It was no ordinary illness, I knew that even without seeing the frightened expression of the village healer. In that moment, I knew two things: I was dying and I wanted to see my son. It was not only that he and Gaius were the only ones who might be capable of saving me, it was also – perhaps even more so – that I couldn't bear to leave this world without another glimpse of his face.
Gwen has a good heart. I appreciated her tender care, her cool hands bathing my disfigured face with a wet rag, and the sympathy in her brown eyes when everyone else looked at me with horror. But her kind-hearted attention could not soothe me as much as the sight of my boy. He spoke sweetly as he pressed a rabbit's foot into my boil-covered hand, but the only luck I needed was his loving hand clasping mine. It took all the strength I could dredge up, but I had to press my palm against his cheek. As my fingers brushed his skin, I knew that my prayers would be answered. The gods would look after him.
