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“IT’S DONE,” DARA SAID as she sealed the letter with candle wax. She turned to Lothar, who was sharpening his knife on a flat stone.
Her body warmed to his smile as he looked at her while he placed the sharpened knife in the leather sheath at his waist.
“I will take it to the knee-bender now, while you finish eating your porridge.” He pointed to the bowls on the table.
“You haven’t finished yours.”
“I’m full from the cheese and bread you set out while the porridge cooled.” He rubbed his stomach, but Dara noticed the grimace on his lips.
“Maybe Park and Serle would like it instead.”
“You don’t have to feed them, Valkyrie.”
“It’s a gesture; besides, I’d hate for it to go to waste.”
Lothar walked up to Dara and wrapped his arms around her. “You have a good heart, Dara, but your generosity will be the death of you.” He kissed the top of her head, turned, picked up the bowl of porridge and the letter. “I’ll be back soon.” He walked to the door and departed.
Dara turned to her bowl of porridge, picked up the spoon, ate a few bites of the porridge, then set it down. Her own stomach turned in nervous knots as she thought about what she wrote in the letter. Would her father understand that she enjoyed her life as Priestess? She understood he was trying to convert his kingdom to Christianity, but would he send soldiers the next time to force her to stop her religious practices at the circle of stone? She knew she’d been lucky so far, that he kept a High Druid to appease the people. But then there was the knee-bender, Abbot Sean, who had a talent for having people change their way of thinking with a few phrases, and not be offending. Dara remembered having fish dinner and Christian prayer being said at her table. She liked the knee-bender anyway.
Dara stood and walked to the chest at the foot of the pallet. She opened it and scanned the bottles inside for wild marjoram to settle her stomach and nerves. Opening the bottle, she carefully tore a dark dry leaf in half, closed the bottle and shut the chest. She took the thumb-sized leaf to the table and set it in the wooden mortar and ground the herb with the pestle to a fine powder. She grabbed the honey jar from the shelf, opened it and picked up the spoon from the porridge. She swirled a small amount of sticky sweetness from the jar with the wooden honey dripper onto the spoon, sprinkled the powder over the honey then swallowed the medicine. She repeated the process twice more, until all the powder was gone. She rinsed the spoon and placed it back on the table next to the porridge.
She sat on the stool, closed her eyes and pushed her hair back from her face, then crossed her arms and laid her head down to rest on the table.
“Where’s the Priestess?”
Dara heard a woman’s frantic voice outside.
She rushed to the door and opened it. She saw a woman carrying a small child in her arms and Serle pointing towards her hut.
“Come in,” she ushered the dark-haired woman into her home. “What brings you here?”
“I heard you were a healer. Is that true?” the woman asked as she stepped inside.
“Yes,” Dara lead the woman to the stool at the table.
“My Pegeen, here, she’s very sick.” The woman pulled the wool blanket tighter around the small child cradled to her chest, sat and rocked her back and forth.
“Hold still so that I can take a look.” Dara gently brushed back the child’s hair, noting the fever on her forehead; the child’s skin pallid, her eyes rimmed with red and a bluish tinge to her lips. She pulled back the blanket, leaned down and placed her ear to the child’s thin chest, listening to the gurgling that accompanied each shallow breath. She recovered the child with the blanket.
Dara stood and looked down to the woman, noting that she appeared very thin and pale herself. “How long has she been like this?”
“Pegeen took ill two nights ago, but turned worse this morning.”
“You can give her some of the porridge to eat, while I look to find some remedy.”
“Will it help?”
“It should strengthen her body to withstand treatment.” Dara walked over to her book of healing arts to find an herbal remedy. Intermittingly, she watched the two strangers from the corner of her eye as she searched her book.
She glimpsed the child eating a few spoonfuls of the porridge her mother held up for her, before laying her head down against the mother’s chest. The woman set the spoon into the bowl, cradled her daughter, just slowly rocking and comforting the child as best she could. Dara listens as the mother hums a tune to the child, remembering her own mother doing the same when she was small.
Dara closed her book, walked to the chest for the bottle of borage flowers to grind up for the child and her mother. Dara picks out the bottle and closed the chest.
Walking past the woman, Dara heard the child take a deep breath and let it out.
Silence.
Dara inhaled quickly, stopped and set the bottle on the floor next to the stool. Placing her head against the girl’s chest, she tried to hear a heartbeat, or her lungs fill with air.
Nothing.
“Goddess, bless and welcome this child, Pegeen.” Dara said over the girl’s head.
“Why are you saying that?” The woman looks wide-eyed at her, then back to her daughter. She started shaking the child to wake her, but there was no movement.
“Witch! Sorceress!” she yelled clutching her child to her chest. “You killed my daughter with your black magic, and you tried to poison me as well. Murderer!” She held the child and ran to the door just as Park and Serle opened it. She rushed past them, carrying the child into the forest.
* * *
“WHAT WENT ON HERE?” Park asked.
“The woman blames me for poisoning her child with the porridge.”
“The same porridge, Lothar gave us?” Park asked.
Dara nodded.
“You tried to poison us too then!” Serle fumed, pushing Park out the door in front of him, then slammed the door behind him. “You stay in there, witch,” he yelled, then turned. “Park, guard the door.” Serle commanded. “If she tries to escape, use any means necessary to keep her here. I’m going to inform the king, and bring the garrison.”
* * *
RETURNING TO THE HUT, Lothar saw Park outside the door. “You better have a good reason to be out here.”
“I’m guarding her.”
“Good.” He walked to the door.
Park refused to move. “I’m waiting for Serle to return with orders from the king.”
“You’re not making any sense.” Lothar shook his head. “Now move, or you’ll have another bloody nose.”
Lothar watched Park swallow hard, then step aside from the door. Lothar looked down at Park as he walked past him, opened the door and closed it behind him. Dara was at the table with her hands over her face. He walked to her, knelt, then rubbed her back.
“Dara,” he said softly “tell me what happened to make you cry.”
Dara sniffed, then raised her head to face him. “A woman accuses me of killing her child.”
“This cannot be true. Tell me everything that happened.”
“She came here carrying a small girl who appeared to have consumption. She looked so fragile, but she had a peaceful look on her little face. I didn’t even have a chance to treat her. The mother said I’m a witch and that I poisoned the girl with the porridge, then she ran out with the child in her arms.” Tears were welling in her eyes as she recalled everything that happened.
“And Park is guarding the door, not to protect you, but to keep you inside.”
Dara sniffed and nodded.
“I know you didn’t harm the child.” Lothar held Dara to his chest, stroking her hair.
“Please take me away from here before Serle arrives with men to take me away.” Dara pleaded between sniffs.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her back, then raised her chin.
“Running away from this accusation will only make this worse, Dara. You have to see this through.”
“But if I’m found guilty, they’ll burn me.”
He closed his arms around her. “We will think of something, my Valkyrie.”
* * *
“YOUR MAJESTY,” SERLE bowed. “I request to take men from the garrison to bring back a killer.”
“Who is this dangerous person?” Malachy asked.
“Your daughter.”
“Do you have proof?”
“She tried to poison me and Park.”
“You seem to be very healthy for a dead man. What other evidence do you have?”
“A woman came to her home carrying a child, then a short time later left screaming that the witch killed her daughter.”
“Lies!” Malachy slammed his hand against the arm of his chair. “You’re still angry about Vaughn being caught seducing my daughter, attempting to gain my favor. He drowned because he was drunk and decided to go swimming.” Malachy narrowed his eyes. “So, until this woman comes forward, you will stop with these accusations.”
“Yes, King Malachy.”
“And you and Park will stay and guard her.”
“For her protection or ours?”
“Out!”
Serle bowed, pivoted, then departed the chamber.
“Where’s your other half?”
Serle turned to see Lloyd carrying a satchel of eggs to the kitchen.
“Park is guarding someone.”
“Who, the witch?”
“How did you know?”
“Rowena came running in my house to see my wife, and told her about her Pegeen. Are you here to get men to bring the witch to justice?”
“The king said Rowena has to formerly accuse her, until then I’m to guard the priestess.”
“Rowena’s livid. I’m not sure she wants a trial. I’ll tell her when the time is right.”