Temple of the Winds

Yonick told a stunned Mark of Kip's death. Richard told the mother to send for Drefan if any of the family fell ill. Richard left the home feeling much better. The second boy, Sidney, had been dead since morning.

By the time they found the third boy lying in blankets at the rear of a one-room house, Richard's hopes had faded.

Bert was gravely ill, but at least his extremities weren't black, as Kip's had been. His mother told them that he had a headache, and had been throwing up. While Drefan saw to the boy, Nadine gave the woman herbs.

"Sprinkle these on the fire," Nadine told Bert's mother. "It's mugwort, fennel, and hussuck. They'll smoke and help drive away the sickness. Bring hot coals to your boy, put a pinch of the herbs on the coals, and fan the smoke at your son to insure that he breathes enough of it. It will help drive the sickness from him."

"Do you think that will really help?" Richard whispered when Nadine returned to his side, near the boy. "Drefan said he doesn't know if it will."

"I was taught that it was said to help serious sickness, like the plague," she said in a low voice, "but I've never seen anyone with the plague before, so I can't say for sure. Richard, it's all I know to do. I have to try."

Even though he was dead tired, and had a headache, Richard had no trouble sensing the helplessness in her voice. She wanted to help. As Drefan had said, maybe it would do some good.

Richard watched as Drefan pulled a knife from his belt. He gestured for Cara and Raina, who had both caught up with them after taking care of Richard's instructions, to hold down the sick boy. Raina gripped Bert's chin with one hand, and held his forehead with the other. Cara pressed his shoulders into the blankets.

With a steady hand, Drefan lanced the swelling at the side of the boy's throat. Bert's screams seared Richard's nerves. He could almost feel the knife slicing his own throat. The mother wrung her hands as she stood off a ways, watching with unblinking eyes.

Richard remembered Drefan saying that if the person lived, they would complain the rest of their life about the torture of the treatment. Bert would have cause. "What did you give Kip's mother?" Kahlan asked Nadine.

"I gave her some herbs to smoke the house, the same as I gave this woman," Nadine said. "And I made her a pouch of hop cone, lavender, yarrow, and lemon balm leaves to put in her pillow so that she might sleep. Even so, I don't know that she will be able to sleep, after.. " Her eyes turned away. "I know that I wouldn't be able to," she whispered, almost to herself.

"Do you have any herbs that you think might prevent the plague?" Richard asked. "Things that would keep people from catching it?"

Nadine watched Drefan mopping blood and pus from the boy's throat. "I'm sorry, Richard, but I don't know enough about it. Drefan might be right; he seems to know a lot. There may be no cure, or preventative."

Richard went to the boy and squatted down beside Drefan, watching his brother work. "Why are you doing that?"

Drefan glanced over as he folded the rag to a clean place. "As I said before, sometimes, if the sickness can be brought to a head and drained, they will recover. I have to try."

Drefan gestured to the two Mord-Sith. They gripped the boy again. Richard winced as he watched Drefan slide the sharp knife deeper into the swelling, bringing forth more blood and yellowish-white fluid. Mercifully, Bert passed out.

Richard wiped sweat from his own brow. He felt helpless. He had his sword to defend against attack, but it could do no good against this. He wished it was something he could fight.

Behind him, Nadine spoke to Kahlan in a soft voice, but loud enough for Richard to hear.

"Kahlan, I sorry about what I said before. I've devoted my life to helping sick people. It makes me so upset to see people suffer. That's what I was angry about. Not you. I was frustrated at Yonick's grief, and I lashed out at you. It wasn't your fault. Nothing could have been done. I'm sorry."

Richard didn't turn. Kahlan said nothing, but she might have offered Nadine a smile to accept the apology. Somehow, Richard doubted it.

He knew Kahlan, and he knew that she expected as much from others as she expected from herself. Forgiveness was not forthcoming simply because someone asked for it. The transgression was weighed into the equation, and there were transgressions that outweighed absolution.

The apology hadn't been for Kahlan, anyway; it had been for Richard's benefit. Like a child who had been upbraided, Nadine was on her best behavior, trying to impress him with how good she could be.