The woman’s face transformed with wrenching pain. ‘He was a good lad.’
‘Where is your husband?’ Aileen asked.
‘Gone. He left us, when the demons brought sickness here.’ Maive emitted a sigh of disgust. ‘I hope the gods strike him with the illness, the coward.’
Aileen picked up her basket and searched inside until she found the stone vial of holy water. She poured a little on to her fingers and anointed Maive’s forehead. ‘I will do what I can to drive the demons forth.’
Even as she tended Maive, she remembered the burned body of the storyteller. Surely he had brought the demons of pox upon them. From the old healer Kyna’s instructions, Aileen remembered that the demons tended to move among the bodies of those nearby.
‘Has Padraig played with any of the other boys recently?’ Aileen asked. She filled the iron cauldron with water and set it to hang above the fire.
Maive’s voice grew softer. ‘He played with Whelon a few days ago. He wanted to go with the other boys to see Connor MacEgan, but he was not well enough.’
A deep chill pervaded Aileen’s skin at the mention of Whelon. It had been Whelon who had discovered the fallen storyteller. And if Padraig had fallen prey to the illness after visiting Whelon…
Her heart sank. By the saints, let it not be true. She closed her eyes. The water bubbled in the pot, and when it was ready she prepared the drink. She lifted the cup to Maive’s lips. The woman drank, but it was difficult for her to swallow. Aileen wiped her forehead again and saw the traces of small lesions beginning to form.
She needed help. If the sickness began to spread throughout thetuatha, she needed someone with her to tend them. Illona was gone, forbidden to help her.
Connor. The name was a prayer on her lips as she assured Maive she would return. Aileen lifted the skirts of her gown and rushed across the meadow to the forest where she knew he trained. The oaks rose high above the meadow like sentries guarding the hidden clearing. But Connor was not there.
She raced towards the sick hut, more than afraid she would find him gone. Would he have left so soon without saying farewell? Last night he had forced her to leave him. The thought of finding an empty hut filled her with despair.
Her sides ached, but she pressed onwards. The morning sun cast a sharp glare, and she shielded her eyes. When at last she reached her land, she wanted to weep with relief.
Connor stood near the animal pen, leading a mare the colour of snow. Young and seemingly gentle, the mare allowed Connor to take her around the circle.
‘You said you wanted a horse,’ Connor remarked, holding out the reins.
She had forgotten about it completely. At the time, it had been an offhand thought, a gift she had never thought to receive. The mare dipped her head to sniff Aileen’s hand. She patted the animal, her throat seizing with emotion. He’d remembered.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said, her voice breaking. Why had he bought the horse now? Was it meant to be a farewell gift?
He placed the reins in her hand. ‘I hurt your feelings last night.’
Aileen guarded her emotions, not letting him see the anguish brimming in her heart. She met his gaze with honesty. ‘Yes, you did.’
‘I never wanted that.’ He reached out to caress her hair, touching the strands as though they were silk. ‘Over the past few moons, I’ve said many things that I wish I could take back. I’ve spoken in anger and in haste.’ He let his hand drop to his side. ‘You never deserved to be treated like that. I wanted to atone for my mistakes. It isn’t enough, but it’s all I can give you.’
‘You could have given me a memory,’ she whispered.
He closed the distance and kissed her lightly. In his grey eyes, she saw regret. ‘You’re better off without me, Aileen.’
Silence descended between them. She swallowed hard, pain filling up inside her. ‘How did you manage it? The cost of a horse is very dear.’
‘I made an agreement with Seamus. My land in exchange for the animal.’ He shrugged. ‘Not that I had very much to offer.’
‘You cannot do this,’ she argued. ‘It’s all you have.’ She couldn’t understand why he would make such a sacrifice.
‘I won’t be needing the land, Aileen. Both of us know it.’ He cupped her chin with his disfigured right hand. ‘And I wanted to keep our agreement. As a healer, you need a horse for your duties.’
The strangling tide of grief spilled over. She knew, after this day, Seamus would banish her. How many more deaths would there be? She closed her eyes, praying for mercy.
‘The horse was for Whelon.’ She blinked back tears, remembering the dream she’d held for him.
He stared at her with confusion. ‘Whelon?’
She nodded. ‘He wanted to be a soldier. But he cannot run, so I thought he could be a messenger or a sentry. The horse was for him. To give him legs because I had to take one from him.’
