The Healer's Legacy by Sharon Skinner Read Free Book Online Page A

given her anything for her symptoms?” Kira asked.
    “Aye,” Malla replied, wringing her hands in concern. “Honeyed tea fer the cough, an’ white willow bark fer the fever. But she’s barely drank a few sips o’ neither.”
    Kira could feel the woman’s eyes on her as she pulled back the blankets to examine the girl further. She placed her hand against the child’s stomach. Her belly was distended, and hard to the touch as if it were filled with something solid. The girl moaned again.
    Kira pulled one of the blankets back up to her chin, leaving the others piled at the end of the bed. “It isn’t a normal childhood complaint,” she said. “I think she’s contracted something. A parasite of some sort.”
    Malla’s hands went to her mouth and her eyes stitched with pained. “Och! I should have kept a better watch on the child!”
    Ryospar turned to the distressed woman. “Nay, Malla. ’Tisn’t yer fault. Ye can’t be watchin’ after all the younglings at every moment.”
    Kira eyed them for a long moment, uncertain as to what to say. She looked down at the child and decided on the truth. “I might be able to help her, but the remedy will make her even more ill for a time. She won’t be able to have food for several more days, perhaps a week. And as small as she is . . .” Her words trailed off into silence as she watched Ryospar’s jaw working. It was clear he was trying hard to keep his emotions in check, but Kira could see the fear in his eyes. “Have any of the other children had any symptoms?” she asked.
    “Nay, naught that I’ve seen.” Malla choked out the words and hugged herself, tears running down her face.
    “Malla,” Kira said. “I need you to boil a pot of water. After it boils for a few minutes, put two dippers of it into a clean wooden bowl. Add a small measure of white willow bark, and two of tansy. And mix a half-measure of powdered elf’s garlic in it.’ She reached into the pouch at her waist and drew out a handful of garget roots and the berries she’d collected earlier. “Then chop these roots and mash the berries and toss them into the mixture.”
    Malla sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She crossed the room and took the roots from Kira, pausing to eye the berries suspiciously, “Nay,” she said. “Yer not wantin’ to give her those, are ye?”
    “Yes,” Kira said firmly, looking the woman in the eye. “I know they’ll make her ill, but it will help to purge out the insects that are growing inside her.”
    Malla’s eyes widened. She pursed her lips tight, but she took the berries and turned toward the door.
    “Malla,” Kira said.
    “Yes?”
    “If you have any peppermint and eucalyptus oil, please bring that as well.”
    Malla nodded and left the room.
    Ryospar watched her go, then turned to Kira. “Is there naught fer me to do?” he asked.
    “There is plenty, I’m afraid. First, we’ll have to move her out of the main hall. Is there a small storage building we can clear out?”
    Ryospar frowned, but nodded. “Aye, but ye want to move a sick child out into the night?”
    “We need her away from the cooking area, in a place that’s easily cleaned. We’ll need everything else removed from the shed, and a thick bed of hay put down. Once the purging begins . . .” she spread out her hands to gesture at the room.
    “Ach, I see yer meanin’,” he said. He spun around and left the room.
    Before long, Malla returned, a wooden bowl clutched tightly in one hand, a small vial in the other. Ryospar came in behind her. “’Tis ready,” he said.
    “Good. I’ll carry her.” Kira leaned over and lifted the little girl in her arms. Ryospar started to protest, but seemed to think better of it and turned to lead the way. The child’s face shone ghostly pale in the flickering lamplight, and she made no sound as Kira carried her outside. She followed Ryospar to a work shed that stood near the edge of the woods. Several lamps already burned