Page 27 of Heart of Snow
Friedrich straightened, dusting off his green jerkin while nodding toward the other brother. “The uglier one is Emil.”
Emil, who couldn’t have been more than eleven, had the audacity to wink at me. I did my best to give him a most serious, disapproving look, to which he laughed, wholly unrepentant.
One man too eager to await his turn at an introduction made his way over to me, bending low from the waist before catching hold of my hand to place a lengthy kiss on my knuckles.
“This is Wilhelm.” Friedrich cleared his throat, prompting the man to finally end his kiss. I smiled at him when he straightened but couldn’t help noticing his bowed back and stunted legs as he waddled over to give Belinda a greeting every bit as gracious. It was easy to see why a child might mistake miners for dwarfs.
“The resident cook is Daniel,” Friedrich said, turning my attention to a man at the fire. Daniel flicked his hand in a sort of wave but continued to stir whatever bubbled in his cauldron. I hated to think it was the source of the rancid smell enveloping the cabin.
Daniel turned a keen eye on Friedrich. “Do we get a red hart today, or were ya too busy fer deer catchin’?” His eyes darted to me, and I blushed from his implication.
Friedrich shook his head. “You know I don’t hunt anymore.”
I caught the surprised look on Daniel’s face before Friedrich pointed behind me across the room to introduce me to an older man sprawled out on a short bed.
“Last of all is Ernst, your patient.”
With great effort, Ernst leaned onto his elbow and offered a nod before being overtaken by a deep, chesty cough that multiplied into a fit. Friedrich crossed to him, pulling him upright and beating his back until Ernst’s coughing subsided.
“Belinda, the herbs,” I ordered, and she slipped out of the cabin to retrieve the packets of crushed herbs from the saddlebag.
I knelt beside Ernst’s bed, taking his gnarled hand in mine. “Friedrich tells me you’ve been unwell.”
He nodded. “Pains in my chest and a cough I can’t be rid of. Sometimes I’m fightin’ fer breath.”
“He don’t eat much either,” Daniel offered as Belinda reentered.
I rubbed Ernst’s hand. “We’ll get you on your feet again.” Joining Belinda at the table, I sorted through the herbs for the thyme.
“How can I help?” Friedrich was at my elbow, his breath tickling my ear.
“Perhaps heat a pot of mead?”
He rooted around the wooden shelf, pulling down a jug of mead and a small, three-footed pot, which he nestled into coals beside the fire. While he poured the mead out in glugs, I untied the thyme packet and sprinkled the crushed herbs into the pot for Friedrich to stir with his wooden ladle. I left him to steep the thyme brew, returning to gather the unused packets of herbs and trying to ignore Emil as he leaned against the table beside me.
“So,” he said, “have ya any suitors?”
“Stand down, Emil.” Friedrich’s words sounded like a warning.
Wilhelm knocked Emil on the head as he waddled past. “She’s clearly spoke fer.” Taking a seat opposite us, he looked back and forth between Friedrich and me, then asked, “How’d ya meet?”
The room grew warm, and I glanced at Belinda for guidance, but she stood with a hand to her lips, poorly concealing her smile.
“We haven’t—there’s nothing—” Friedrich stammered.
“We serve together at the castle.” I tried to sound composed.
“The castle?” Daniel stirred his pot, looking down at Friedrich. “How’s that goin’?”
“Enough, Dan.” Another warning. Friedrich was testy with his friends this eve.
“I’m only surprised ya’d take work there after—”
“The tonic is warm,” Friedrich said to me. “Cups and spoons are there.”
I reached for the wooden shelf where Friedrich pointed, collecting a cup and holding it steady as he poured the hot brew. Giving it a final stir, I made my way to Ernst while Friedrich gathered pillows from the other beds to arrange them behind Ernst’s back. When Ernst was comfortably upright, I set the warm cup in his hands. He breathed in the steam, stopping short under another string of coughs until he’d recovered enough to take a tentative sip. His face puckered with distaste.
“It’s repulsive, isn’t it? Most things she brews are.” Despite his words, Friedrich gave me a warm smile, and I sensed something like admiration in the soft way his eyes trailed over my face.
