Her mood still grim and depressed, Lisswyn had returned to the hall and was preparing to go back to the gardens when Betta suddenly appeared before her.
"Come with me." The housekeeper's tone was brisk, but not rude, and Lisswyn silently did as she was bid, deciding not to question the woman.
Betta led her to a door near the entrance to the kitchen, and down the stairs behind it. It had never occurred to Lisswyn that there was a lower level of Meduseld, though of course it made sense for there to be such. It was surprisingly well lit, with candles in sconces every few feet that Betta stopped to light. The walls were of stone, hewn from the rock that the hall sat upon. They passed rooms that were obviously cellars and storerooms for the kitchen, storerooms of other kinds, and large empty spaces that seemed to have no designated purpose, before the housekeeper finally slowed in front of a closed wooden door. Opening it, she stepped inside, motioned Lisswyn to follow her.
Lisswyn did, and stifled a cry of delight. It was the weaving room, and was easily the size of several of the other storage rooms combined, with a spinning wheel, a loom, and along one wall, bolts of cloth and wool waiting to be spun. Positioned below one of the sleeping chambers on the main floor, the room had a fireplace in addition to more lamps and candles.
"The Lady asked me to bring you down here. She says you're a weaver?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "She said to tell you that you can make whatever you want, particularly for the women of Edoras who shared their clothing with you, but also noted that winter is coming, and heavier cloth for cloaks would not go amiss."
Lisswyn turned to her. There was a guarded, cautious look in Betta's eyes, a look she couldn't interpret. "Of course." She hesitated. "Forgive me for asking this – I still don't quite understand how things work. But surely this should wait until after harvest?"
Oddly enough, the look cleared somewhat from Betta's eyes, replaced with satisfaction, and respect. "She said you'd say that. You're correct, and you'll still spend part of your time in the gardens. But with the rest of your people helping out there, as well, there's no need for you to be there all the time, and there is a need – or will be, soon – for winter clothes. There are two other weavers in Edoras who trade with Meduseld, but the weaver directly attached to the hall left in the summer, to return to the village of her youth."
Lisswyn nodded, quietly pleased to know there was a need for her weaving skills in Edoras, but completely confused by the other woman's demeanor.
"Ealdred says you and your people have helped make enough headway with the gardens that you can spend the afternoon here, if you like."
"Oh, I would like that, very much," Lisswyn answered, reaching out to touch the loom, then smiling at Betta. "I just need to check on my sister. She was with Hilde this morning, but I don't want them wondering where I am."
Due to her age, Hilde found it difficult to bend and kneel in the garden, and had, with Liffild, helped by watching the younger children from the caves. The two of them were also continuing to hem and make other modifications to the clothes the women had been given.
Betta nodded. "I'll leave you to it, then. Ealdred will let you know how often you need to be in the gardens, and when we actually begin the harvest, that might be more, but until then, feel free to work here whenever you're not needed elsewhere."
She left, and Lisswyn wandered around the room, pleased with what she saw. There was a variety of different weights of wool, both already spun and awaiting weaving, and in the raw state awaiting spinning, along with similar amounts of cotton and a few bolts of Gondorian silk. The latter didn't look as if it had been there long. Had it been sent from Gondor to make Lady Eowyn's wedding gown? She'd have to ask. In the meantime, she settled with some of the spun wool in front of the loom, glad to have something to occupy her mind. She didn't want to think.
It was easy to lose track of time in the windowless room, and it was only when she heard steps approaching that she realized the afternoon had probably passed, and Hilde was coming to tell her the evening meal was being served. Perhaps she would tell the other woman to go on without her. It was easier to face an empty stomach than another meal watching the women leave when she arrived.
But it wasn't Hilde who came through the door. It was the King's sister, and she paused in front of Lisswyn, her hands on her hips. "This isn't the answer, you know."
"To what?" Lisswyn looked around, baffled.
"Hiding in here. Come." She motioned to the door.
It was a command, but one Lisswyn badly wanted to ignore. She stared at the loom for a long moment, tried to find a sufficient excuse to refuse. Tried to figure out what it meant that Eowyn apparently knew what was going on.
"If you hide, they'll assume it's because you've done something you're ashamed of." Eowyn's voice was quiet.
"I've done nothing!"
"Then come to the evening meal with me."
Lisswyn stared at her, confused. There was something in the other woman's eyes, something Lisswyn didn't understand. As if she was pleading.
Lisswyn nodded, reluctantly pushed away from the loom. She'd rather face orcs.
As they headed out, Eowyn turned to her. "I'm sorry I have not been much in the hall. I was needed elsewhere. Harvest, winter preparations, an epidemic of the childhood sickness." She gave Lisswyn a wry look. "I'm sure some of those children had it last year; I can't imagine why they're getting it again."
Lisswyn nodded, even more puzzled. Why was the King's sister apologizing to her for being busy?
It was immediately clear that meals in the hall were a different matter when Eowyn was with her. No one dared be rude to the King's sister. It was almost humorous, watching them try to interact with Eowyn while ignoring Lisswyn.
If you hide, they will assume it's because you've done something you're ashamed of. Eowyn had had a point. Lisswyn's annoyance crept back. She'd done nothing wrong. She would not be cowed. At least not by the women of Edoras. She determinedly began asking questions and responding to comments. It was easier due to Eowyn, who was apparently equally determined to have Lisswyn be part of the conversation.
The King was not in the hall, and Lisswyn wondered where he was. But after his earlier snub, it was probably just as well. She wasn't up to another encounter with him.
The conversation was mostly about the childhood sickness currently making the rounds among the children of Edoras. Marked by a fever, lethargy, and upset stomachs, the illness was rarely fatal, normally running its course in a few days. But both children and parents were miserable until it was over, and for families with several children sick at the same time, it could be overwhelming.
As they were finishing their meal, Lisswyn turned to Eowyn, noticing for the first time that the other woman looked exhausted. "Is there anything I can do?"
Eowyn stared at her thoughtfully. "Eomer mentioned you have some training as a healer?"
Lisswyn grimaced. "Not exactly. My mother was a healer, and I learned a certain amount from her before she died – though not nearly enough."
Eowyn nodded. "Still…" She stood. "Come with me." She led Lisswyn out of Meduseld to one of the larger cots near the hall. As they stepped through the door, it was immediately apparent it was dedicated to the healing arts. A fireplace took up most of one wall of the large main room, and two tables were full of herbs in various stages of drying and cutting. Shelves were filled with pots and small bags, and the room smelled, not unpleasantly, of healing herbs. Doors led off the main room to other chambers.
A man and a woman were at the table, and they looked up when Eowyn led Lisswyn inside.
The man scowled. "We can not work any faster than this. It takes time to prepare the herbs."
A little surprised at the tone he was taking with Eowyn, Lisswyn glanced over at the king's sister.
Eowyn merely shook her head. "I've brought you someone who can help with that, I think."
His scowl deepened, but the woman looked intrigued. "You're Lisswyn."
Before she could reply, the man's head jerked up and he stared at her. "The woman who cared for the King?"
Lisswyn nodded rather cautiously. "I'm not a healer," she said apologetically. "But I did learn some things from my mother, who was."
"You know how to prepare dried feverweed?"
When she nodded, he pointed to a bench across from him. "Sit."
She glanced at Eowyn, then did as the man commanded.
"Lisswyn," Eowyn said, humor apparent in her voice, "this polite man is Redwald, the most senior of our healers. What he lacks in civility, he makes up for with skill. And this," she motioned to the woman, "is his wife, Mylla, one of our midwives."
"You examined Liffild," Lisswyn smiled at her, even as she reached for a knife and one of the plants.
"I did. She's a brave woman."
Pleased by the comment, Lisswyn turned to the task at hand, grateful that she was detecting none of the animosity she'd experienced from the other women. And once Eowyn had left, it became clear that Mylla's acceptance of her was genuine, not due to the presence of the king's sister.
As she prepared the medicinal plant – no doubt needed in large amounts for the sick children – she listened to Redwald and Mylla, and realized that the healer's gruff exterior was all show. He plainly cared deeply for his patients. He showed her how to mix the cut plant with some other herbs to make a potion weak enough to be safe for children.
His distress at being caught with an insufficient amount of prepared feverweed was obvious. "It's been years since this many children were sick at once, and most of our feverweed was mixed at adult strength to care for battle wounds."
The plant was effective in treating fevers, but worked best when mixed with other herbs as well. She'd had none while treating the king and was relieved that there seemed to be more than enough in Edoras.
Evening was far gone when Redwald stood and stretched. "That's enough for tonight. There's no point working until we go blind. We'll get some of this to Ceolwyn, and then begin again in the morning." He looked at Lisswyn. "You know more than you let on." A smile played around the corner of his mouth. "I've heard you're a weaver, but perhaps we'll make a healer of you instead."
Lisswyn smiled at him. "I will go wherever I'm needed." She picked up a small bag of prepared feverweed. "You mentioned Ceolwyn. Her children are ill?"
Mylla nodded. "The two youngest have been quite ill. The little girl had it last year."
"Perhaps I could take the feverweed to her? I'd like to see her." Ceolwyn hadn't been among the women who had been rude to her – the other woman hadn't been in the hall at all since the night of the celebration.
Redwald nodded thoughtfully. "She'll probably appreciate a bit of company." He walked over to the door, and pointed down the hill. "She's in the fourth cottage down, just before the road curves."
Lisswyn acknowledged his directions and then slipped out into the evening. Although he could be quite brusque, she liked the healer and his wife, and it had been good to spend several hours with people who seemed to like her, as well.
It was only when she arrived at the cottage he'd pointed to that nerves came to life. Ceolwyn probably hadn't been in the hall due to her children being ill, but that didn't mean she wouldn't demonstrate the same rudeness the other women had. She sincerely hoped not. She'd very much liked the other woman. Telling herself that bringing medicine might help, regardless, she firmly knocked.
There was no answer, and puzzled, she knocked again. After another long moment, the door slowly opened, and looking down, she saw Ceolwyn's daughter, an expression of anxiety on her face.
Before she could ask for Ceolwyn, the little girl said, "Mama's sick."
"I see," Lisswyn responded. "Maybe I can help. May I come in?"
Obviously relieved, the girl opened the door, and Lisswyn stepped through. The cottage was typical in design, with one large main room and one room off to the side. There was a fireplace along one wall, but the fire appeared to have gone out. The table in front of it had bread and cheese sitting on it – both evidently having been sliced by childish hands that weren't used to handling knives. At the other end of the room, near the lone door, were two small beds. The toddler was asleep in one of them, a rather restless sleep by the look of it.
"Where is your mother?"
The little girl pointed toward the closed door, and Lisswyn went over to it and knocked softly. When there was no answer, she eased it open, looked in. Ceolwyn was also sleeping restlessly, apparently too deeply to hear the baby fussing in a crib by the bed. Stepping closer, Lisswyn reached down, gently touched Ceolwyn's face, unsurprised to find it hot.
It was unusual, but not unheard of, for adults to get the childhood sickness. When it did occur in adults, it tended to be in those who'd had the disease lightly as children. Unfortunately, the older you were, the more dangerous it could be.
To her relief, Ceolwyn shifted restlessly and opened her eyes when Lisswyn touched her. Her eyes filling with confusion when she saw Lisswyn, she looked around, noted her daughter, then seemed to hear the infant. She struggled to sit up, but Lisswyn pushed her gently back down.
"Everything is fine. How long have you been ill?"
"This morning." The words were weak and slurred, and Lisswyn frowned, then watched as Ceolwyn seemed to struggle to get the next word out. "Denulf?"
"My brother." The little girl spoke, then nodded in the direction of the crib.
Lisswyn went over, picked the child up. He had a slight fever, perhaps, but seemed mostly cranky. "How long has he been ill?"
"Since yesterday," Ceolwyn whispered.
Understanding that the woman wanted to check her child herself, Lisswyn settled on the bed, laid the baby next to his mother.
Ceolwyn stroked his cheek. "He's not so warm."
"No. None of them appear to be as ill as you are."
Ceolwyn weakly nodded her head. "I should nurse him," she murmured.
She was right, and it made more sense to do it now than later, Lisswyn decided. She shifted Ceolwyn into a more comfortable position, the helped her settle the baby at her breast.
"Will you be alright? At Ceolwyn's weary nod, Lisswyn stood. "I'm going to check your other son, then go see the healers about some healing herbs for you – some that haven't been reduced down for children. But I'll be back before you're finished nursing." Ceolwyn nodded again, and Lisswyn returned to the main room.
The toddler was still sleeping restlessly as well, and was hotter to the touch than was his younger brother. Lisswyn mixed some of the herb into a cup of water, then sat next to the little boy, dribbling a tiny amount into his mouth. He coughed and sat up, and obediently took a drink when she held it to his lips before pushing it away, grimacing. Given the foul taste of the preparation, she was surprised he'd taken any of it. Normally, it had to be mixed with honey before children would swallow it.
In another move indicating how poorly he felt, he pulled away, rolled over and seemed to be trying to return to sleep. Lisswyn stood, deciding it was a good thing. And the next time he awoke, she'd get more of the herb in him.
In the meantime, she looked over at the silent girl who stood watching her, a look of fear in her eyes.
"How are you?"
"I had the sickness last year."
Ah. Poor thing must have been nearly frantic at having all of them sick but her. "Where is your father?"
At that, her chin came up, a look of pride settling on her face. "He's on a mission for the King. Mama says that Eomer-king trusts papa and he would not let him down."
"I'm sure he won't." Lisswyn smiled at her, then stood, and watched fear come back onto the little girl's eyes.
"And what is your name?"
"Jocosa."
"Jocosa, you've done a fine job of taking care of your mother and brothers. I'm going to leave you alone with them again, just for a little while, while I return to the healers and see about some stronger medicine for your mother."
"Is she going to die?" She asked the question bluntly, and Lisswyn ached at the fear behind the question.
"No," she answered firmly. "As I said, I'll go get some stronger medicine for her, and perhaps by tomorrow, she'll be feeling much more the thing." She reached out, touched Jocosa's cheek. "I'll be right back, and I won't leave again until your mother is up and around."
Obviously relieved, Jocosa managed a smile.
Returning to the healers' cot, she quickly told them of Ceolwyn's condition. Redwald scowled – a look Lisswyn now understood to indicate worry – and began measuring adult dosages of the dried feverweed. Mylla's distress was more obvious. "I knew I should have checked on them this afternoon. But she still had some of the herb, and others didn't."
"Can't be everywhere at once," Redwald said briskly. He turned to Lisswyn. "Mylla will take the herb to Ceolwyn and stay with them. You can return to the hall."
Taken aback by his shortness, she stared at him, then glanced at Mylla before looking back at Redwald. "If you don't mind, I'd like to take the herb to them. I promised Jocosa I'd return, and I hate to break my word. I know how to administer the herb, and wouldn't mind staying with them tonight, if someone could get word to Hilde in the hall so she doesn't fret."
Redwald gave her a shrewd look. "How are the children?"
"Jocosa seems fine. She remembers having it last year. The boys are both ill, the younger one a little warmer than the toddler, but neither of them seem as sick as their mother."
He gave his wife a brief look, and appeared to consider the situation for a moment, then nodded. "We're both quite tired, and tomorrow is likely to be much the same as today was. If you don't mind staying with them tonight, that would allow us to be more clear-headed for whatever comes next. We'll make sure you have a chance to sleep then." Lisswyn nodded, and he added, "If you become more concerned about Ceolwyn or the children, send Jocosa to fetch us."
Lisswyn nodded, and accepted the small bag of the herb he handed her before turning to slip back out into the evening.
The door to Ceolwyn's cottage opened before she even reached it, Jocosa expression once more anxious. Lisswyn smiled at her, and showed her the bag of dried herb. "I'll make some of this up for your mother right away, and shortly I think she'll begin to feel much better."
She did so, once more settling on the bed next to Ceolwyn. The woman had finished nursing and seemed only about half conscious, though her arm was still curled protectively around her son. Lisswyn took the little boy, held him while calling Ceolwyn's name.
"Lisswyn. I thought you'd gone," she whispered.
Lisswyn handed her the cup of potion. "Just to get some stronger feverweed for you. You must drink all of this."
"The children?"
"They'll be fine. I'm going to give them both suitable doses of the weakened herb, and will watch over them tonight. Hopefully, you'll sleep once you've had some of the herb, and will be feeling better when you awake."
Weak but determined, Ceolwyn sipped at the potion, and managed a half smile. "You put honey in it."
"It doesn't taste any better for us than it does the children."
Finishing the drink, she handed the cup back to Lisswyn before settling back onto the bed. "I had the fever has a child. I shouldn't be getting it again."
Her tone was a bit petulant, and Lisswyn smiled. "I can almost guarantee you'll never have to worry about having it again."
"Lisswyn…thank you."
There were tears in the woman's eyes, and Lisswyn shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad to help. I'm going to go start a fire and get some of the herb into the boys, and things will be better in the morning. But you must sleep."
Ceolwyn nodded as her eyes slowly closed.
The baby was fussing, so Lisswyn took him out to the main room with her. Jocosa, without being asked, dragged his crib out as well, and they set about getting another dose of the medicine into the boys. It wasn't easy, and Lisswyn relied heavily on the little girl, particularly when it came to the toddler. Unlike earlier, Hengest, as she'd learned his name was, would now only let Jocosa near him.
Fair enough, Lisswyn thought. When you were small, and felt miserable, having a stranger caring for you instead of your mother only added to the misery. So she carefully supervised Jocosa giving him the medicine and sitting with him until he fell back asleep.
Then she managed to get the little girl into bed, before finally settling with the fussing infant in a rocking chair near the fire.
The night passed slowly, but she succeeding in getting more medicine into all of her patients before dawn came and was pleased to tell Mylla that all three of them were resting easier by the time the healer arrived to check on them.
"The children seem to be nearly recovered, though I imagine they'll both sleep a lot today," she said. "But both of their fevers are completely gone, and Ceolwyn's seems much reduced."
Mylla checked them all, confirmed Lisswyn's assessment, then left again, promising to return as soon as she could to relieve her.
Content that everyone – including Jocosa, who'd been exhausted – was still sleeping, Lisswyn curled up in the rocking chair and took a nap herself.
It was late afternoon before Mylla was able to return, full of apologies. "I'm so sorry it's taken such a long time to get back to you. I think we've finally passed the worst of it, as there have been no new cases reported. But many of the children have really been quite sick, and their parents frantic."
Lisswyn nodded. "I'm not surprised. And I'm fine. I've actually been able to sleep quite a bit in the chair." Lady Eowyn had come that afternoon to check on them as well, asking if Lisswyn needed anything, and encouraging her to get what rest she could. It had surprised her to realize that that was how the King's sister had spent most of the last few days – going from one home to the next, encouraging parents and notifying the healers of any new illnesses.
"How's Ceolwyn?" Mylla asked as they moved through the cottage.
"Much improved, I'd say. Her fever is gone, and she's sleeping well. She awoke earlier and took some broth, and she's still been able to nurse Denulf."
"Good."
Ceolwyn was awake, and sitting up, slowly shifting to the side of the bed in preparation for standing.
Mylla looked at her, raised an eyebrow, and Ceolwyn grimaced. "As Lisswyn says, I'm much improved. Still a little weak, but I'd like to get up. I want to check on my sons." There was a plaintive note in her voice impossible to ignore, so Lisswyn and Mylla helped her into the other room and into the rocking chair. Hengest ran to her, and Lisswyn lifted the little boy into his mother's lap, where he settled against her with a sigh. Ceolwyn looked so content that Lisswyn suspected caring for the children, being with them and reassuring herself that they were fine, would be an important component of the woman's continued recovery.
She spent the rest of the evening with them, but by the time night fully fell, she was convinced they no longer needed her. She assisted Ceolwyn in getting them into bed, then told Jocosa that if anything happened – if her mother appeared to have a relapse – to run to the healers' cot for help.
Promising to return the following day to see if they needed anything, she slipped out of the cottage and started back up the hill to the hall, eager to see Brynwyn, and then head to her own bed.
By coincidence – Lisswyn refused to believe the woman really had nothing better to do than lurk in dark corners waiting to accost her – the first person she saw when she entered Meduseld was Alfild.
She stepped directly in front of Lisswyn, impeding her progress, and smirked, a malicious look in her eyes. "Decided to return to the hall, have you? It's a pity you couldn't make it back this morning in time to work in the fields, but I guess the riders didn't mind their entertainment extending to daylight hours."
Lisswyn simply stared at her, too tired even to take true insult from the ludicrous accusation. "You're in sad shape, Alfild, if you have nothing more useful to do with your time than watch my comings and goings. If you're truly curious as to where I was, though, I suggest you ask Lady Eowyn, as I will not dignify your comment with any further response." With that, she walked around the woman and went to get some sleep.
A/N: This chapter turned out to be much longer than I'd anticipated, and I've wound up splitting it into two sections. The other part is done as well, meaning that the next chapter will be along quickly, probably within a day or two.As always, thanks for your reviews. :)