Returning to the bed, I pulled aside the curtains so the breeze reached her. Then I moved across the room to collect the smoldering bowls. I had a mind of hurling them out the window. Not a good idea. Instead I carried them to the front room where I opened another window to get a draft going.
Then I went back to the bed and knelt. Lady Clara reminded me of a shrunken doll. I gently touched her hand and forehead. She felt clammy and hot at the same time. Bluish veins spidered along her temples.
A scream rang out. “Who opened the window?”
Somebody rushed past me as I scrambled to stand.
“Don’t close them!”
Then I blinked. Not five feet away stood Juliana. She stared at me, her eyes wide, her mouth opening and closing.
“Hi,” I said. Nothing else came to mind.
“Max?” It sounded as if she were being strangled. “What are you doing here?”
“I came back.”
I cringed. I was really making smart conversation.
Juliana’s mouth pinched shut. “You have no right to be here, Max Nerds.” She looked toward the window and then the bed. “I must close the windows. My Lady is sick.”
“Juliana, what’s going on? Leave it open. What’s wrong with Lady Clara?”
“I will be punished. I must close…” She rushed to the wall, but I was faster.
“Keep them open. You’re poisoning her with this stink.”
“The medicos left strict orders,” Juliana cried. “The smoke fends off evil spirits.”
“She can’t breathe. Who’s the medicos?”
“The healer Lord Werner called in the spring.”
“He is an idiot.”
“Lord Werner?”
I bit back an insult. “No, the healer.”
I was back all right. Idiots everywhere. At the same time I was breathless, Juliana standing so close, trying to reach past me.
“What happened to you? Is that wine?” To my surprise, her eyes filled with tears. “If the medicos finds out, he will punish and throw me from the castle.”
I patted her arm to calm her, feeling awkward and clumsy. In my daydreams everything had worked smoothly, Juliana smiling and embracing me while I expertly kissed her.
Instead she shook off my hand like a poisonous insect.
“Leave me,” she yelled. “You show up out of nowhere and make trouble.”
I fought to keep my voice steady, the urge of embracing her competing with my surprise for this rather cool reception.
“Listen, Juliana.” How I loved that name. “Remember how I helped you with your leg?”
She slowly nodded. “I am sure I can do something better than your…your medicos.” She just stood there and stared at me. I reclaimed one of her hands. “Will you tell me what’s wrong with her?” I nodded toward the bed. Lady Clara hadn’t moved.
“She fell sick last winter. She hadn’t been well for a long time, but the winter was cold and damp. She started to cough and…in the spring, when she failed to get better, the Lord asked the medicos to visit. He has been here ever since, but she is worse.” Juliana looked at her mistress, her face grief-stricken. “I did everything, the medicos told me. Everything.”
“It isn’t your fault,” I said. “It’s the wrong treatment.”
“You are no healer.”
“I’m not, but I know a lot more than most of you. I want to examine her.”
Juliana shook her head, a new tear running down her cheek. “I shall be chastised.”
“What do you have to lose?” I yelled, my patience evaporating. “She looks like death warmed over. Your medicos will kill her for sure.”
Juliana crossed herself. “You must not speak like that.”
“Why not? It’s true. I’m going to try to help her.” With that, I moved toward the bed. Let Juliana try to stop me.
But she didn’t. She reluctantly drew closer, her eyes filled with dread and hope. I wanted to hug her then, kiss her for hours.
But Lady Clara had no time. Even if I hurried, I was probably too late.
I bent over the Lady’s chest and listened. You didn’t need a stethoscope to hear that each breath rattled like somebody was tossing dice inside her chest. Her cheeks shone pale and her lips were cracked.
“She may have pneumonia.”
“What?”
“A disease of the lungs.”
“The medicos has been taking her blood to purge the evil forces.”
I impatiently shook my head. Medieval stupidity. “He’s taken the last of her strength with it,” I said aloud. “We need to improve her immune system and disinfect the air.”
“What is that?”
I swallowed a curse. “Can you boil water for me and bring it? A large bowl…kettle, better make it two.”
Juliana nodded.
I remembered the castle’s herb garden and rushed from the room. “I’ll be right back.” Only when I got down to the great hall did I remember that I wasn’t here officially. Chances were excellent that I’d be recognized and arrested.
But I needed certain herbs and I hoped they’d have them here. I wouldn’t be able to go to Luanda’s and be allowed back in. Lady Clara couldn’t speak for me. Werner was gone who knew where and Lame Hans would find a nice dank room for me.
I stopped at the door. The merchants had moved their wagon closer to the cellar and four servants were running in and out, rolling large kegs and carrying the small ones on their shoulders. The skull-faced merchant stood supervising, while the fat one was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Lame Hans.
I rushed through the gate to the outer bailey where the castle gardens held vegetables and herbs. In the distance wood and metal clanked. Several squires practiced with training swords, shouting and laughing. I didn’t pay any attention. Lady Clara had no time to lose.
Near the outer wall somebody stopped sparring and stared in my direction. Someone, I knew well.
Chapter 8
I made my way through the herb beds, the heat already unbearable on the southwest side of the three-story building where the Lords of Hanstein lived with their families. I wiped the sweat out of my eyes with my forearm.
Almost everything I needed was here: two kinds of lavender, purple flowers in full bloom, sage, rosemary and peppermint. Somebody had been watering the plants and they looked lush and healthy despite the steaming heat. I dug up roots from the purple coneflower, not caring that my pants were caked with mud.
“Stay right there and don’t move.”
The tip of something sharp poked my neck. Then a pair of dust-covered boots came into view. I kept my head down and raised my arms.
“I have no weapons,” I said, slipping the Swiss army knife back into my pocket.
“Get up.”
I scrambled to stand… and stared. “Bero?” During my first game Bero had been my best friend. Despite our differences, despite being born more than five-hundred years apart, we’d helped each other in ways I’d never experienced. He’d taught me things like perseverance and finding joy when life seemingly had nothing to offer.
That’s why I was shocked when Bero squinted, his brown eyes cold. “What are you doing at Hanstein?”
I still stared, my mouth hanging open. Unbelievable how Bero had changed. He’d grown at least four inches and filled out considerably. Castle life had been good for him.
“You look great,” I managed.
“I asked what you’re doing here?” Bero’s training sword wandered around to my throat.
“I’m fixing medicine for Lady Clara. She… I…”
“How did you get in?”
“Ehem, really cool to see you.” I wanted to say how much I’d missed Bero, how I’d been thinking about him for months and worried. This Bero didn’t seem to need worrying. He seemed strong and quite capable of protecting himself. Unlike me.
“Does the Lord know you are here?” Bero’s gaze traveled up and down my wool pants and boots. “What kind of shoes are these? You stink lik
e a reeling-ripe keg.” He wrinkled his nose.
I slowly shook my head. Where to start? Bero had a way of coming straight to the point and obviously no patience.
“Move!”
I glanced at the herbs by my feet.
“Leave that.”
“But I need to get them to Lady Clara right away.”
“We shall report to Lord Hans,” Bero said. “He is in charge while Lord Werner is away.” His blade poked my chest. “Walk. Arms up. Do it fast.”
I took a few steps, feeling very nervous all of a sudden. This Bero was a stranger—and not a friendly one at that. His voice was much deeper now, that of a man. Of all his family, he’d changed the most.
“Hurry,” Bero said.
With every step I got more furious. Here I’d been worrying myself sick about the guy. I’d returned to help. Well not entirely, of course. There was Juliana, but…anyway, I was here and trying to save Lady Clara’s life. And what did I get? Bero, the giant jerk.
When the portcullis came into view I abruptly stopped. Let Bero whip me with the sword. I’d first tell him a thing or two. I turned around and stared at my friend.
“No,” I shouted. “At least, you can hear me out before you drag me in front of the Lord.”
Bero’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why should I? You disappeared into thin air. We searched for you for months, sent runners and spies everywhere. Lord Werner assumed you were back with Schwarzburg. Or Ott.
“Nay, you vanished for good. We worried and Juliana cried and cried.” Bero’s face flushed with anger. “You have no place at Hanstein.”
I opened my mouth to argue. What was wrong with the guy?
“I couldn’t help it,” I began. “I was called away. You don’t understand.”
“What? I’m too daft? It seems to me that you are the lying son and heir of a malt-worm.”
“What?”
When Bero didn’t answer I slowly nodded. “Maybe so. But you must believe me that I left because I had to. It was a surprise and if you give me a chance, I’ll try to explain it to you. Right now, I want to help Lady Clara.” I stopped, expecting Bero to poke me with his sword. But Bero seemed to wait, his eyes still cold.
“You remember I helped your sister. I can help the Lady. That’s what I was doing. If you still want to turn me in, do it after I fix some stuff for her. I may be too late anyway, but at least I want to try.”
Conflicting emotions played on my old friend’s face, mostly anger, but there was a hint of bewilderment as he fidgeted with his sword, maybe curiosity, a little bit of the old Bero I remembered.
At last he nodded. “Fine. Get your things. We shall call on Lady Clara. I shan’t let you out of my sight, so do not try anything funny. Lackwit!”
I couldn’t suppress a smile. “Thanks.” Nothing like listening to Bero’s insults. I collected the herbs in my shirt and hurried upstairs, Bero two steps behind.
The Lady’s chamber smelled much better already. Juliana, who’d been pacing near the door, came rushing at me.
“Where have you been? The water is getting cold. I brought a cooking vessel, too.”
“Your brother found me.” I nodded over my shoulder.
“He is my prisoner,” Bero said.
I decided to ignore him, let him stand there with his dumb sword. I had things to do.
“Hang the pot over the fire and add more wood. The water needs to boil.” While Juliana rushed to reheat the water, I crumbled herbs into one of the bowls. “I need pine boughs and bark again.”
Bero shook his head. “I am not leaving. You will trick me.”
I swallowed the insult that came to mind. Pig-headed jerk. To my surprise, Juliana started to yell.
“Why don’t you help? Can you not see she is dying? Max can help her.” Her voice quivered. “Will you at least try?”
“I won’t leave. I swear to you, on my honor,” I said.
Bero glanced at us both as if to weigh whether my honor was worth anything. Then, without a word, he turned and dashed out of the room.
“What now?” Juliana said.
“Has she eaten?”
“Not in days.”
“Can you get chicken broth? Cook chicken, onions, garlic and salt…not too much salt. Bring the soup here. No meat, just the broth.”
Juliana nodded. “It will take a while. I’ll ask the cooks.”
I nodded absentmindedly. Lady Clara continued to stare at the ceiling as I carried the steaming bowl of herbs to her bed. I’d picked up a stick outside and now took one of the clean bed sheets lying on a wooden chest to fashion a cloth tent. I placed the bowl underneath so that the steam began to fill the enclosed area.
Arranging bouquets of lavender, rosemary and peppermint along the poster bed, I thanked my mother for teaching me about natural medicine and myself for taking time to study up on herbs.
I rubbed the lavender flowers and stems until the room began to smell like a flower garden and sprinkled more flowers onto Lady Clara’s bed. Lavender was a potent disinfectant. Underneath the tent the air turned fragrant and hot.
I hoped the Lady’s lungs would heal from the disinfecting powers of the herbal steam. I rubbed handfuls of peppermint on her soles.
At least the place smelled good now. The stinking smoke had dissipated, a pleasant breeze of summer air billowed the bed curtains. I thought of my own room where I’d been yesterday. Had it really only been a day?
I looked up expectantly when I heard footsteps. Juliana had been quick.
Instead, a man in a long black sheath and a square hat of black velvet rushed in. His pale blue eyes, almost colorless, fastened themselves on me.
“What is the meaning of this?” he shouted in a falsetto voice. “I left strict orders.” He huffed as if he were out of breath. Then he inhaled loudly, scanning the herb bundles and the staked sheet.
“My Lady,” he shouted as he hurried to the bed. I stepped into his way. My heart raced and I was scared of the man, but I’d rather smack the guy in the nose before I let him remove the steam tent.
“Leave it alone,” I said, straining to put force into my voice. “She’s fine under there.”
“What witchery is this?” the man said. “What conjuring are you up to? I am the Lord’s medicos. I have studied the art of healing for years. Get out of my way at once.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “No.”
Luckily, the man only reached to my chin and seemed pretty scrawny. He didn’t appear to carry any weapons either, but it was obvious he was used to giving orders.
His watery eyes narrowed as he pursed his lips. “If My Lady dies, it will be on your conscience.”
“You just about killed her before I got here,” I said.
The medicos gasped and took a step back. His eyes turned to granite.
I’d seen it before, pure hatred oozing from the man’s pores. Ott had looked like that when he’d collapsed into a helpless heap after I’d smuggled Belladonna berries into his wine. He’d shot poison darts with his eyes and sworn revenge.
“I shall alert the Lord at once,” the medicos said. “You will go to the dungeon.”
I suppressed a shiver, trying to keep a straight face. I wouldn’t let the jerk see me scared.
“Stay a while,” Bero said, closing the door behind him. He was carrying an armful of pine boughs and handed me a cloth packet. “Bark.”
“Who are you?” the medicos said. He’d moved toward the door, but Bero stepped into his way.
“I am Bero, head squire for Konrad, first Knight to Werner, the Lord of Hanstein. And you need to move to the corner.” Bero waved his sword. Except now, he wore a real one. Not the fancy kind with precious stones and gold, I’d seen on Lord Werner. A plain one, but well cared for and sharp. I felt intense pride. Bero had done well.
The medicos mumbled something and scampered into the corner by the fireplace. I ignored him and went back to work. I added pine needles and pieces of coneflower root to the pewter cup
and let it steep. In the second bowl I mixed pine, bark and more herbs and carried it to the bed. Tearing a piece of linen from a bed cloth, I dunked it into the hot brew.
Underneath the steam tent, I placed the hot rag on Lady Clara’s chest. Unfastening the ties of her shirt, I ignored everything but her chest bone.
At least she wore a shirt. People usually slept naked in the Middle Ages. After a couple minutes, I redid the treatment, soaking the hot cloth in the pine brew, her skin now flaming red.
Was it in my head or was her breathing quieter? I listened. I could’ve sworn the rattle had eased. Carefully, I folded a second sheet and laid it across Lady Clara’s chest with the pine cloth beneath.
I added more boiling water to the herb bowl and replaced it under the tent.
When I emerged I was sweating, my back ached and I was ravenous. I remembered my bundle with Luanda’s cheese and bread and stopped. The last I’d seen it, I’d been locked up at the Klausenhof.
Damn! I’d lost it when I escaped through the window. I needed my cape to return to present day. Now my things were in the hands of the innkeeper.
I sighed.
“What is wrong?” Bero said. “Is she dead?”
The medicos straightened in his corner where he’d slumped in the straw. I peered at the bed and listened. The lady’s chest rose and fell without sound.
“Nothing,” I mumbled. At least with the medicos here, Bero had forgotten to yank me in front of Hans.
“I have the soup,” Juliana announced. “I thought you might be hungry. And thirsty.” She held up a basket. “Beer, bread, cold meat and apricots.”
I smiled. “Starving.”
Then Juliana threw an anxious glance at the bed. “Is she…”
“I think she’s a little better. Her breathing has quieted. Can you trickle a drop of tea on her lips? I’ll help you as soon as I’ve had a bite.”
Juliana inspected the cup. “It stinks.”
“The coneflower smells, but it helps her immune system.”
“He speaks like a sorcerer,” the medicos squeaked. “You will all burn at the stake.”
I ignored him and moved my attention to the food. As usual Bero had wasted no time and was already eating. At least that part hadn’t changed.
At Witches' End Page 5