AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I pull two tin cups from a cabinet and pour Gram and I some ale before joining them.
“He will,” Gram assures him. “But his arm will need to be in a sling. His side is bandaged and should heal nicely. Bring him back to me in a few days, just to ensure he’s healing properly, but I think he’ll be fine.” She hands him a jar of poultice. “Put this on his wounds twice daily. It’s mandrake and sage. It should ward off infection.”
“Thank you, mistress. Truly.” The tightness in his face drains and he reaches for his coin pouch. He dumps out five bits and a crown and pushes them towards Gram. “This is all I have, mistress healer, but it is yours. I cannot pay you enough for saving Marcus. He has been my friend since we were babes on our mothers’ knees. I was afraid he was going to die.”
Gram smiles, the deep lines in her face like trails of wisdom on a tattered map. “Keep the coins, young man. You will need them now more than ever. Marcus must not work until he’s healed properly, and he’ll need some tending over the coming days, which means you’ll be out of work too.”
“But you mended him—”
She is resolute. “I’ll not take those coins. Now put them away.”
His jaw clenches and he nods. “I will not forget this, mistress healer. I am in your service, whenever it is needed.” He looks in my direction. “And yours as well, sweet mistress. Thank you.”
When Marcus is roused and able to stand, we walk the men to the door.
“Are you sure you don’t need to stay until morning?” Gram asks Kevan again. “Marcus can have Milla’s bed. She can sleep with me, and you can make a pallet on the floor. We have plenty of thick blankets.”
“You’re too kind,” Kevan replies, “but my home is two streets over, and we have no need to go near town square. Guard patrol will be busy in the market areas in this witching hour, looking for thieves—”
“Or drunks,” Marcus cuts in. “The patrol practically makes camp at the tavern.”
“Glad to see your wit is intact,” Gram says, giving his good arm a gentle squeeze. “You are looking much better. The pink has returned to your cheeks.”
“Thanks again for everything,” Marcus says.
She nods. “Go with God.” They head out the door and she latches it behind them. She turns to me. “I must get some sleep, child. These old bones are aching soundly. I’m proud of you, Milla. You assisted me beautifully.” She pulls me into a tight hug, and I sink into it like I did when I was a wee thing.
“I love you, Gram.”
“I love you too, sweet child. And evermore.”
I watch her slow gait as she makes her way to the bedroom door. She closes it slowly behind her. She patched up the young man as efficiently as any doctor, that’s to be certain. But something about this fateful eve was different. It took a lot out of her.
And that scares me to death.
I make my way to the apothecary. Marcus’ blood is still visible on the table and floor. If Gram were herself instead of ailing, this would be cleaned up by now. But I’m able-bodied and strong, and I’ll do it. I retrieve a bucket of clean water and a rag. I have the table wiped down fairly quickly and set to work on the floor. My mind once again drifts to the bakery today and seeing Jordy.
Jordy…
Sometimes I wonder if he’d still speak to me if he knew the impure thoughts that consume my being when I’m with him, how my mouth gets dry and my knees weaken. My skin turns to gooseflesh and I imagine his bronzed arms wrapped around my body. They are not the thoughts of a proper maiden.
But Jordy isn’t built for proper thoughts, and he has the face of a god.
I giggle at my boldness, obviously succumbing to mental exhaustion. I get back to the task at hand. I am on my knees, scrubbing the last of Marcus’ blood away. I think about Sir Malek, stabbing that young man through his arm. His cruelty is beyond the pale. He is a monster.
The first time I saw Sir Malek in the village, I was a small girl, still clutching Gram’s hand as we shopped. Malek and his companions were taunting a blind man who had accidentally bumped into him. The poor beggar was terrified, pleading with them to give him his walking stick and the few coins he had managed to collect. I remember the man’s face as clearly as my own, the way the terror lit his eyes, his blindness showing his fear as if he were as sighted as me. And I pitied him. And I hated Sir Malek.
And do to this veryday.
Legend has it that Malek can change form and become a raven, black as night and swift as an arrow. I don’t know if the rumors are true, but I do know that he leaves a raven feather on every man he kills on the battlefield, or on the street, or in the tavern. The miller’s son said that one time, Melak killed so many men in battle, the sky was filled with nothing but ebony feathers and screaming. He kills men for folly. He is a demon.
I toss the wet rags into the fireplace. We never reuse the ones that clean up the blood. I tiptoe into the bedroom, not wanting to wake Gram. We share our sleeping quarters, her bed on one wall and mine on the other. I’m so spent that I simply slip off my dress and skirts and slide under the covers in my chemise and bloomers. The goose feather pillow that Gram made me feels like a cloud on my face and I sink into it. But even before my weary eyes close, Gram coughs. And then she coughs again. She settles down quickly, the spell not lasting as long as usual, but that does little to ease my nerves. She is sick, and we don’t know how to fix her, no matter how effectively she heals everyone else. I pull a single match and my wee flintstone from the tiny pocket Gram added to my chemise. I sit up and strike the match, allowing it to burn for a few moments.
“I wish my gram’s cough would heal and she would be in full health again.” I blow out the match before the flame licks my fingers. “Like matches for wishes…”
CHAPTER 4
Gram was right. I had no problem selling the waist purse. I’ve also sold a handful of matches and the scarf I was unable to sell last morrow, thanks to a kind lady’s chilled hands and raw, pink nose. My coin pouch has six bits, and I still have some baubles I can sell next sunup. My work for this day is done and the sun is still high in the sky. This is a good day, and my soul is renewed. I set off for the bakery and the butcher shop, excited with the prospect of food that will last more than merely a couple of sunsets.
