She hurried to intercept him, her heart right up in her throat and pounding so loudly she could hardly hear herself speak.
"Excuse me, sir," she said, trotting along beside him, then putting herself squarely in his path when he wouldn't stop. She held out her empty, mittened hands to him, and tried to put all the terror and pleading she felt into her face and voice. "Excuse me-my master's sick, he's got a fever, a dry fever and a dry cough that won't stop, he's been sick ever since the blizzard and I've been here every day but the Priest won't send anybody, he says there's people with greater need, but my master's an old man and he's having hallucinations-" She was gabbling it all out as fast as she could, hoping to get him to listen to her before he brushed her aside. He frowned at her when she made him stop, and frowned even harder when she began to talk-he put out a hand to move her away from his path-
But then he blinked, as if what she had said had finally penetrated his preoccupation, and stayed his hand. "A fever? With visions, you say?" She nodded. "And a dry, racking cough that won't stop?" She nodded again, harder. If he recognized the symptoms, sure, surely he knew the cure!
He swore-and for the first time in months of living at Amber's, she was shocked. Not at the oath; she'd heard enough like it from the carters and other rough laborers who visited some of the other Houses on the street. That a Brother should utter a hair-scorching oath like that-that was what shocked her. But it seemed that this was no ordinary Brother.
His face hardened with anger, and his eyes grew black. "An old man with pneumonia, lying untreated for two weeks-and instead of taking care of him, they send me out to tend a brat with a bellyache from too many sweets-" He swore again, an oath stronger than the first. "Show me your master, lad, and be hanged to Father Genner. Bellyache my ass!"
Rune hurried down the street towards Tonno's with the Brother keeping pace beside her, despite the hindering skirts of his robe. "I'm Brother Anders," he said, trotting next to her and not even breathing hard. "Tell me more about your master's illness."
She did, everything she could recall, casting sideways glances at the Brother as she did so. He was a large man, black-bearded and black-haired; he made her think of a bear. But his eyes, now that he wasn't frowning, were kind. He listened carefully to everything she said, but his expression grew graver and graver with each symptom. And her heart sank every time his expression changed.
"He's not in good shape, lad," the Brother said at last. "I won't lie to you. If I'd seen him a week ago-or better, when he first fell ill-"
"I came then," she protested angrily, forcing away tears with the heat of her outrage. "I came every day! The Priest kept telling me that there were others with more need, and turning me away!" She wanted to tell him the rest, what the old woman had told her-but something stopped her. This was a Brother, after all, tied to the Church. If she maligned the Church, he might not help her.
"And I simply go where the Priests tell me," Brother Anders replied, as angry as she was. "Father Genner didn't see fit to mention this case to any of us! Well, there's going to be someone answering for this! I took my vows to tend to all the sick, not just fat merchants with deep pockets, and their spoiled children who have nothing wrong that a little less coddling and cosseting wouldn't cure!"
There didn't seem to be anything more to add to that, so Rune saved her breath for running, speeding up the pace, and hoping that, despite Brother Anders' words, things were not as grave as they seemed. But she was fighting back tears with every step. And the old woman's words kept echoing in her head. If the Church wanted Tonno to die, what hope did she have of saving him?
But this Brother seemed capable, and caring. He was angry that the Priests hadn't sent him to Tonno before this. He would do everything in his power to help, just for that reason alone, she was certain.
After all, many Doctors probably exaggerated the state of an illness, to seem more skilled when the patient recovered-didn't they?
She had left the door unlocked when she went out; it was still unlocked. She pushed it open and motioned to the Brother to follow her through the dark, cold, narrow shop.
Maddie looked up when Rune came through the curtain. "Rune, he's getting worse," she said worriedly. "He doesn't know who I am, he thinks it's summer and he keeps pushing off the blankets as fast as I put them back-" Then she saw the Brother, as he looked up, for his black robe had hidden him in the shadows. "Oh!" she exclaimed with relief. "You got a Doctor to come!"
"Aye, he did," the Brother rumbled, squinting through the darkness to the little island of light where Tonno lay. "And not a moment too soon, from the sound of it. You go on home, lass; this lad and I will tend to things now."
Maddie didn't wait for a second invitation; she snatched up her cloak and hurried out, pushing past them with a brief curtsy for the Doctor. Brother Anders hardly noticed her; all his attention was for the patient. Rune heard the door slam shut behind Maddie, then she ignored everything except Tonno and the Doctor.
"Get some heat in this place, lad," the Brother ordered gruffly, shoving his way past the crowded furnishings to Tonno's bedside. Rune didn't hesitate; she opened the stove door and piled on expensive wood and even more expensive coal. After all, what did it matter? Tonno's life was at stake here. She would buy him more when he was well.
And if he dies, the Church gets it all anyway, she thought bitterly, rubbing her sleeve across her eyes as they stung damply. Why should I save it for them?
Then she pushed the thought away. Tonno would not die, she told herself fiercely, around the lump of pain and fear that filled her. He would get better. This was a conscientious Doctor, and she sensed he'd fight as hard for Tonno as he would for his own kin. Tonno would get well-and she would use some of the money saved from last summer to buy him more wood and coal-yes, and chicken to make soup to make him strong, and medicine, and anything else he needed.
"Boil me some water, will you, lad?" the Doctor said as the temperature in the room rose. Tonno mumbled something and tried to push Brother Anders' hands away; the Doctor ignored him, peering into Tonno's eyes and opening his mouth to look at his throat, then leaning down to listen to his chest.
"There's some already, sir," she replied. He turned in surprise, to see her holding out the kettle. "I always had a fresh kettle going. I kept giving him willow-bark tea, sir. At first it helped with the fever, and even when it didn't, it let him sleep some-"
"Well done, lad." Brother Anders nodded with approval. "But he's going to need something stronger than that if he's to have any chance of pulling through. And do you think you can get me some steam in here? It'll make his breathing easier, and I have some herbs for his lungs that need steam."
She put the kettle back on the top of the stove, as he rummaged in his kit for herbs and a mortar and pestle to grind them. Steam. How can I get steam over to the bed- If she put a pan of water on the stove, the steam would never reach as far as the bed; if she brought a pan to boil and took it over beside the bed, it would stop steaming quickly, wasting the precious herbs.
Then she thought of the little nomads' brazier out in the shop; one of the curiosities that Tonno had accumulated over the years that had never sold. If she were to put a pan of water on that, and put the whole lot beside the bed-