He shook his head slowly. “He did not, little one.”
“But why does He allow bad things to happen?”
“I do not know. I have often asked myself that question. I would suppose that everything happens for a reason, though we do not know what that reason might be at the time.”
Ailsa chewed her lip as she thought about it. He made sense and little made sense in her life; a distant father, an invalid mother, and a sister who was haunted by enormous responsibility. Tate seemed strong and certain.
“May I ask another question?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “I suspect you will no matter what I say.”
“Is it wrong to ask why you are called Dragonblade?”
His eyes twinkled. “I suppose not.”
“Then why?”
He lay down the arm he had been swabbing and picked up the other. “Your question will be answered when you see the hilt of my sword.”
She tried to picture what he meant. “Is there a dragon on it?”
“When you see it, you shall know.”
The thoughts were whirling in Ailsa’s mind. Tate could almost see them. She was a lovely child and seemed sweet. He didn’t mind talking to her.
A pair of men ushered through the door with a large copper tub between them. A female servant, an old woman with white hair piled atop her head, directed them to set it down. She had the voice of a crow, screeching at the horse dung that one of the men had tracked on the floor. Behind her, several house servants followed with great buckets of water and began emptying them in the tub with great splashes.
Tate continued to swab Toby’s arms as Ailsa stood out of the way while the tub was filled. Stephen returned after a short time, leather satchel in hand, and ordered the fire in the hearth stoked. When he began to pull out his medicines, Ailsa could not resist standing next to him and watching curiously. It would seem she was intensely curious about everything.
Stephen ignored her for the most part but inevitably she began asking questions and he was obliged to respond. She wanted to know about everything and he patiently explained the willow bark, the crushed poppy, the foxglove extract and so forth. Soon, there was a fine brew rising in the small iron pot hanging deep in the hearth. With his ingredients cooking, Stephen went over to his patient.
“She is still burning,” Tate murmured so that Ailsa would not hear.
Stephen ran his hands across her forehead and opened each eye in turn. “She will not survive much longer at thistemperature,” he said quietly. “We must get her into the water now.”
The tub was half-full with water that was barely warm. Tate put the rag aside and took Toby into his arms, picking her limp body off the bed. She was hot, sweating and overwhelmingly delicious. He silently cursed himself for his perverse thoughts as he took her over to the tub. The servants were filling it furiously.
“Get her into the water,” Stephen directed. “Hold on to her so that she does not slide under.”
“We will lose our grip on her in the water,” Tate didn’t want to have to hold her by her hair as she slipped around in the tub. “Like so much dead weight.”
“Have a better idea?”
Tate’s solution was to step into the tub, fully clothed, and sit down in the water. Stephen helped him adjust Toby so that she was lying on top of him and he had a good grip around her waist. The servants continued to pour water and with the next cold dousing, Toby went rigid and a hoarse cry escaped her lips.
“My God,” she rasped. “They are trying to kill me.”
Tate’s mouth was against her right ear. “Nay, mistress,” he said softly. “We are trying to help you. Your fever is out of control and we must get you cool.”
She was semi-lucid, unsure of what was happening to her. She looked at Stephen, unrecognizing, and began to panic.
“Let me out,” she struggled against Tate’s iron grip. “Let me out!”
Stephen gently but firmly pushed her back. Getting a good grip around her waist, Tate put a hand over her forehead and held her back against his shoulder.
“Calm, Elizabetha,” he murmured against her ear. “No one is going to harm you, I swear it.”
Ailsa ran up to the tub, putting her little hands on her sister’s shoulders. “Be quiet, Toby. You must not be upset!”
