Page 39 of To Wed a Witch
"Juniper, to cleanse the air.It'll help him breathe," Sìne replied, not looking up as she strained the dark tea.When Bhaltair returned with the milk, she poured it slowly into the steaming brew, watching it turn the color of rich earth.She then waited until the mixture cooled to a lukewarm temperature.
"Now we lift his head gently."
Bhaltair lifted the boy into a sitting position and cradled his slack jaw.Sìne began trickling the mixture between his lips, massaging his throat to encourage swallowing."This will coat his belly and slow the poison's work while the Angelica root fights it."
The boy's mother asked, "Angelica?I've never heard tell of such a remedy."
Sìne was moving about the cottage again.She soaked clean linen in the cold well water Bhaltair had collected."It comes from the angel herb, some call it the root of the archangel for its power against poisons."
She moved back to the bed.Bhaltair seemed to anticipate her moves and adjust the lad so he was lying back down, but his upper body was propped up by pillows.Sìne gently placed the cold compress over the boy's racing heart.
"But how did ye ken it?"his mother whispered."How could ye be certain?"
Sìne's hands stilled for a moment as she adjusted the cold cloth.The room fell silent save for the crackling of juniper on the fire and Drew's labored breathing.
"My grandmother, my mother’s mother, was a Norse healer from Orkney," she replied."When I was but a wee lass, she taught me the remedy she had learned from a Sámi healer.They are reindeer herders who dwell beyond the edge of the world.They called this rootFádnuin their tongue, though some knew it asKvann."
Sìne replaced the compress with fresh cold linen, her movements sure and practiced.All the while, Bhaltair's steady gaze and calming presence gave her strength.
The boy's breathing seemed to slow slightly, becoming deeper.His pulse, while still weak, had steadied beneath her fingers.
"My grandmother made me learn every remedy, every story of where the knowledge came from.'The wisdom of healing is like seeds on the wind,'she would say.'We harvest the garden that someone else planted, and plant the seeds for other hands to sow.'"
Several hours later and more doses of the tea, Sìne prepared another compress, watching the boy's color gradually shift from the blue-white of death toward the pale of deep sleep.
"Will he live?"the mother asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Sìne checked the boy's pulse again, felt the steady rhythm beneath her fingertips, saw the rise and fall of his chest growing stronger.
"The angel herb fights for him now," she replied."If he survives the night, then there is hope yet."
At that moment, the lad's eyelids fluttered, and he drew his first truly deep breath since the poison had claimed him.
***
THE HEALER'S COTTAGEwas a hive of activity as clansfolk quietly came and went, leaving refreshments for the occupants, sending word that Aidyn was safe and well with Paisley, delivering messages from Bhaltair to the Keep staff.Throughout it all, Bhaltair remained with Sìne, holding the lad still when the convulsions struck, helping her with the tea, never once questioning her methods or her judgment.
As dawn broke, Drew's breathing finally eased, his color improved, and he opened his eyes with recognition for the first time in days.
"Mama?"he whispered, his small hand reaching weakly for his mother.
The woman burst into tears of relief, falling to her knees beside the bed."Oh, my sweet lad!"
Sìne finally breathed a sigh of relief because the worst was over.
"He'll need rest, warmth, and proper food," Sìne instructed, exhaustion making her voice hoarse."I'll have a simple broth prepared when he can take it.He should be fully recovered within a sennight but will need to go slow.Ye and the lad can remain here for now as I dinnae want to move him so soon.But perhaps later this evening we can move ye both into one of our empty cottages, for he will need a quiet place to rest without folks coming and going at all hours."
"Aye," Bhaltair said, "I'll have a cart brought around later with provisions to tide ye both over until he's well enough to return home."
"Thank ye, laird, mistress.That is most kind of ye.Ye dinnae ken how much this means to us.Ye've worked a miracle," the woman sobbed, clutching Sìne's hands."A true miracle.I dinna ken how to thank ye."
"No thanks needed," Sìne replied gently."Just take care of yer son."
But even as she spoke, she could see people gathering outside her cottage.Word of the healing had spread quickly through the clan, and the faces pressed against her windows showed a mixture of awe, gratitude, and for some...suspicion.
"My lady," a young lass whispered when Sìne stepped outside."Is it true what they're saying?That ye brought the boy back from the very edge of death?"
"I treated his illness," Sìne replied."As any healer would."
