There came a loud banging on the cottage door early the next morning. When Collum opened it, a balding, middle-aged man stood outside looking worried and sad.
“It’s my wife,” he told the healer. “She asked that I leave our son to watch over her and come for you. She’s much worse.”
“As we knew she would be, Oscar,” Collum said somberly. “Go back to your house. I’ll gather some things and follow directly.”
The man wiped at his eyes and departed.
“May I come with you?” Ainsland asked, as the healer placed various items into his bag.
“No. You’re too weak. You wouldn’t make it out of the door, much less into the village. I can’t be slowed by carrying you. Also, the villagers are already talking about who you are and where you came from. Are you ready to give them an answer this morning?”
“Anything else?” she asked petulantly.
“Yes. This woman is going to die, and I don’t know if you’ve ever seen someone die in such a way before.”
“I saw my husband die,” she said in a quavering tone.
“And you’re still shaken by that.” Closing his bag, he went on, “Oscar is the village tailor, and his wife has been sick for over a year. The woman has a cancer eating at her stomach. Death will be a mercy for her. I can do better to help her and her family if I’m not trying to console you.”
“How can you be so unfeeling?”
“I’m not. There’s a pattern to things in this world of ours. Every man, woman, and animal is born, lives, then dies.” He sighed then admitted, “I’m not going to their house to heal. I’m going to comfort and guide.”
“But what if someone comes while you’re gone? I’m not strong enough at this time to lift the wooden bolt for the door.”
“The blacksmith has fashioned a lock for me as payment for tending to his son’s burnt hand. I use it when I must leave my house. I wouldn’t want anyone to come in and take the herbs and potions I mix. They might well kill themselves or someone else by ingesting the wrong medicines or the wrong amounts of the right medicines.”
“But –”
“If someone comes, simply don’t answer the door. People know that when the lock is on, I’m not at home. If you must get out, then use the door to the rear that’s in the extra room. It can only be opened from the inside. Stay quiet while I’m gone.”
Ainsland lay on the bed for several minutes after he’d left for the village. She felt full of energy and was eager to be up and out of the bed. She considered straightening the cottage, but there was precious little to be straightened. Collum was an organized man. Ainsland supposed that he would have to be in order to keep his medicines and supplies orderly. Due to the nature of his work, he kept things clean as well. She dared not disturb the bottles and bags. So, she decided that she would investigate the small house and be back in bed before he returned.
Pain shot through her feet the instant she placed them on the cold stone floor. Determined to rise, she bit her lip and ignored the tightness of the skin on her soles. The fire was blazing, yet she was still cold. The nightdress Collum had put her in was much too large, and she shivered, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders.
“Much better,” she said to herself. “Now to move.”
The house itself consisted of one large room and one slightly smaller room. The large room was made of stone. A cradle had been positioned near the fireplace. There were four chairs in various locations, all padded with cushions and pillows that Ainsland assumed were filled with feathers or wool. A small table stood off to one side next to one of the chairs.
That must be where he eats, she decided. The long table must be where he works.
The longer table had no benches on either side. A stool had been placed in front of the fireplace. There was a deep basin for bathing in one corner near the hearth. A large bed occupied the space along one wall on the other side of the room with the smaller bed positioned on the opposite wall.
Ainsland was pleased to see piles of books arranged neatly on a low bench under the window. Expecting to find that they were all books on healing, she was surprised to discover that this was not the case. Although there were books on herbs and medicines, there were also books about history, theology, and even poetry.
Ainsland hobbled over to the door that led to the other room. In this smaller stone room, Collum had stacked clean clothing, blankets, rags, and sinister-looking tools. She quickly shut the door without going in.
She peered outside through the front window. Not far from the door was a well. She could see nothing else except grass, trees, and rocks.
Exhausted, Ainsland shuffled back to the smaller bed and collapsed. The healing gash on her leg was aggravated by her excursion, and her head was spinning. She closed her eyes against the dizziness, lying as still as possible in an attempt to will the pain away. Eventually, she fell into an uneasy slumber.
Ainsland dreamed she was walking in a golden field that lay beyond her town. Wearing a gown made of dark blue silk that had a row of tiny buttons extending along the front, her brown hair hung loosely down her back. A coronet of small golden flowers adorned her head.
She saw Collum in the distance. He was wearing the same brown pants and white shirt that he wore at the cottage, but they appeared to have been newly sewn. The cord had been removed from his blonde hair, which fell around his shoulders.
They met near a large oak tree in the center of the field. It was only then that Ainsland recognized the great disparity in their sizes. Whereas Collum was tall and well-built, she was small and slight. The top of her head barely reached his chest.
Neither of them spoke. Collum slipped his fingers into her hair as he bent low to kiss her. By the time he drew back, she was breathless and trembling. She took him by the wrists and brought his hands to the top button of her dress. With nervous excitement, she watched as he carefully undid each button until –
“Ainsland?”
She opened her eyes and saw Collum’s worried face. Two of his fingers were against her throat.
“You should have stayed in bed,” he said reprovingly. “Your fever’s back.”
“The lady you were summoned to see….”
“She’s dead.”
“Will I die?”
“Not if you do as I say.”
She meekly accepted the cup of bitter herbs then drifted off again and dreamed of her husband. In the dream, Kendall was the same man he’d been in life. He was forty-eight with wide shoulders and a shock of white hair. He had the same gentle smile and bright blue eyes, but in the dream, he desired her. He had come to her in the night, as she imagined a husband would come to his wife.
“Ainsland,” he breathed. “You’re so beautiful.”
He had said it to her many times in four years but never in this way. She reached forward to undo his belt and –
“Ainsland, wake up.”
She cried out in frustration as she awoke. Startled, Collum lost his grip on her shoulders, and she almost fell. He caught her in his arms and lifted her.
“Where…? What …?”
“You were walking in your sleep.”
“Did I…do anything?”
“Just walk. Why?”
“Nothing. I – I’m so hot.” She pulled at the sweat-soaked nightdress and said, “Make it better.”
“I’ll do my best.”
When Ainsland next woke, she was alone in the cottage. For an instant, she was overwhelmed with anxiety. Perhaps Garreth had found her here and had killed Collum. But if that was the case then why was she still in the house? Why wouldn’t he have dragged her off on his horse?
She rose slowly. To her astonishment, she felt fine. She was even hungry for the first time since Collum had found her in the woods. When she stood, her feet no longer hurt. The gash on her leg continued to feel tight, but her wrists had healed. She wished she could look at her back.
Walking out of the rear door of the house, Ainsland made her way around and passed the well. She spoke Collum’s name aloud but got no response. Then, she heard the running water of the stream.
Perhaps he’s gone to fish, she thought. I wonder if I can make it that far.
When she reached the brush that edged the banks of the stream, Ainsland hesitated. Collum would most likely chide her for being up and about. She slowly went forward and peered through some thick foliage. What she saw almost made her collapse with laughter.
Collum knelt in the shallows of the stream and was up to his waist in water. The large fish in his hands was wriggling and twisting in an attempt to escape. Collum was struggling to hold onto the fish’s slick body and kept losing his hold. He was wriggling and twisting almost as much as the fish.
The fish gave one last valiant bid for freedom. As it flew from the man’s hands, Collum leapt up after it. Ainsland stopped giggling and stared in fascination. The healer was naked.
She watched as he carried his prize to the basket at the edge of the stream. He had the same muscular chest as Kendall, but his hips were leaner, a younger man’s hips. His back was to her, so she was unable to see his face. She wished that she could remember what color eyes he had.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, Collum turned to move the basket to a more secure spot, and Ainsland forgot to look at his face. She stared at his groin and wished that she could get closer for a better look. She had never seen a man completely exposed in all of her eighteen years.
Collum reached up to retrieve his shirt from a nearby tree branch, and Ainsland beat a hasty retreat to the cottage. She was panting with exertion by the time she reached the front door and was relieved to see that Collum had not secured it with the lock. Trembling, she went to lie on the bed and immediately fell back to sleep.
She dreamed the same dream as before, except it was Collum in the bed with her instead of Kendall. When she reached out to touch him, she could not undo his pants. He pressed his body against her, as his kisses landed gently on her neck and hair. Wanting what she didn’t understand, Ainsland pressed herself harder against him. She woke, feeling empty and alone.
“You’d do well not to leave the cottage,” Collum told her that night.
“How – how did you know?”
“There was mud on the hem of your nightdress and dirt on your feet. Do you want to have fever again? If you go traipsing off into the fields or the woods and collapse, I may not find you so easily as I did the first time. How far did you go?”
“Not far, I suppose.”
“Don’t do it again until I say so.”
She nodded, trying desperately not to look down at his pants.
The next morning when she woke, the woman called Maggie sat by her bed.
“Awake, are you?” Maggie asked with a smile. “That’s a good thing.”
“Where’s Collum?”
“Off to set the broken bones of the miller’s son. He fell from the loft of the mill. I was coming up to see the healer as it was, so I offered to tell him about the boy. Collum asked if I would stay with you until he got back.”
“Thank you.” Ainsland propped herself on one elbow and asked worriedly, “Aren’t you feeling well?”
“I don’t feel any different than I did the day before, but I haven’t felt the babies move at all since yesterday and promised Luke I’d come here like the healer asked. Collum’s known for his powers when it comes to treating those who need it. If he can’t save someone, they couldn’t have been saved.”
“You have great faith in him.”
“We all do. He’s a wise man. Well, except when it comes to his own life.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He doesn’t get close to people like he should. Luke says he mustn’t because of his work, but there has to be more to it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, he’s been here for almost five years, and he’s never bedded a woman that I know of. I would have heard if it were any of the village girls or women. It’s not that they aren’t interested. It’s Collum who’s not interested in anything but his work.” With a wry smile, she added, “He’s so linked to the world, yet he’s set himself apart from it.”
“I see exactly what you’re saying,” Ainsland mused.
“He’s drawn to you, though he’d never admit it to anyone least of all himself.”
“I’ve been nothing but trouble to him ever since he found me!”
The door opened and Collum himself came into the house.
“Is the boy all right?” Ainsland asked immediately.
“He’ll mend,” Collum said, as he unloaded his bag. “But his leg’s been badly damaged. I doubt if he’ll ever walk quite the same again.”
“At least he’ll still be able to walk,” Maggie pointed out.
“True,” he said, as he approached the small bed. Looking down at Ainsland, he asked, “Have you been wandering again?”
“I haven’t.”
“Good.” He turned his attention to Maggie and said, “I see that Charlie’s asleep in the cradle. How about if I see to the babies before he wakes?”
“They seem to be sleeping quite a lot as well,” Maggie confided.
Ainsland watched as Collum rested his palms on Maggie’s belly and moved them from one place to another. Each time, he would stop for several seconds before repositioning his hands. His expression unchanged, he finally sat back and said, “They’re about the same. I do want to tell you that one baby is weaker than the other. This is often the case with twins. One may grow better in the womb, and the other may grow better out of it.”
“Can I do anything to help it?” she asked seriously.
“Not much. Get enough rest at night. Eat well. Stay off your feet as much as you can.”
“Stay off my feet? With Charlie crawling everywhere?”
“As much as possible. Come see me next week unless there’s a change before then.”
After Maggie and her son had departed, Ainsland said, “I like her.”
“She’s very likable,” Collum agreed, as he arranged some herbs in piles on the table.
“You told her about the weaker twin.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because it hasn’t improved. In fact, it’s worsened. All I can hope for is that it doesn’t die soon so that the other twin can have more time to develop before birth.”
“It’ll die for certain?”
Hearing the tone in her voice, he raised his head from his task and narrowed his eyes.
“You cannot tell her,” he commanded. “Already she’ll blame herself since she didn’t want two more babies to begin with. If you tell her now, it could kill her. This could kill her anyway.”
Ainsland paled and asked, “What do you mean?”
“The healthy baby isn’t in the right position for birth. Should the other twin die and birth begin before the healthy twin has time to turn, both twins could die unborn, and Maggie could die in an effort to deliver them.” With a shrug, he said, “It happens.”
“You unfeeling bastard! You speak of it like you’re talking of the weather!” she snapped. “How can you look on life that way?”
“Because it’s as natural as the weather. Because I’ve seen women die in childbirth before. Sometimes I can save them, and sometimes I can’t. I can’t allow myself to worry over what might happen. If she dies, I’ll grieve for her. If she doesn’t, I’ll be thankful. What’s so unfeeling about that?”
She turned away from him and didn’t answer.
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t call me a bastard,” he went on. “A bastard I may be, but it’s not common knowledge around this area.”
“You…you are a bastard?”
“I am.”
Ainsland forgot her anger, rose from the bed, and went slowly to the table.
“Do you know your parents?”
“I do.”
“And?”
“And it’s none of your affair.”
“You…you…man!”
He laughed and lowered his head.
“Ah, you try to insult me. And after I saved your life.”
“I may owe you my life, but that doesn’t mean you should be so….” She searched for the appropriate phrase. “You’re infuriating!”
“I’m sorry you find me so. Now, would you hand me that jar near your elbow?”
With a sigh, Ainsland did as he asked. By the end of the afternoon, she’d helped him with various tasks around the cottage.
“You’re a good assistant,” he said, as they sat down to a meal of porridge and dried apples. “When you’re not busy being a pain in the rump, that is.”
“A pain in the rump I may be, but I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from calling me that. It’s not common knowledge in this area.”
He blinked in surprise and then grinned broadly at her. As he brought his mortar and pestle to the table, Collum said, “The people of the village are talking about you. I told them who you were and –”
“You did what?”
“We’ve only good people in the village. They’ll protect you as they would me. Several of them have heard of Garreth of Blon and quickly told the others about his evil ways.”
“But what if someone betrays me?”
“They won’t. What would they have to gain by it? If they tell him you’re here, he may linger in their village and cause difficulties for them. If they don’t and he finds out anyway, then they can plead ignorance.”
“But my name would give me up.”
“Did you happen to tell it to Maggie when she was with you?”
“No.”
“Good. I hadn’t said it to anyone and had only told them your story. The village Elders suggested that I not say it, that neither of us tells them your true name. That way, no one can say it accidentally.”
“That’s all well and good, but what shall I be called?”
“Eleanor. I picked it arbitrarily. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Ainsland said crossly. “Did the Elders make any other suggestions regarding my future?”
“Well, only one.”
“And that was?”
“That I should marry you.”
“Marry me? What in God’s name are you talking about?”
“The Chief Elder suggested it might solve my problem of needing an assistant in my work and your problem of being chased by a wicked cousin who desires to force you into marriage. If you marry me, then you’d be Eleanor, the healer’s wife, not Ainsland, the hunted widow. It would only be temporary, of course. Once Garreth has gone his merry way and found other women to deflower, then you could be off to wherever you chose or you could stay in the village. Do you have a trade?”
“I told you that I ran my husband’s house. I was very good at it, but I don’t know that anyone in the village will pay me to run their house for them. I’m a good cook, seamstress, and am good at growing flowers. I keep sums well and taught those in our household to read and write. I work hard at whatever task I begin.”
“Do you then? It seems your husband knew what a profitable match he was making when he proposed to you. An excellent wife in every area he needed.”
“Yes,” she answered, staring at her lap. “In every area he needed.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to go to bed with me since it’s not to be a true marriage,” Collum said reassuringly. “It would be a legal union but could be dissolved if it remains unconsummated.”
She nodded morosely and asked, “When would the wedding take place?”
“As soon as possible. The sooner, the better. That will protect you from Garreth immediately.”
“Who would marry us?”
“Adric is the local priest. He said he could perform the ceremony tomorrow.”
Ainsland went out to the well later that night and stood looking up at the stars and the two moons that shone down on Etherea. She was about to be married for the second time in her young life. Once again, it was not a marriage of passion or romance. It was a marriage to save her from her own uncertain fate.
Collum was a decent man like Kendall, but, due to circumstance or temperament or whatever unknown reason, he was not interested in her as a woman. To him, she was a widowed girl who needed protecting. She would also be a means to an end for him, just as she’d been for her first husband.
“The healer’s wife,” she sighed. “For a time.”