She’ll be okay, I tell myself and let the herbs in the cup drag me into a dreamless slumber.
Cupboards openingand softly closing wake me from the deepest sleep of my life.What did Siggy put in that tincture?The shape of a much younger woman takes form at the corner of my bleary vision. Bright red hair falls over her shoulders and down her graceful back. She’s in a woven tunic and pants, not usually seen on a lady. What am I thinking? I make a point of avoiding women.
Watching her through a barely open eye, I decide it’s best to pretend I am still asleep since she keeps looking over her shoulder at the door. Her glances dart over me to the rows of tiny bottles lined up on the shelf. She must not know what she’s looking for because she turns the bottles to see the colors of the herbs, instead of reading the letters Siggy wrote on the parchment.
Her blue eyes halt as we both hear footsteps coming from the hall outside the medicine room. I haven’t seen eyes that crystal blue in decades. She returns to her task with determination, but her hands shake in fear. The better part of myself wants to ask what she’s looking for. She seems healthy, so she must be here for a friend. But I can’t get involved in anything until I find Aslaug and what was taken from me.
As she turns, I close my eyes, trying to breathe as a sleeping man would.
“I know you’re awake.” Her voice a whisper. I smile like an idiot and fold my arms over my chest, keeping up the ruse.
“I don’t want to know what you’re up to, so I’m keeping my eyes closed.”
“Is that so?” I feel her body move towards me. “What happened to your face?”
I open my eyes slightly to see her worried brow hovering over mine. A hand that has seen work reaches out to touch the side of my face, but she thinks better of it and recoils.
“By the way you’re sneaking around, I should be asking you the questions.”
The color in her cheeks rises to match her crimson hair. “I’m not sneaking around. I need to help someone who can’t come here.” She presses her soft lips together in thought. Another shuffle of footsteps outside the door sends her on high alert.
“What do you need, and I’ll point you in the right direction.” Sitting up, I feel stiff and sore as I stretch my legs over the edge of the cot. I swing my knee joint, making sure I am whole once again, and tuck the wooden splint under the blanket so she doesn’t see.
“How do I know you’ll give me the right combination?”
“Should I find Siggy, the medicine woman?” I counter, and she sharply inhales, letting me know that is not an option. “What happened to your friend?” I ask with a less accusatory tone.
“She has a fever from an infected wound,” she admits, crossing her arms over her chest.
When I stand up, she takes two steps back, knocking her elbow into the work table. She is different from the little, old lady who patched me up last night. The two of us in the low ceilinged room take up much more space. She has nowhere to look but up at me, and I am overcome by a captivating, yet not ideal, vision for this particular interaction.
Clearing my throat, I avoid her full lips and intense glare as I gather the herbs she needs. I find a tiny spoon and scoop out different amounts for bringing down a fever into a small pouch.
“Every few hours, apply these herbs in a paste. Can you do that, or would you like me to go with you? I can carry your friend here. Siggy is a kind woman,” I offer suggestions. The red headed beauty stuffs everything I laid out in the inside pockets of her tunic and folds the fabric back down over her hips.
“Thank you for your help.” Without waiting for further conversation or a moment of awkwardness, she leaves. I never asked her what her name was. Finding another jar full of dandelion root, I muddle myself fresh tea and think about the ways I can gracefully alleviate the strain in my pants.
4
RASHA
The lynx woke up along with the rising sun and whined. While I slept, her massive, furry body acquired a fever from her infected wounds. I know from experience that if I don’t tend to the fever she’ll die, and my prayers will be for nothing. What I didn’t expect was for a man to be sleeping in the medicine room. A strong, slightly alarming man who looked like he took a beating last night as well.
Leaving the medicine room, I keep my head low and stick to the side of the hallway with the windows to pretend to look at the scenery, instead of wishing others good morning. The staircase to my room is empty, making my heart lighten, until I round the corner and see Jorvik pacing outside my bedroom door.
I’d tip toe back down the stairs, but he’s already seen me.
“Good morning, little sister. I’ve been out here for ten minutes knocking,” he scolds.
“I figured you’d be tired after last night.”
Jorvik searches my face for clues to my whereabouts, and I try to remain neutral. He still smells like ale and smoke from the fires. It doesn’t look like he’s changed his clothes from last night either, andI’m not sure that is a good thing. Jorvik likes to bed women, so I am astonished he’s outside of my room this early.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
“I went to bed early after you left me in the woods with Harald. And this morning, I went to get herbs from the medicine woman.”
“Why do you need them?”
