’s ride. “Nevan.”

“Yes, Milady.”

“I need to get dressed.”

“Yes.” The young Knight had not moved, not realizing what she was saying.

She sighed. “That means I need my privacy, take yourself and your snickering companions to the front room. I will be with you in a few minutes.”

More laughter burst from the other side of the cottage, as the young Knight with a half-smile on his lips, ordered his men to make a hasty retreat.

Entering the front room, in a time that surprised most of the men, Aislin set her grandmother’s bag across her shoulders. She had pondered for a few minutes what to garb herself in. Obviously, with most of her mother’s clothes, she needed Macha’s help to get dressed; however, one outfit, in particular, caught her eye.

She discovered an all-white outer-dress, belted and pulled over a kirtle but missing the usual tight lacing of a corset, which allowed it to be slipped on easily. Made from the same luxurious fabrics as her other clothes, the simple design allowed it to be worn comfortably on a campaign.

Thinking back, Aislin should have realized its significance in the trunk. If you included the white tabard, with silver trim adorned with a golden sunburst on the chest, a gold medallion, and silver chain belt of office, then you would have the complete attire of a King’s Healer. With the tabard and chain missing, and her mother’s medallion hidden, Aislin hoped no one would recognize the dress.

After wrapping a heavy gray cloak around her body, with Nevan’s assistance, she mounted the horse. Hooking her right leg around the pommel of the saddle, Aislin flattened out the skirt. “Before we go, I need to speak to my grandmother.”

A short distance later, she dismounted, meeting Ina at the front door of the village headman’s cottage.

“Aislin, do you think that outfit’s wise?”

“No.” She smiled and leaned forward. “The fever has reached the castle.”

“So I gathered,”

Ina noted, her grandchild had quite the escort. Sir Nevan’s presence had not gone unnoticed. Before Lord Kelvin’s son made himself known to the villagers at most once a year; now, with interested in Aislin, his appearance was becoming fairly common.

“You will be tired later, let Sir Nevan find you a place to sleep tonight in the Keep.”

“Why?”

“It will be safer.” Ina sighed. Unfortunately, her granddaughter needed protection from more than just the illness. Rowena’s mother hadn’t stopped causing problems for her in the village, spiteful woman.

“Has…?” Aislin caught her breath. The Summer Fever rarely killed anyone, only those already sick or the very old.

“No, but it’s only a matter of time. Everyone we thought we healed falls ill again the next day. “

Aislin looked at her grandmother for a second and then reached up with two hands cupping her face. “Let me look at your eyes.”

Ina tried to turn away; she was thrilled and sad how perceptive the child had become.

“You have it.” Stunned, the young woman dropped her hands. A Wisewomen getting ill was almost unheard of. Almost she thought to herself, remembering her mother.

“Gran, you know this is not the Summer Fever.”

“Yes, I know. At this point, all we can do child is make people comfortable and let the malady run its course. However, with the way things are now, the entire village will be sick in the next few days.”

“How is Macha?” Aislin looked around, hoping to catch a view of her grandmother’s apprentice.

“She is busy working, as you should be.” Ina knew if she told her grandchild that Macha fell ill, she would insist on staying.

“Tell her…”

“I know child, now be off. They need you up at the castle.”

Before Aislin left, she found the headman’s wife standing at the front door of the cottage. After viewing Sir Nevan and his man of arms, the woman curtseyed. “Lady Aislin.”

Feeling uncomfortable at the display, she asked. “How is Rowena?”

“I’m afraid she is not feeling well, Milady,” Seara said, without sounding too worried about the health of her daughter.

“If she is sick, let me…”

“Thank you, Lady Aslin; I will pass a message on to her about your concern. I’m sure you have much more pressing things to do today.”

Aislin wanted to protest but also didn’t want to cause any problems. Hugging her grandmother, she walked back to her patiently, waiting for escort.

Mounting once more, she whispered. “May the gods protect you all.”

--0--

Aislin stood over the ill Knight, touching his face with her hands. After entering the Keep, she had quickly taken control, much to Sir Nevan’s delight. The illness had started in the barracks the day before but had already spread to the servant quarters by day’s end. When the sun came up this morning, half of the Keep had come down with the fever.

Withdrawing her hands from the Knight’s face, Aislin frowned with concern; no wonder her grandmother and apprentice had insisted that the illness was the Summer Fever. Through her healing senses, she could feel its familiarity but also its differences.

“Aislin, why are you here?”

The young woman smiled as Miles opened his eyes. “So, you don’t get sick?”

The Knight grumbled. “Not often, sorry.”

“For what?”

“Getting sick.”

Aislin smiled. “If you get better, I’ll forgive you.”

Mistress Gillian, ordered to help Aislin, had watched the gentlewoman with interest. Twenty years ago, a wife of a soldier on campaign, she had spent most of her time assisting the Kings Healers.

At first, she didn’t understand why the young woman, who Sir Nevan had been courting, had been summoned to heal the sick members of the Castle. However, as Lady Aislin entering the Great Hall, dressed in white with a healer’s bag across her shoulder; the older women felt a sense of relief.

Thinking the young woman too young to be a King’s Healer, she watched Lady Aislin as she worked. By the time she entered the sick Knight’s room, Gillian had no doubts about the woman’s identity. What she didn’t understand, why didn’t Sir Nevan inform the castle that Lady Aislin was one of the King’s Healers?

Not that she ever understood the motives of nobility; they were all a little daft. If Lady Aislin didn’t wish the honors, then it was not the business of a servant to point it out. Mentioning it in passing to one of the other women, Gillian realized the news quickly spread throughout the castle. It seemed to have a positive effect. Lady Aislin now had more people willing to help than she knew what to do with.

“Gillian, can you take me to Mistress Olina’s workroom.” Aislin was surprised that a small army of women followed her, all under the supervision of the older servant. From her questions, she knew why Mistress Gillian had some experience with the healing arts.

“Yes, Milady, you wish to see what other herbs and medicines Mistress Olina might be storing.”

“Exactly, although by the symptoms, the illness appears to be the Summer Fever, however, from what I see now, it’s some malady we haven’t encountered before.”

Reaching for her healer’s bag, Aislin realized another servant picked it up to carry. After thanking the woman, she began to follow Mistress Gillian into the hallway.

After walking up and down several flights of stairs already, she was all too happy to discover the workshop close. Hopefully, Court Healer didn’t take all of her supplies on her travels; she thought to herself as they reached their destination. Opening the door, Aislin immediately became envious of Mistress Olina.

Scattered around the room were books on medicinal plants, a small table with rare herbs sitting in small pots, and on the far wall a shelf covered with all kinds of dried plants. As Aislin walked around the room, she wondered if her grandmother had all of these plants and herbs readily available when she was a Court Healer.

“Gillian, you seem to know a little about the healing arts.”

“Yes, Milady.”

“Good, if we can get more help, I would like to start making poultices.”

After giving instructions on the brewing of herbal tea for Sir Miles, Aislin headed towards the wall to start inventorying the plants. She could tell that it was going to be a long day.

--0--

Passing through another small village, the men in the wagon had already traveled two days from the Keep. At this pace, the five men who made up the detachment noted by week’s end, they should be able to deliver the black stone to the Duke’s men in Wrixton. The only issue that the drivers and escorts noticed were that all of their animals appeared to be more skittish than usual.

“Liam, you don’t look well, are you sick?” One of the escorts eyed the senior driver of the wagon.

“Don’t know.” Wiping off his face, he turned to the man next to him. “Do thou mind if I lay down in the back for a while.”

After the second driver had made the switch, he called back to his friend. “What’s that noise?”

“You heard it too? Thought it was just me.”

“It’s a buzzing noise right, could it be something wrong with the cart?” One of the mounted men-at-arms moved his horse closer with an actual thought of joining the driver in the back of the wagon. Like Liam, he hadn’t felt quite right since the morning, either.

“We should reach the town of Kilrush this evening. We will have the cart checked out before we leave on the morrow.” Sergeant Aed, the leader of the group and the last of three riders escorting the monolith, couldn’t make out the noise but believed the men.

Although the detachment had made good time so far, it appeared that they were going to be delayed if they needed to find a healer.

--0—

Sir Nevan entered the Great Hall, not at all surprised to find Aislin asleep at one of the tables, a half-eaten plate of food in front of her. According to the Bailiff, she had visited every sick member of the Keep today.

“Mistress Gillian, has a room been made ready for Lady Aislin?”

“Yes, your lordship.” She whispered.

“I’m awake.” Aislin looked up and smiled at the young Knight. Reaching for a bit of bread, she stuffed it into her mouth. She wished she could have done more for those she met today. Although now much more comfortable, those struck with the strange malady were still very ill.

Everyone greeted her warmly, but the Constable’s reaction to her presence had been rather odd. At first nervous, thinking he knew her true gender, she found the older man to be quite charming. Aislin could tell he also wanted to speak to her at length without the other present but knew it would have to wait until the illness abated.

“Enough for one day.” Sir Nevan looked at her with concern. “From what I have been told, you have instructed the servants to make enough medicine for most of the Keep.”

“It’s still not enough; the medicines only help with the symptoms. I need to discover its true cause.”

Aislin knew her grandmother and Macha should have been able to battle the illness if the illness came just from the body alone. Spending time with enough of those ill, the young healer had a feeling that the malady affected more than just the body with a small part of her even questioning if it was truly an illness.

Rubbing her eyes, she stood up. “Nevan, I’ve been sitting here, thinking. I would like to try one more healing. Everyone else seems to be feeling somewhat better, but Miles refuses to do so.”

“He’s a pretty stubborn man.” Nevan grimaced following Aislin and a couple of female servants into the other Knight’s chamber.

To everyone, the young man lying on the bed looked deathly ill. Nevan had been concerned about his cousin from the very beginning. The day before, Miles had been riding around with Aislin in the swamp; now he lay dying.

Aislin moved by Sir Miles's bedside, gently taking hold of his hand. She would need to do more than just strengthen his body. Something told her if she failed, the illness would spread unchecked throughout the Kingdom.

Hundreds of years ago, an illness named the Dearg Bas, the Pox, had spread across most of the known lands, killing noble and commoner alike. Aislin decided her problems now seemed so small compared to Sir Miles, who lay before her at death’s door.

Praying to the gods to grant her strength, Aislin reached out not to heal the body but the spirit.

--0--

Sergeant Aed left the healer’s cottage, motioning his men to follow him. Reluctantly he had left Liam in her care, as it appeared the driver had come down with the Summer Fever.

“You don’t seem all that well either, Sergeant,” One of the younger guards, commented as the group made it's way back towards the inn.

“What manner of dark sorcery have you placed inside my stable?” The owner of the inn accosted them as soon as they came through the door.

“What nonsense is this?” Sergeant Aed looked to the others, who looked just as confused.

When the innkeeper wouldn’t back down, the Sergeant started marching towards the stable. “Fine, then show me the problem.”

Stepping out the back door, the guardsmen recognized the unnatural sound coming from the stable.

“Strange...the carts not moving. Why the noise?”

“I agree; the buzzing sound is even louder than before.”

“Before, so you knew about this?” Reaching for the stable door, the innkeeper said. “I’ve half a mind to kick all of you out this night. Whatever you have placed in there is disturbing my other guests as well.”

“Stop” Sergeant Aed finally realized what had been making the noise, but it was too late as the stable door disintegrated in the innkeeper’s hands.

As a fierce wind consumed the inside of the stable, large fragments of wood scattered in every direction sparing neither man nor beast. Growing stronger, the cyclone continued to expand its destruction, finally encompassing inn and soon the entire town.

When the winds subsided, a creature of nightmares crawled out of the gore-covered ruins. If anyone had lived through its birth, they would have seen a shadowy creature, cat-like in form with a long tail and bat-like wings on its back, silently taking flight.

As the creature climbed higher in the night’s sky, it circled the remains of the town of Kilrush, before finally turning in the direction of Lord Kelvin’s lands.