She backhanded her brow, wiping the perspiration away. A slight motion caught her attention. A young girl of possibly ten years stepped forward, her blond hair twisted in a braid. She wore a grayléine, and her feet were bare.
The girl spoke a lilting mix of Irish, words Isabel could not understand. But she did understand the clay mug the girl held out.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the drink. The ale was not cool, but it was the first time anyone had offered her hospitality. She gave the mug back after she’d finished, offering a slight smile. Gesturing toward the pile of stone, she asked, “Would you like to help?”
The girl glanced back at her mother who shook her head. Isabel hid her disappointment. Instead she continued her work, setting stone upon stone.
She stopped for a few bites to eat when the sun reached its summit. It was at that moment she heard excited voices and many of the children scampered through the entrance to the ringfort, chattering about something.
Isabel rose and saw Sir Anselm carrying a young woman. Both of them were soaked to the skin. She didn’t stop to wonder why he’d come to Ennisleigh but raced forward. At the sight of the woman’s pale face, she recognized her. It was Sosanna, the silent woman from Laochre.
“What happened?” she asked.
“She jumped from the cliff,” Anselm replied grimly. “Her brother is one of the Irish rebels. If he finds out what happened to her, he’ll blame my men.”
Isabel understood. “Bring her inside the hut. Help me build a fire and we’ll look after her.”
The islanders followed Sir Anselm, hovering around the entrance to the hut. Isabel sent him in first and then stopped the people at the door.
“Don’t worry,” she said. One of the women stepped forward, gesturing that she wanted to come inside. It was the mother of the girl who had brought the ale.
Isabel realized they would not believe her intent to help Sosanna unless they saw it for themselves. She beckoned to the young girl’s mother and her daughter. “Come and help me.”
If they worked together, perhaps the woman might begin to trust her. Isabel pushed open the hide-covered door and stepped back.
The woman went inside without hesitation, and Isabel left the door open. Sir Anselm had already laid Sosanna upon a pallet and now he stood nearby, watching over the young woman.
Isabel introduced herself and Anselm. She learned that the child’s name was Orla, and her mother Annle.
Annle knelt beside Sosanna. Her hands moved with the expertise of a healer, checking Sosanna for broken bones or other injuries. Isabel sat beside her, silently offering prayers for the girl’s life. “When did this happen?” she asked Sir Anselm.
“This morning, just after dawn. I saw her leave and followed.”
“Does anyone else know?”
Sir Anselm shook his head. “Only some of my men. But the MacEgans will know she’s missing and that I took one of the boats.”
“Will you go and tell Patrick?” Isabel asked. “Tell him that we are taking care of her on Ennisleigh.”
“Do you think that’s wise? The king may blame me for the accident. I was the only person who saw her jump, besides my men.”
“You had no reason to harm her. And all of us saw you bring her here.” She waved her hand. “Go. We’ll look after her now.”
He hung back, his eyes focused upon Sosanna.He cares, Isabel realized. For some reason the Norman soldier wanted to be assured that Sosanna would be all right.
“You may come and see her later,” Isabel said gently, escorting him out.
After he’d gone, Annle helped her undress Sosanna. The unconscious woman did not respond, and her skin was frigid. Annle touched the young woman’s stomach, and Isabel laid her hand upon it as well. They waited, and in time, a small fluttering movement rippled beneath Isabel’s hand.
She withdrew her hand, stunned that she could feel the unborn child moving. Never had she touched a pregnant woman before. Her mood grew somber. Looking at Sosanna only taunted her with what Patrick would not give her. She refused to lower her pride again. When her father arrived and found her a virgin, Patrick could face the consequences then.
Isabel studied Sosanna, who lay frighteningly still. Annle drew a coverlet over the woman, warming her frail body. She motioned for Isabel to wait and stepped outside the hut. Isabel stoked the fire to keep it warm inside.
When Annle returned, she held a basket. She withdrew a mortar and pestle, along with a bundle of herbs, instructing Isabel with motions to grind the herbs. The mixture of comfrey and wintergreen were good for bruises, Isabel knew. She mashed the herbs and gave the mortar back to Annle.
Annle spread some of the mixture upon a swollen spot upon Sosanna’s arm. When all the minor cuts and bruises were treated, there was little more they could do except keep her warm.
Annle lifted a pot of water to the hearth and then reached back into her basket for vegetables. She handed a bundle to Isabel, making the signs for food preparations.
