Unquiet Dreams by K. A. Laity Read Free Book Online

a blanket, stretching her wings before refolding them to her satisfaction.
    "A child was sent up here to fetch some dragon's blood," Colburga said, tossing some dried nettles into the basket as well. The dragon blinked in surprise, but her heavy lids soon fell and she was asleep before Colburga made it out the entrance again. She threw her wool cloak over her shoulder for the walk back up.
    The child still waited expectantly. "Are we going to get the dragon's blood now?"
    "No," Colburga said, taking her hand, "We're going to see your mother."
    ***
    The woman was definitely ill. Her skin was pale and yellow, cold and clammy to the touch. She was so deeply asleep—or feverish, Colburga thought grimly—that she paid no attention to the healer's hands probing her flesh, touching this pulse point or that, peeking at the whites of her eyes. The girl followed her every movement eagerly, but did not interrupt with a lot of questions. An amazingly well-raised child, Colburga could not help thinking it a compliment to the woman who lay prone before her, as much good as that would do her.
    "How long has your mother been ill?" Colburga asked the child as she continued to knead the hand of the woman.
    "A few days," the child answered, looking thoughtful, "Since the Saint's day."
    "Are you sure?" If so, this was bad indeed.
    The girl nodded. "We were walking back from the church and Mummy began to feel weak. We had to stop at Elene's to rest and she had so much food she made sure we had some to take with us but when we got home Mummy lay down and she has been up very little since then. I even brought her a bucket and she has hardly used it." The child held it up for Colburga's inspection.
    If I needed anything else to tell me, here it is, Colburga thought, staring at the bucket's tar-black contents. Poison; there was no doubt about it. But how?
    "What's you name, child?" she asked to give herself time to think.
    "Hild." She smiled up at Colburga, confident that an adult would be able to set things right, especially a sorceress.
    "Hild, did your mother eat anything unusual at the Saint's day mass?"
    The child furrowed her little brows to consider the question carefully. Her solemnity was so droll, Colburga had to hide a smile. "We had some bread before we went to hear the stories."
    "But nothing else?"
    "No." She sounded quite certain. "Mummy spoke with Father Wulfraed aside as she always used to do with Father Edmund before."
    "You mean for confession?" Colburga asked.
    Hild nodded. "But she didn't stop to talk with anyone else, because Mummy said we needed to go home, so we came straight away."
    Puzzling. Such a poison would have to been taken only a short time before illness set in. Perhaps one of the other women had been envious and slipped her something when the child did not see. Looking around their tiny home, it was hard to believe anyone could envy their lot, but it took very little to provoke it sometimes. Although she now lay pale and drawn, Hild's mother was certainly a very pretty woman who might catch a husband's eye and a wife's wrath. Of course the important thing was to turn the tide of poison, if it could still be done. The yellowness of her eye and the purple of her nail were not good signs, yet Colburga could but try. She had her reputation to live up to anyway. Her success may be attributed to the exquisite bottles of dragon's tears, but it was her skill as a healer that kept her reputation intact.
    "Have you some wood for the fire?" It appeared that the kitchen hearth had lain cold for days. What had the child been eating?
    Hild ran over to the corner, picked up a few sticks of kindling and handed them over dutifully. Colburga frowned. These bits would not begin to get the water warm, but they didn't have time to go search for wood now. She reached over to fish through her basket to find a couple of sceatta. "Take these coins to one of your neighbors and ask them to give you some wood." Hild ran off at once.