Chapter XIX

Nottingham, July 28th, 1194

Both the previous night and the one before, Guy had come to Violet's bedchamber. Both times, they had been sitting together, drinking beer or cider, talking about the daily events, or anecdotes of their lives, or memories of their shared childhood. Then, after a suitable amount of time, Guy had taken his leave to go and sleep in his own bedchamber, as it was common practice, for nobility, that husband and wife would sleep in different rooms.

"Do you miss Isabella?" Violet asked him tonight, after he had been recalling a very sweet moment with his sister and their mother Ghislaine.

"Yes, very much", Guy admitted with a sigh.

"Why don't you make someone looking for her?" Violet suggested.

"I wouldn't know where to begin", he complained, pressing his lips together.

"Where did her husband come from?"

"Stafford, from the namesake county."

"Begin from there, then. Send someone you trust to investigate if there's recent news about Thornton. Mayhap he still lives there, who knows?"

Guy reflected.

"I could send Gilbert", he said. He was inclined to trust his captain of the guards, who had always shown the right measure between obedience and initiative. It was not by chance that he had come to the position he was holding now for some years.

Violet nodded. "Based on what he learns, you can decide how to proceed: send Isabella a missive, or go visiting her…"

Guy sighed again. "I don't know what's best, between the two things. She might have not forgiven me for practically selling her to Thornton. Perhaps she doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

"Mayhap", Violet conceded. "Everything depends on the type of marriage she has. If Thornton has been kind to her, even if she doesn't love him she could still have an agreeable life and therefore she could not be mad at you. The only thing you can do is asking her."

Guy pondered it, then he slowly nodded. "Let's see what we'll learn, then we'll decide what to do."

Violet was struck about him using the plural we.

"I'll be honoured if you ask my opinion", she murmured. Her husband looked at her, surprised by her hesitant tone, and then he was surprised again, considering how it had felt natural to him asking for her advice.

"We're married", he stated, both for her and for himself. "I think 'tis normal looking for my wife's counsel."

"Not all husbands care about their wives' opinion", she objected in a low voice. She had no need to tell him she was referring to Charles.

"But I do", Guy assured her, feeling a tenderness to his heart. Although she was strong and resolute, Violet possessed a sensitive soul and she had suffered badly because of her first husband. He hated him for this, and he hoped he was burning in Hell.

OOO

The following day, Guy summoned Gilbert and instructed him to seek information about Isabella. Should he trace her, he mustn't tell her anything, but he should return to report him what he had discovered. By mutual agreement, they decided that the captain of the guards would leave the next day, taking with him two men, as it was never advisable travelling alone, with outlaws and highwaymen lurking on the roads.

Meanwhile, Violet had dropped by to see how the works she had commissioned were progressing. The carpenters had cleared the chapel from the pews, most of them being beyond any possible hope of restoration and would therefore end up as firewood while new would be assembled. The masons had begun scraping off the plaster where it was too damaged to be recovered. The glazier would come by in the afternoon to verify the state of the two stained-glass windows, as one of them had been crashed and the hole roughly patched up with a parchment of poor quality. The gardeners had already taken off most of the weed and even begun trimming the trees and shrubs. Tidying up the flowerbeds would require some time, but soon they would be able to plant late sword lilies, anemones, cornflowers, purple violets, and perform cuttings of roses and geraniums. As for the strictly medicinal herbs, Violet planned to transplant them from her garden at Chetwood.

"My lady Baroness", Fred called her. Surprised, Violet turned

"Yes?" she encouraged him.

"There's Ralf's wife asking for an urgent audience. She says her boy has a high fever…"

Ralf was one of Gilbert's deputies, a sergeant. He was a good man, married with two children. Violet gathered her skirt and began to walk fast. Fred stopped speaking and hurried after her.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, my lady", he went on. "You told me to look for you at once, should someone ask for you for medical reasons."

"Precisely, Fred, and you did the right thing", Violet reassured him. She had noted that all the servants in the castle acted with great caution and formality, surely a consequence of the often cruel way Vaisey had treated them. She missed the peaceful, easy way of Chetwood, but she hoped that, in time, the castle's staff would recognise she was a very different mistress, compared to the old sheriff.

She found Ralf's wife in the main hall. The woman bore the haunted look of one in an agony of distress and, as soon the baroness approached her, she threw herself at her feet.

"My lady, I beg you, save my boy!" she cried.

"No, no, don't do this" Violet soothed her, stooping and grasping her arms to make her stand. "Calm down and tell me what's wrong with your son."

"Reggie's been coughing for a couple of days", the young woman said. "Then yesterday he grew feverish. During the night his nose got runny, and now the fever spiked, he burns, he burns so much…!"

"Did you make him drink?"

"Yeah, I gave him water, he's very thirsty…"

"You did the right thing. How old is Reggie?"

"He turned eight years last May."

Good, thought Violet, he wasn't too young: the younger they were, the more likely they were fragile.

"I'm coming with you to see him", she decided. "Fred, I need an errand boy, someone with good legs."

"I'll send for Lance, he's smart and runs like a jackrabbit."

Violet nodded, then she turned again to the woman. "What's your name?"

"Geva, my lady… God bless you!"

"May God bless your boy, helping him to heal", Violet replied. "But is Reggie home alone, now?"

"No, no, there's Ema with him, my eldest daughter."

"Very good", the new baroness approved. "As soon as Lance arrives, we're going to them."

A few minutes later, a boy about twelve years old came in, a redhead with bright green eyes who introduced himself as Lance. Violet and Geva then left the castle, the errand boy on their heels, and headed for Cornerstone, the area in town where Geva lived. They needed about fifteen minutes at a brisk pace to reach the house. They entered the kitchen, a modest but clean room, and went upstairs, where the bedchambers were located. Reggie was lying on a small bed, his eyes closed and a cloth across his brow. Sitting next to him was a young girl around ten years old, who resembled Geva a lot. Seeing the noblewoman coming in, following her mother, the child sprang up and shied away

"Good morning, Ema", Violet said in a soft tone, trying to reassure her. "How's your brother?"

"He burns", the girl said. "I kept dampening him, but he burns more and more!" she added in a frightened tone.

Violet sat on the edge of the small bed – a simple wooden plank on trestles – and touched Reggie's blazing cheeks, then she moved aside the cloth to feel his forehead. The truly was burning high.

"I need more light", she said.

"Ema, a candle", Geva said. The girl ran out, returning soon enough with a tallow candle in a wooden holder. Violet signalled to Lance, who took the candle and brought it nearer.

"Here", Violet said, positioning him so that he would light Reggie's face fully. She bent down and opened his eyelids, noticing that his eyes were very inflamed. She then opened his mouth to examine the insides and caught sight of tiny white spots.

She had already seen these symptoms.

"I think 'tis measles", she declared. "We'll know for sure tomorrow or the day after, when he'll develop red spots on his face and body. Meanwhile, we must reduce his fever."

To achieve her goal, she needed herbs. Luckily, she had sent for part of her stock, waiting for her new workroom to be set up in her present abode.

"Lance, go to the castle", she ordered to the errand boy. "Have somebody taking you to my bedchamber. On the shelf in front of the door there's a leather bag: bring it to me."

The boy nodded, showing he had grasped the instructions. He handed her the candleholder and rushed out of the room. Violet gave the candle to Ema, who took it after a brief hesitation.

"Geva, did you get measles?" the baroness enquired.

"Yeah, I was around Reggie's age. Matilda treated me."

"Excellent, this means you're immune. And your husband and Ema?"

"Ralf had, Ema didn't."

Violet felt relieved: measles in adulthood are much more dangerous, but if Reggie's father had them, he too was immune. As for Ema, she would probably get sick, but knowing it in advance, Violet could relieve her symptoms since their first appearance.

"Fine, now I need a basin with cold water", she instructed Geva. "And two towels too."

The woman didn't waste time to ask for the reason and hurried to follow Violets directions.

"You can put down the candle", Violet told Ema. "Help me disrobing your brother."

When Geva came back, Violet dipped one of the towels into the cold water and began washing Reggie's sweaty and hot body, swapping the cloths with Ema's help, who dipped them and then wrung them out before handing them back to her. Violet had just finished washing the lad and had covered him with a clean sheet when Lance came back with her bag of medicinal herbs. The errand boy had apparently run all the way back and forth and was now out of breath. Violet thanked him warmly and ordered him to drink a glass of water and rest, preparing for possible new errands. Then, she rummaged through her bag. When she found what she was looking for, she went downstairs to the kitchen with Geva. Here, Violet threw a handful of chopped willow bark in a small pot full of cold water and placed it over the fire. She boiled the concoction for a few minutes, then she took it off the fire, covered it and let it infuse for double so long. Eventually she sieved the remedy into a mug and took it upstairs. She knew the system to make an unconscious person swig, massaging the Adam's apple to activate the swallowing reflex. However, there was always the risk of choking, so she was relieved finding Reggie awake, even if his feverish eyes showed he was in no way better than before.

She sat again on the edge of the small bed.

"Hullo, Reggie", she greeted him. "I'm Violet and I came to take care of you. 'Tis nothing serious, you just have to rest and drink a lot. Here you are", she concluded, offering him the drink. The infusion was still warm, but as she had passed it from one mug to another several times, it wasn't too hot anymore and the boy could drink it without scalding himself. Reggie looked at her, confused, but didn't pull back. Violet helped him to drink the febrifuge remedy, then to lie down again. She added dried and powdered mint leaves to the cold water for the cold compresses to increase the feeling of freshness, and then she instructed Ema to soak the towels in it and go on with cooling her brother.

A few minutes later, the boy fell asleep.

"'Tis true, my lady?" Geva asked in a hopeful tone, "'Tis nothing serious?"

Violet weighed the words she was going to use: she had no intention to lie or to give false hopes, but she didn't want to alarm the family too much, either.

"If 'tis truly measles, his chances to recover are high", she therefore answered cautiously. "But we'll know for sure only within the next couple of days, when the illness will progress. In the meantime, Ema shouldn't go out because she risks infecting other people. Once we'll have determined 'tis actually measles, you must warn all those who came into contact with Reggie in the last four or five days because they're most likely going to fall ill, if they hadn't measles before."

"Good heavens, and how would I know how many they are?" Geva worried, twisting her hands. "Usually Reggie plays with the kids in the neighbourhood…"

"You'll start from them, and asking them you'll learn how many more people there could be", Violet suggested, already beginning to be concerned about how she could fetch enough remedies for a possible epidemic. Besides willow bark, also beech and holly are effective against a fever. Besides, specific food had been singled out as being a good supporting therapy to prevent some complications of this disease, such as diarrhoea, otitis and pneumonia, which in weaker people or in very young children can lead even to death: eggs, butter, carrots, garlic, lettuce and, in other seasons, spinach, cabbage, broccoli, savoy cabbage, dandelion, pumpkin. All of a sudden, Violet realised that being the Baroness of Nottingham could mean a significant advantage, as she had just to issue the suitable orders and a host of people would jump through hoops in order to satisfy her.

"Will I too get sick, my lady?" Ema asked in a frightened tone. Again, Violet chose the truth, expressing it as gently as she could. "'Tis very likely, but don't worry: knowing it in advance, I can reduce the symptoms and thus the discomfort."

"But you, my lady?" Geva enquired at this point, "Aren't you afraid to get sick?"

"I got measles when I was younger than Reggie", Violet disclosed. "My mother, Lady Adèle, treated me, as she was an excellent healer. I learned from her."

"Matilda too speaks highly of Lady Adèle", Geva commented.

"Matilda and my mother often exchanged information, recipes and techniques", Violet said, trying to distract both mother and daughter from the thought of the illness. "They had great respect for each other."

She stayed at Geva's house until almost midday, administering Reggie a second dose of the willow bark concoction. She taught Geva how to prepare more of it, instructing her she should give it to the sick kid every two hours until late into the night. Meanwhile, she sent Lance again to the castle – not running, this time – to fetch a basket with eggs, carrots, garlic and lettuce, as well as a few loaves of bread. When the errand boy came back, she told Geva that, as soon as Reggie would feel hungry, she was to give him an egg, either fried or beaten with a little honey. She could also boil carrots and lettuce, possibly with garlic if the kid liked it, and serve them as a soup with some bread.

"I'll be back tomorrow in the morning", she said as she took her leave. "Should the fever spike, send for me at once", she added.

She returned to the castle with Lance, quite pleased with herself for having provided for the sick child. She expected Ema would develop the first symptoms within a sennight, but intervening promptly, they would be less virulent, and likewise for all those who had been in contact with the kid in the previous days. The disease wasn't too serious, but it could bring significant complications with it, therefore it was better to contain it and to isolate the potentially exposed people, whom Geva would point out to her.

During the midday meal, she talked about the situation with Guy and Drastan. Guy remembered an unpleasant episode occurred the year before, when Vaisey had ordered the test of a poison he could use as a weapon and pretended it was a pestilence, locking up an entire area in town using barricades. Luckily, Robin and Marian had unmasked the sheriff and his minion, and Djaq had managed to save most of the poisoned people.

Violet saw him darkening and guessed he was concerned at the prospect of an epidemic.

"You have no need to worry about the contagion", she reassured him. "We just need to isolate those who have been in contact with Reggie, and those in contact with those ones, and we'll easily manage to contain it."

Guy's gloomy stare cleared at once.

"That's a good thing, but I was actually recalling a nasty incident from last year", he explained. He told her and learned she knew about it. That was to be expected, given her friendship with Robin and Marian.

"Nasty business indeed", Drastan commented, who instead was hearing about it for the first time. "Good thing it ended well, or almost well."

"This time I don't expect any deaths", Violet said. "Although you can never tell, as if there are especially fragile people, such as very young children or old people, or physically debilitated people, 'tis still possible that they don't make it, despite the treatments. I'll do whatever I can."

"What about send for Matilda, so you can get some extra help?" Guy suggested, not without a certain amount of hesitation, because right after the poisoning episode, the sheriff had accused the healer of being a witch and Guy had of course been forced to assist him in the execution of the sentence she had been condemned to. Luckily, once more Robin's intervention had saved the day.

"She'd be a great help", Violet considered. "After the news of Vaisey's death, she moved back to her previous abode in the forest, together with Rosa and Alice", she added, referring to Matilda's daughter and granddaughter.

"I'll take care of it", Drastan offered. "Just explain me where she dwells. Then, with your leave, I'll pay a visit to Rebelle."

"Of course", Guy said. "This afternoon I can do without you."

After Drastan had taken his leave to go to Matilda and then to Chetwood, Violet thought about something.

"Good that Rivendale is close to Nottingham", she considered, "After the wedding, Drastan won't have to go a long way back and forth."

The chosen wedding date was in mid-September, and the tidying up of Rebelle's family mansion was almost done.

"Good indeed", Guy commented, nodding. "However, I'll keep his bedchamber here at the castle for him, so should he work until late, Rebelle can come here."

"Good idea", Violet approved smiling. Guy thought that seeing her smiling made him feel truly good.

OOO

The fear for infections was always great, even if it was about relatively harmless diseases such as measles, and therefore there was always a chance for riots. For this reason, as a precaution Guy instructed the guards to patrol the streets where infected people dwelt, so that they would keep watch and promptly intervene, should necessity arise. As they needed as many men as they could have, Gilbert's task to go looking for Isabella or news about her was postponed.

Matilda came gladly to help Violet treating the people that caught measles. With the precautions the baroness had taken, the contagion was limited to a dozen of cases, the most serious being an adult man who caught also dysentery but, thanks to the treatments of the two healers and to his stout build, fortunately he recovered in a fortnight.

After the epidemic was over, Violet perceived that the castle servants' behaviour had changed. They were still very respectful, but they were no longer as afraid as they had previously been, when it looked as if they were walking on eggshells in her presence. She felt very pleased.

That evening too, Guy headed for Violet's bedchamber. He had never failed to go, not even during the days, shortly after the wedding, she had had her moon cycle and therefore, should he desert her bed, no one would wonder about it. However, he liked this moment of the day, when he could chat with his wife in peace, very much. It was a very intimate moment of their unusual conjugal reality, if not for their bodies, certainly for their souls, and he wouldn't give it up willingly for any reason whatsoever.

A s usual, he knocked and, hearing his wife's voice inviting him in, he entered. Violet was sitting next to the window where, using the light of the setting sun, she was sewing a new shirt for him, in a fine linen fabric, of course black. This was a difficult colour to obtain and the cloths thus dyed faded quickly by washing, therefore Guy was forced to a rather frequent replacement of his clothes, with its related costs. But now that he had become sheriff and then even Baron of Nottingham, this wasn't a problem anymore. As soon as he came in, Violet put aside the almost finished garment and rose to welcome him.

As Guy took his seat, Violet poured their drinks – this evening she had chosen sweet cider – and then sat down next to him.

"Now that the epidemic crisis is over, I'll tell Gilbert to go and look for Isabella", Guy announced.

"Excellent", Violet approved, sipping at her cider. "I hope he'll find her, or at least news about her."

"I too hope that", Guy sighed. "I'd truly like to see her again, though I really don't know how she'll react, in case I show up."

The uncertainty in the black-clad knight's voice and behaviour was extremely unusual, if not unheard of, and Violet felt struck. It was plain that Guy cared very much for his sister and that he feared her possible rejection, although he was aware he perhaps deserved it. He hoped fervently that Thornton was a good husband and that therefore Isabella had no reasons of resentment towards her brother.

"Let's wait and see", Violet exhorted him. He nodded, taking another sip from the goblet, his brow wrinkled.

In the hope to distract her husband from his obvious concern about his sister, Violet decided to try and change the subject, finishing one about which they had talked as they dined.

"About the garden…" she began. Guy looked at her, waiting, so she went on. "They've almost done with the fixing, so I was thinking that I could go to Chetwood tomorrow and fetch the herbs I can transplant here. And as within one week the chapel will be ready, I could also go to Thurgarton to ask for some sacred furnishings and hire a monk to come and say Mass here at the castle."

Guy felt grateful to his wife because she was giving him something else to think about, so he promptly dedicated himself to it. An idea struck him, but before expressing it, he sipped at his cider again, taking a few moments to think it over.

"What about me coming with you?" he asked. It would be a way to be together alone, at least while riding from one place to the other, without the almost constant presence of servants or collaborators, and he wished badly to savour more moments face to face with his wife, besides in the evenings in her bedchamber, where very different things should take place instead of chitchats and he had, in consequence, to strictly keep that insistent thought at bay.

His unexpected suggestion pleased Violet.

"Gladly", she accepted therefore promptly.

"But tomorrow I cannot", he warned her. "Do you mind if we go the day after tomorrow?"

"'Tis alright, it makes no difference."

"Very well, I'll arrange things in my absence, so Drastan can replace me."

They continued their conversation on a light tone, and slowly Guy cheered up, driving the thought of Isabella to the back of his mind. It would be what it would be. She could forgive him or not, in both cases he would accept it, as part of the redemption process he had started by agreeing to become the pro tempore sheriff and beginning to make amends for his past misdeeds. Discovering he hadn't killed Marian had encouraged him, and also Violet choosing him as her husband. Now it was about time for him to make things right with another woman of his life, whatever happened.

At last, Guy took his leave. He brushed his wife's cheek with a very chaste kiss – he wisely avoided kissing her like the first wedding night, as not to push his luck – and left the chamber, carefully putting on a satisfied face to the benefit of the inevitable observers, although instead he was feeling frustrated. But under no circumstances he would let his frustration seizing control, inducing him to force Violet. She wouldn't refuse, about this she had been clear, but the more time passed, the more Guy wanted that from her part it wouldn't be mere acceptance, but desire and participation…