Then another thought struck me, and I found myself smiling in the moonglow. It was also entirely possible that the Power I had sensed in the child developing within me was strictly its own, owing naught to any lineage. Let it be enough that Gunnora had answered my question, given me positive knowledge. I thought of Kerovan, tried to picture him with a small bundle in his arms, looking as discomfited as most new fathers when first they gaze upon the squeaking reddish creature they must claim as their offspring.
Would he be pleased? With all my being I hoped so, longing for his return. Perhaps this would provide incentive for him to settle in one place, build a home. Though he had proven a capable midwife when Briata foaled, I did not fancy the thought of delivering our son or daughter in the middle of the wilderness somewhere, without a Wise-woman standing by—one trained in midwifery, possessing capable, experienced hands.
Counting in my mind, I realized that this child would be due about Midwinter Feast, when the breath of the Ice Dragon was at its fiercest. I closed my eyes, feeling sleep steal over me again, resolving drowsily—but firmly—that my lord and I would be settled in a holding of our own (be it cottage, Keep, or tent) before then…
During my time in the Kioga camp, I had had no reason (o practice my Craft as a Wisewoman, except as I had needed for myself. I could not forget the dark, closed face of Nidu, and it seemed to me that prudence might be the best course—to walk mum-faced, doing nothing that might seem to challenge the Shaman’s position.
Two days after my efforts at scrying, however, I was given no choice in the matter. Terlys’s voice reached me while I was still within my tent early one afternoon. Joisan! Joisan! You must come!”
I arose hurriedly, as the hanging shielding the opening of my tent burst inward at the force of her entrance.
“Joisan!” Terlys, usually so calm, clutched at me frantically.
Your Wisewoman’s knowledge—Janos is sick—you must come!”
“I will come.” I made haste to gather my bug of simples, overlooking its contents for my healing materials. “What ails him, Terlys? Calm yourself, tell me aught you remember.”
“I—he woke this morning with a headache, but seemed otherwise fine. Then this afternoon he lay down, saying he was tired. Just now, when I went to wake him, I could feel his fever before I even touched him. He will not wake, only tosses, moaning!”
“Fever… high fever…” I looked into the bag, satisfied myself that I was as well prepared as might be. “When we reach your tent, put water to boil. I must make a tisane of black willow and saffron.”
In the dimness of Terlys’s tent, I examined Janos. His fever was so high that his skin felt tight, stretched, and his eyes were sunken far into his head. I feared that if his body were not cooled immediately, he would have convulsions.
“Hurry, Terlys,” I said, pulling the child’s clothing off. We’ll take him outside, to the stream. Bring clean cloths and your ladle. We must lave him with cool water.”
We attracted some attention from the Kioga as we hastened toward the nearby stream, Terlys with Janos in her arms. I following with my bag of simples and a steaming pot. Jonka hurried over. “What chances, Cera?”
“Janos is very ill.” I hastened my steps as Jonka fell in beside me. “He has a high fever.”
“Where is Nidu?” Jonka asked.
Terlys did not turn as she answered, “I asked, but no one knew where she went, only that she has not been seen since morning.”
Reaching the bank of the stream, I hastily helped Terlys place Janos on a woven mat, instructing her to wet the cloths, then place them on his body. “When his skin has adjusted slightly to the coolness of the water, then use the ladle to pour it directly over him.”
While she began dipping and wringing the cloths, I hastily anointed myself with a healing oil, afterward lighting the three blue candles I had brought. Keeping one eye on Terlys as she labored over Janos, assisted by Jonka, I made a hurried but fervent invocation: “Gunnora, Lady who guards the innocent, bless and heal Janos of his fever. Help me in what I would do to aid him, in the Name of all Spirits of the Light. So may it be always by Thy will.”
Taking the still-seething pot, I measured pinches of the black willow powder from my simples bag, followed by several of the saffron, then a minute portion of sandal-wood for good measure. Swirling these three together, I waited for the water to cool, schooling myself to calmness, relaxing my tense muscles. I must put aside all impatience—use the proper disciplines.
Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, willing patience, a positive spirit. Little is gained in healing magic until the would-be healer can attain a calm, relaxed state and frame a convincing mind-image of the subject as completely healed… Concentrating on an image of Janos happy, riding his pony, I swirled the tisane until it was cool enough to pour some into the blue crystalline cup I kept for medicinal doses.
Moving to Janos, I touched his forehead. Terlys’s efforts with the cool stream water were helping—praise Gunnora, (lie tisane would make the fever vanish completely. Supporting the now half-conscious child, I urged the contents of the cup on him. He grimaced at the taste, but under his mother’s and my urging, swallowed, then swallowed again. Covering him then with a light sheet, we sat quietly for a little while. I held Terlys’s hand in mine, instructing her to think of Janos as well, as healthy. Keeping that image in my mind, willing his recovery with all my strength, I did not hear footsteps approaching from the other side of the stream.
What chances here?” The harshness of that query made me jump. Opening my eyes, I saw Nidu standing on the other bank, her hooded eyes, usually so blank, blazing angrily.
Terlys answered, when I held silence. “The Cera Joisan helped when Janos was taken with a sudden fever.”
“Helped!” Nidu’s disbelief was patent. “Dousing the poor child in a stream? Gagging him with potions? He needs drum magic, Terlys… not this—this—”
What further slight she was about to voice was never uttered. Jonka’s cry of surprise made all of us turn back to Janos. “Look, there is sweat on his forehead! I think the lever is breaking!”
Hastening back to the little boy, I felt his forehead and chest with relief; Jonka was right. Terlys carefully wiped the moisture from his brow, crooning softly to him, then was rewarded when he opened his eyes for a moment. “Mama… I’m thirsty…”
May he have water?” Terlys turned to me Of course. Such high fevers deplete the body. Give him water that is cool, but not cold.”
As we prepared to carry Janos back to the tent, I looked about for Nidu, but she was gone. After seeing Janos safely asleep, I gave the remainder of the tisane I had brewed to Terlys, explaining that he was to have another dose at sunset, then the last in the middle of the night.
“If he needs more, I will brew it in the morn,” I told her, “but I doubt it will prove necessary. Make sure he is protected from chills, and keep him quiet for all of tomorrow, at least. I will—” I stopped as the sudden thought struck me that perhaps I should step aside, let Nidu have the final words in the boy’s case…
“I will stop by tomorrow afternoon, if I do not see you in the morn,” I said firmly. Janos was for the moment my charge, and I could do no other than to see him safely well again. If Nidu could not understand the obligations binding one pledged to healcraft, then she was but a poor healer herself.
“Thank you, Cera Joisan.” Terlys took both my hands in hers. “You have given me back my firstborn, and someday I feel sure you will know what a gift that is. I am beholden, and Rigon and I freely accept our debt to you. I will watch for any way I can repay your kindness.”
“There is no way I can thank you for the warmth of your fire and the companionship you have shown me, Terlys.” I took both her hands in mine, more moved than I could express easily. “Gunnora’s Blessing upon you, upon yours.”