"The LORD will sustain him on his sickbed and restore him from his bed of illness."
Psalm 41:3

*********

It hung in the air like the mists of the Scottish Moors. It swirled and dipped over curves and eddys as they moved along. They couldn't see it, or hear it....but it was there, surrounding them, permeating their senses. And just like those Scottish mists, it seemed to cling to them....

"I hate this part of it, Ian." The firey haired woman stated simply. Although a part of her job as a healer, it never stopped raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. "Do you feel it?"

"Aye." Simply said, the man urged Horse forward a half-step quicker. It was the feel, the aura of sickness and Death, and Ian Blackthorn didn't like it any more than his wife did. His friend was here, in the middle of it, and that didn't sit well with him, not at all.

As they made their way toward Branwen's, Skye's mind was working overtime taking mental inventory of the herbs she had with her. "I have plenty of sage, and yarrow, and chamomile...slippery elm, thistle, and pennywort. Some cress would be good, along with perhaps a bit more of fennel. That should be easily found in the village. Oh, and rosehips...at the end of the season...rosehips...yes." The words in her mind, never spoken, but heard by her husband brought a smile to his face and he replied to those words in the silent way they shared.

"Do your thoughts ever slow down, my Shurrukai?"

Flashing her green eyes up at him, the silence was broken by her wry "And if they did, where would we be, Ian?"

No further time was given to the discussion as they arrived at the garrison where Branwen lay. Grabbing her saddlebags and hurrying inside, Skye stopped to wash her hands and forearms at a basin of water. Scrubbing hard with the soap, she again went over her mental inventory and hoped that what ailed the other woman could be cured with what she had brought. "Oh to have been given a little time to learn those others from the East....what I could do with that knowledge now." Hurrying in, she went to work examining the woman laying on a rough hewn cot. Skye frowned at the rustic frame until she noted the thick soft pallet the men had laid Branwen upon. The woman appeared to be asleep, and the redhead was loath to wake her. Turning a questioning glance toward her spouse, she received a nod in return and went to work examining the supine figure. Bones were checked for breaks, skin felt for fever, breathing listened to....and as Skye's ministrations got more and more thorough, her frown became deeper and darker.

"She's nae asleep....she's unconscious."

Ian's eyes widened momentarily, the worry only showing for the briefest of moments. "But she'll wake." Although he stated it, Skye knew her husband was asking a question.

"I cannae say. I think the first thing to do is perhaps try to get some fluids in her. I have need to replenish a few supplies in my herb bag. She's nae laboring to breathe....and she seems still, but not too much so. I think I can spare a few moments. Have they some sort of garden here?"

Ian shrugged and looked to the monk, who bobbed his head up and down in the affirmative. "Aye M'Lady Blackthorn, I would be happy to show ye the way."

Skye nodded, and followed the man out to the garden. Her husband stayed behind, using the time alone to ply his own powers and gifts over his fallen friend. Smiling in delight at the size of the garden, Skye eagerly stepped her way over the rows and hills and clumps of herbs and vegetables growing there. "Very nice Brother...very nice indeed. This should be perfectly adequate for my needs." But as she bent, removing her small dagger to cut the leaves and stems she sought, the gooseflesh raised on her arms and neck, and a feeling of dread washed over her as if a tidal wave. Skye paused...frowned...told herself she was being silly and began to gather more supplies. "It's because Ian is worried...because I am not sure what to do yet...'tis just a garden Skye...naught more. Dinnae tarry further, there is work to be done." And shaking off her gloomy thoughts, Skye replenished what she needed and headed back indoors to try to help Branwen and her husband.

09/2000


Fiat Lux II - Part IX

"Build ye houses, and dwell in them; and plant gardens, and eat the fruit of them"
Jeremiah 29:5

*********

Ian looked up as Skye came back in from the garden, cuttings of roots and leaves in her Hands; but he could sense by their soulbond that his wife was disturbed by something.

"What's wrong, love?"

She shook her head. "Ian, I don't know. Something about the garden, I can't explain it. This feeling of wrongness, I suppose, just came over me." She set her cuttings out on the top of the chest at the foot of Branwen's bed. "They have plenty of plaintain, thank the Goddess. I'll make a tea with it and some other herbs I brought with me."

"Plantain? Isn't that the one you used for the poisoned arrow wounds last year?"

She nodded, teeth worrying at her lips. "Ian, I can't put my finger on it. It could be any number of things. But plantain is efficacious for all sorts of ills, not just poison." She turned to looks at him fully. "I will do what I can for her, but if I can't, then it will be up to you."

"I know, love. I will Heal her if nothing else can help." He grinned. "If someone tries to kill me in my weakened state after, he can deal with you, the poor bastard." The jest got Skye to smile, which was what he had hoped. "We may have no choice. Penally seems to be a hotbed of disease, don't you think?"

"We should send back to Camelot for more healers of all types. So far whatever it is seems limited to a select few, but it can break out into a full blown epidemic overnight. I can't say that it will, but I'd rather be over-prepared than caught wanting."

"Alright. I'll mindspeak to Corwin."

Her face lit up. "Could you? And could you have him send the things your friend Ibrahim sent me?"

"For you, my firedragon, anything!"

Her lips twitched. "Anything? Hmm. I'll have a list for you later. We'll discuss it. Diligently."

Long after he left the room, she could hear him laughing.

*********

In a room in Castle Amber, a dark haired man sat in chair and smiled across at his wife. He was just about to suggest they retire for the eve when a voice spoke clearly in his mind. By the expression on Susan's face, she was hearing it as well.

::Corwin?::
::Aye, brother. Is something wrong?::
::Yes and no. Skye and I are fine. But there is a problem here. Let me show you::

Ian opened his mind to his brother and Corwin's was flooded with the images of the day's events, as was Susan's through her link to Corwin. A smothered snicker came from her as the sending ended with the talk about Skye's list. Corwin grinned. ::What do you need of me, Ian?::

::Could you send a rider to Camelot? Tell Uncle Ashe to get a group of Healers together and take them here by the Road? And there's some things Skye needs.:: He showed Corwin what the packages looked like and where in Skye's herb room they had been stored. ::Could you ask Ashe to bring them as well?::

::I'll do better than that. I'll bring them myself. It may take awhile for Ashe to get his party together. I'll be there two hours after dawn. Where shall we meet?:: When they had finished making plans and Ian ended the sending, Susan sat and waited as Corwin wrote a message to Ashe and sent it out with the man she summoned. Then she smiled and held out her hand to Corwin. "Come, husband. I've a list of my own to discuss with you."

*********

Ian let loose the last tenuous weaving of mindspeech fade away and glanced up at the clear Autumn sky. A wonderful night. He wondered if Skye would consider a discussion of her list beneath the stars. He chuckled and went back inside to Branwen's room. From the deep shadows on the far side of the garden, a figure stepped away to stand and stare at the door Ian had entered. Then it stepped back into the dark and through a hidden door, and only a small click as it shut behind him gave witness it was ever there at all.

11/2000


Fiat Lux II - Part X

"But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison."
James 3:8

*********

They never got around to the discussion of Skye's "list" that night. The tea she had brewed for Branwen took effect almost immediately, and while both she and Ian were happy it had, it meant a vigil at the sick woman's bedside the whole night. They sat together by her bedside and occasionally dozed with their head on the other's shoulder. Three times during the night Ian helped Skye as she spooned the tea into the woman's mouth, and once he gripped Branwen's hand and spoke soothingly as his old friend thrashed in the bed. Finally, just before dawn, Skye leaned into his arms with a sigh of relief.

"I think the worst is over. Her color is better, and she is breathing easier now. I just wish I knew what caused this."

Ian smoothed her hair. "She's lived a rough life, Skye. Most mercenaries don't live as long as she has done. Maybe she's just worn out."

"You really think that, Ian?" Green eyes looked at him waiting for his answer. "You told me she was a tough old bird."

"Aye, that I did. But even tough old birds eventually fall from the tree. I have to go meet Corwin. Will you be alright here?"

"You go. I'll nap here in the chair until you return." She kissed him, then settled down beside Branwen as he walked out of the room.

*********

"Hssst! Brother, over here!"

Llwyd squinted and shaded his eyes with his hand. "Who's there?" The sun was just beginning to set behind the mountains and the street was flooded in bright sunshine. A tall thin man with a thatch of unruly blond hair gestured for the monk to join him in the shade. "Pedrog, is that you?"

"Aye, Brother. Did you hear?"

"Hear what, Pedrog?"

"That elf feller!" Pedrog leaned closer and Llwyd nearly gagged on the stench. " He went up t' the meadow on th' north side o' town, and he met…" He looked about to see if any were listening. " a dragon!"

"Pedrog!"

"I swear, Brother! 'Tis true! Tudfwlch saw him walking out and was curious why he didn't take his horse, don'cha see, so he followed him. And he saw that Blackthorn meet up with a dragon! What d'ye think it means?"

Llwyd sighed. "It means Tudfwlch has need of something to keep him busy so he doesn't follow honest folk about. And so do you!" Pedrog mumbled something that sounded vaguely like an apology and scuttled off, leaving Llwyd to sink onto a nearby bench. Did Blackthorn speak with dragons? The man mentioned he knew some, the monk thought. Llwyd didn't care if the half-elf talked to rocks if the man could find out what was going wrong in Penally

"Brother Llwyd! Brother Llwyd!" Huw came running across to the monk. "It's my Margred! She's fallen ill, just like the others!"

"Go to the garrison, fetch Blackthorn and his wife. I'll go to Margred."

"Please, Brother don't let my Margred die!"

"Just go and fetch them, Huw! Now!"

The big man nodded, and then stopped to look back. "I'll kill him for this. I'll kill Elis."
He turned and ran away before Llwyd could speak.

11/2000