4 - Temple of the Winds, page 35
''But the sick boy's family doesn't have it, and they lived with him. His mother tended to him. Wouldn't she have it, at least, if that were true?"
Drefan considered his words carefully. "Several times I have seen isolated outbreaks of the plague. One time, when I was young and in training, I went with an older healer to a town, Castaglen Crossing, that had been visited with the plague. From this place, I learned much of what I know about the sickness.
"It started when a merchant came with his wagon of goods to sell. It was reported that when he arrived, he was coughing, vomiting, and complaining of agonizing headaches. In other words, the plague was already upon him before he arrived in Castaglen Crossing. We never knew where he came to have it, but it could have been that he drank envenomed water, stayed with a sick farmer, or that the spirits chose to strike him with it.
"The townspeople, wishing to do a trusted merchant a kindness, put him up in a room, where he died the next morning. Everyone remained well for a time, and they thought the danger had passed them by. They soon Forgot about the man who had died among them.
"Because of the confusion brought on by the sickness and death by the time we arrived, the accounts were varied, but we were able to determine that the first townsperson became sick with the plague at least fourteen days, by some accounts, or as many as twenty days, by others, after the merchant arrived."
Richard pinched his lower lip as he thought. "Kip was well at the Ja'La game a few days back, so that would mean that he really became ill with it sometime before."
Despite being mournful over the boy's death. Richard felt great relief that what he had been thinking didn't seem to be plausible. If Kip got the plague long before the Ja'La game. then Jagang didn't have anything to do with it. The prophecy wasn't involved.
But then, why the warning of the winds hunting him?
"That would also mean," Drefan said, "that the dead boy's family may yet become sick. They look well at the moment, but they may already be fatally infected with plague. Just as were the people of Castaglen Crossing."
"Then." Nadine said, "we may all have caught it just from being in the room with the boy. That awful smell was his sickness. We may all have the plague from breathing it in. but won't know it for a couple of weeks yet."
Drefan shot her a condescending look. "I can't deny that it's possible. Do you wish to run away, herb woman, and spend the next two or three weeks preparing for death by living out the things you always wanted to do?" Nadine lifted her chin. "No. I'm a healer. I intend to help." Drefan smiled in that private, knowing way he had. "Good. then. A true healer is above the phantom evils he chases."
"But she may be right," Richard said. "We may all already be infected with the plague."
Drefan lifted a hand, warding off the concern. "We mustn't let fear rule us. When I was in Castaglen Crossing, I cared for many people who were in death's grip, people just like that boy. So did the man who took me there. We never became sick.
"I was never able to determine any pattern to the plague. We touched the sick every day and never became sick. Possibly because we were with the sick so much that our bodies knew it well, and were able to strengthen us against its corruption.
"Sometimes, a member of a family would come down sick and thereafter every member of the family, even those who stayed away from the sick room, succumbed to the plague and all died. In other homes, I witnessed, one. or even several, children come down sick with the plague and die, yet their mothers who tended them nearly every moment never became ill, nor did any other member of the household."
Richard sighed in frustration. "Drefan, all this isn't very helpful. Maybe this. maybe that, sometimes yes, sometimes no."
Drefan wiped a hand wearily across his face. "I'm just telling you what I've seen, Richard. There are people who will tell you for sure that it is this or it is that. Shortly, there will be people in the streets who will be selling indisputable cures, unquestionable preservatives against the plague. Hucksters all. "What I am telling you is that I don't know the answers. Sometimes knowledge is beyond our limited understanding. It's one of our tenets, as healers, that it is a wise man who admits the limits of his knowledge and skill, and that pretending either causes harm."
' 'Of course." Richard felt foolish to have pressed for answers that weren't there. "You're right, of course. It's better to know the truth than hang hope on lies."
Richard looked to see where the sun was in the sky, but clouds were moving in, obscuring it. A cold wind was coming up. At least it wasn't hot. Drefan had said that the plague spread worst in heat.
He looked back at Drefan. "Are there any herbs-or anything-that you do know will help prevent it, or cure it?"
"A standard precaution is to treat the home of sick people with smoke. It is said the smoke may purge the air of the effluvia. There are herbs that are recommended for smoking sick rooms. I would think it a wise precaution, at least, but I wouldn't count on it.
"There are other herbs that can help with the complaints of the plague-the headaches, sickness of the stomach, things like that-but none that I know of that will cure the plague itself. Even with these treatments, the person will likely die just the same, but they may have some comfort from the herbs before they pass."
Kahlan touched Drefan's arm. "Do all the people who come down with the plague die? Are all who catch it doomed?"
Drefan smiled in reassurance to her. "No, some recover. In the beginning not as many, and in the end of the outbreak more. Sometimes, if the infection can be urged to a head and the poison drained away, then the person will recover, but will complain for the rest of their life about the torture of the treatment."
Richard saw Yonick come out the door. He put his arm around Kahlan's waist and pulled her close. "So we all may already be infected."
Drefan watched his eyes a moment. "It's possible, but I don't believe it so." Richard's head was pounding, but it wasn't from any plague; it was from lack of sleep, and dread.
"Well, then, let's go to the other boys' homes and see what we can find out. We need to know as much as we can."
CHAPTER 30
The first boy they went to see, Mark, was fine. Mark was happy to see Yonick, and wondered why he hadn't seen him and his brother. Kip. for the last few days. The young mother was frightened by the important strangers who had appeared at her door inquiring after the health of her son. Richard was relieved that Mark, who had been in the Ja'La game with Yonick and his brother, wasn't sick.
So far, only one boy who had been at the Ja'La game had become sick. It was looking more and more as if his fears about Jagang were just panicked inferences. Richard was beginning to feel the warmth of hope.
Yonick told a stunned Mark of Kip's death. Richard told the mother to send for Drefan if any of the family fell ill. Richard left the home feeling much better. The second boy, Sidney, had been dead since morning.
By the time they found the third boy lying in blankets at the rear of a one-room house, Richard's hopes had faded.
Bert was gravely ill, but at least his extremities weren't black, as Kip's had been. His mother told them that he had a headache, and had been throwing up. While Drefan saw to the boy, Nadine gave the woman herbs.
"Sprinkle these on the fire," Nadine told Bert's mother. "It's mugwort, fennel, and hussuck. They'll smoke and help drive away the sickness. Bring hot coals to your boy, put a pinch of the herbs on the coals, and fan the smoke at your son to insure that he breathes enough of it. It will help drive the sickness from him."
"Do you think that will really help?" Richard whispered when Nadine returned to his side, near the boy. "Drefan said he doesn't know if it will."
"I was taught that it was said to help serious sickness, like the plague," she said in a low voice, "but I've never seen anyone with the plague before, so I can't say for sure. Richard, it's all I know to do. I have to try."
Even though he was dead tired, and had a headache, Richard had no trouble sensing the helplessness in her voice. She wanted to help. As Drefan had said, maybe it would do some good.
Richard watched as Drefan pulled a knife from his belt. He gestured for Cara and Raina, who had both caught up with them after taking care of Richard's instructions, to hold down the sick boy. Raina gripped Bert's chin with one hand, and held his forehead with the other. Cara pressed his shoulders into the blankets.
With a steady hand, Drefan lanced the swelling at the side of the boy's throat. Bert's screams seared Richard's nerves. He could almost feel the knife slicing his own throat. The mother wrung her hands as she stood off a ways, watching with unblinking eyes.
Richard remembered Drefan saying that if the person lived, they would complain the rest of their life about the torture of the treatment. Bert would have cause. "What did you give Kip's mother?" Kahlan asked Nadine.
"I gave her some herbs to smoke the house, the same as I gave this woman," Nadine said. "And I made her a pouch of hop cone, lavender, yarrow, and lemon balm leaves to put in her pillow so that she might sleep. Even so, I don't know that she will be able to sleep, after .. ." Her eyes turned away. "I know that I wouldn't be able to," she whispered, almost to herself.
"Do you have any herbs that you think might prevent the plague?" Richard asked. "Things that would keep people from catching it?"
Nadine watched Drefan mopping blood and pus from the boy's throat. "I'm sorry, Richard, but I don't know enough about it. Drefan might be right; he seems to know a lot. There may be no cure, or preventative."
Richard went to the boy and squatted down beside Drefan, watching his brother work. "Why are you doing that?"
Drefan glanced over as he folded the rag to a clean place. "As I said before, sometimes, if the sickness can be brought to a head and drained, they will recover. I have to try."
Drefan gestured to the two Mord-Sith. They gripped the boy again. Richard winced as he watched Drefan slide the sharp knife deeper into the swelling, bringing forth more blood and yellowish-white fluid. Mercifully, Bert passed out.
Richard wiped sweat from his own brow. He felt helpless. He had his sword to defend against attack, but it could do no good against this. He wished it was something he could fight.
Behind him, Nadine spoke to Kahlan in a soft voice, but loud enough for Richard to hear.
"Kahlan, I sorry about what I said before. I've devoted my life to helping sick people. It makes me so upset to see people suffer. That's what I was angry about. Not you. I was frustrated at Yonick's grief, and I lashed out at you. It wasn't your fault. Nothing could have been done. I'm sorry."
Richard didn't turn. Kahlan said nothing, but she might have offered Nadine a smile to accept the apology. Somehow, Richard doubted it.
He knew Kahlan, and he knew that she expected as much from others as she expected from herself. Forgiveness was not forthcoming simply because someone asked for it. The transgression was weighed into the equation, and there were transgressions that outweighed absolution.
The apology hadn't been for Kahlan, anyway; it had been for Richard's benefit. Like a child who had been upbraided, Nadine was on her best behavior, trying to impress him with how good she could be.
Sometimes, even though she had once brought him pain, a part of him was comforted to have Nadine around; she reminded him of home, and his happy childhood. She was a familiar face from a carefree time. Another part of him was troubled over what her real purpose was in coming. Despite what she might believe, she hadn't decided it on her own. Someone, or something, had precipitated her actions. Another part of him wanted to skin her alive.
After they left Bert's home, Yonick led them down a cobbled alley to a yard behind where Darby Andersen's family lived. The srnall yard of mud churned with wood shavings was cluttered with cutoffs and scraps, several stickered stacks of lumber protected by tarps, some old, rusty two-man rip saws, two carving benches, and warped, split, or twisted boards leaning up against the buildings to the side. Darby recognized Richard and Kahlan from the Ja'La game. He was astonished
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that they had come to his home. To have them come to see a Ja'La game was a cause of great pride, but to have them come to his home was beyond belief. He frantically brushed sawdust from his short brown hair and dirty work clothes.
Yonick had told Richard that the whole Anderson family-Darby, his two sisters, his parents, father's parents, and an aunt-lived over their small workshop. Clive Anderson, Darby's father, and Erling, his grandfather, made chairs. Both men, having heard the commotion, had come to the wide, double doors and were bowing.
"Forgive us, Mother Confessor, Lord Rahl," Clive said after Darby had introduced his father, "but we didn't know you were coming, or we would have made preparations-I'd have had my wife make tea, or something. I'm afraid that we're just simple folk."
"Please don't be concerned about any of that, master Anderson," Richard said. "We came because we were concerned about your son." Erling, the grandfather, took a stem step toward Darby. "What's the boy done?" "It's nothing like that," Richard said. "You have a fine grandson. We watched him play Ja'La the other day. One of the other boys is sick. Worse, two others of them have died." Darby's eyes widened. "Died? Who?" "Kip," Yonick said, his voice choking off. "And Sidney," Richard added. "Bert is very ill, too."
Darby stood in shock. His grandfather put a comforting hand to the boy's shoulder. "My brother, Drefan"- Richard lifted a hand to the side-"is a healer. We're checking on all the boys on the Ja'La team. We don't know if Drefan can help, but he would like to try." "I'm fine," Darby said in a shaky voice.
Erling, an unshaven, scrawny man, had teeth so crooked Richard wondered how he managed to chew his food. He noticed Kahlan's white dress and Richard's gold cloak billowing in the cold wind, and gestured toward the shop.
"Please, won't you all step inside? The wind is biting today. It's warmer inside, out of the weather. I think we'll have snow tonight, the way it looks."
Ulic and Egan took up posts near the back gate. Soldiers milled about in the alley. Richard, Kahlan, Nadine, and Drefan went into the shop. Cara and Raina shadowed them inside, but remained on guard near the doors.
Old chairs and templates hung from pegs on the dusty walls. Cobwebs in all the corners, that in a forest would have netted dew, here netted loads of sawdust. The workbench held chair pieces being glued up, a fine-toothed saw, a variety of smaller finishing and heading planes, and a number of chisels. Several jack and long joiner planes hung on the wall behind the bench along with hammers and other tools.
Partially finished chairs, cinched tightly together in twisted ropes as they were being finished, or drying in peg-and-wedge clamps, sat about the floor. A carving horse where the grandfather had been when they came into the yard held a split billet of ash he had been working with a drawknife.
Clive, a broad-shouldered young man, seemed content to let his father do the talking. "What's ailing these children?" Erling asked Drefan. Drefan cleared his throat but let Richard answer. Richard was so tired he could hardly stand anymore. He almost felt as if he were asleep, and this was just a bad dream. "The plague. I'm relieved to see that Darby, here, is well." Erling's scruffy jaw dropped. "Dear spirits spare us!" Clive turned white. "My daughters are sick."
He turned suddenly and ran for the stairs, but stopped abruptly. "Please, master Drefan, will you see them?" "Of course. Show the way."
Upstairs, Darby's mother, grandmother, and aunt had been making meat pies. Turnips were boiling in a pot hung in the hearth, and the boiling water had steamed the windows over.
The three women, alarmed by Clive's calls, were waiting wide-eyed in the center of the upstairs common room. They were shocked by the sight of the strangers, but bowed the instant they saw Kahlan's white dress. Kahlan, in the dress of the Mother Confessor, needed no introduction to anyone in Aydindril, or most of the Midlands, for that matter.
"Hattie, this man here, master Drefan, is a healer, and has come to see the girls." Hattie, her short, sandy-colored hair tied back with a head wrap, wiped her hands on her apron. Her gaze darted among all the people standing in her home. "Thank you. This way, please."
"How do they fare?" Drefan asked Hattie on their way back to the bedroom. "Beth has complained since yesterday of her head hurting," Hattie said. "She was sick at her stomach, earlier. Common children ailments, that's all." It sounded to Richard more like a plea than a statement of fact. "I gave her some black horehound tea to settle her."
"That's good," Nadine assured her. "An infusion made of pennyroyal might help, too. I have some with me I'll leave in case she needs it."
"Thank you for the kindness," Hattie said, her concern growing with each step she took.
"What of the other girl?" Drefan asked.
Hattie had almost reached the doorway. "Lily's not so sick, but just feeling out of sorts. I suspect she's just looking for sympathy because her older sister is getting attention and honey tea. That's the way of children. She has some little, round sores on her legs." Drefan missed a step.
Beth was fevered, but not gravely so. She had a wet cough, and complained that her head hurt. Drefan all but ignored her. He watched Lily, in that analytical way of his, as she sat in her blankets, carrying on an earnest conversation with her rag doll.
The grandmother fussed with her collar and watched from the doorway as Hattie fussed with Beth's covers. The aunt mopped Beth's brow with a wet cloth while Nadine spoke words of comfort to the girl. Nadine really did have a soothing, kind way about her. She selected herbs from leather pouches in her bag and wrapped them up in several cloth packets, giving the intent, nodding mother instructions.
Richard and Kahlan moved with Drefan over to the younger girl. Kahlan squatted down and talked to her, telling her what a lovely doll she had, so as to keep her from being frightened by Richard and Drefan. Lily cast worried looks in their direction as she chattered with Kahlan. Kahlan hugged an arm around Richard's waist to show Lily that he wasn't anyone to be afraid of. Richard made himself smile. ' 'Lily,' ' Drefan said with forced cheerfulness, ' 'could you show me your doll's sores?' ' Lily held the doll upside down and pointed out spots on the inside of the doll's thighs. "She has ouches here, and here, and here." Her big, round eyes turned up to Drefan. "And do they hurt her?" Lily nodded. "She goes 'ouch' when I touch them."
