But the real hero, she admitted to herself, was Bruna. It occurred to her that the woman had not ordered her to do anything for several minutes. She looked over, and saw Bruna collapsed on the ground, gasping.
âHelp! Help!â Leesha cried. âBrunaâs sick!â New strength came to her, and she flew to the woman, lifting her up into a sitting position. Hag Bruna was shockingly light, and Leesha could feel little more than bone beneath her thick shawls and wool skirts.
Bruna was twitching, and a thin trail of spit ran from her mouth, caught in the endless grooves of her wrinkled skin. Her eyes, dark behind a milky film, stared wildly at her hands, which would not stop shaking.
Leesha looked around frantically, but there was no one nearby to help. Still holding Bruna upright, she grabbed at one of the womanâs spasming hands, rubbing the cramped muscles. âOh, Bruna!â she pleaded. âWhat do I do? Please! I donât know how to help you! You must tell me what to do!â Helplessness cut at Leesha, and she began to cry.
Brunaâs hand jerked from her grasp, and Leesha cried out, fearing a fresh set of spasms. But her ministrations had given the old Herb Gatherer the control to reach into her shawl, pulling free a pouch that she thrust Leeshaâs way. A series of coughs wracked her frail body, and she was torn from Leeshaâs arms and hit the ground, flopping like a fish with each cough. Leesha was left holding the pouch in horror.
She looked down at the cloth bag, squeezing experimentally and feeling the crunch of herbs inside. She sniffed it, catching a scent like potpourri.
She thanked the Creator. If it had all been one herb, she would have never been able to guess the dose, but she had made enough tinctures and teas for Bruna that day to understand what she had been given.
She rushed to the kettle steaming on the tripod and placed a thin cloth over a cup, layering it thick with herbs from the pouch. She poured boiling water over the herbs slowly, leaching their strength, then deftly tied the herbs up in the cloth and tossed it into the water.
She ran back to Bruna, blowing on the liquid. It would burn, but there was no time to let it cool. She lifted Bruna in one arm, pressing the cup to her spit-flecked lips.
The Herb Gatherer thrashed, spilling some of the cure, but Leesha forced her to drink, the yellow liquid running out of the sides of her mouth. She kept twitching and coughing, but the symptoms began to subside. As her heaves eased, Leesha sobbed in relief.
âLeesha!â she heard a call. She looked up from Bruna, and saw her mother racing towards her, ahead of a group of townsfolk.
âWhat have you done, you worthless girl?â Elona demanded. She reached Leesha before the others could draw close and hissed, âBad enough I have a useless daughter and not a son to fight the fire, but now youâve gone and killed the town crone?â She drew back her hand to smack at her daughter, but Bruna reached up and caught Elonaâs wrist in her skeletal grip.
âThe crone lives because of her, you idiot!â Bruna croaked. Elona turned bone-white and drew back as if Bruna had become a coreling. The sight gave Leesha a rush of pleasure.
By then, the rest of the villagers had gathered around them, asking what had happened.
âMy daughter saved Brunaâs life!â Elona shouted, before Leesha or Bruna could speak.
Tender Michel held his warded Canon aloft so all could see the holy book as the remains of the dead were thrown on the ruin of the last burning house. The villagers stood with hats in hand, heads bowed. Jona threw incense on the blaze, flavouring the acrid stench permeating the air.
âUntil the Deliverer comes to lift the Plague of demonkind, remember well that it was the sins of man that brought it down!â Michel shouted. âThe adulterers and the fornicators! The liars and thieves and usurers!â
âThe ones that clench their rears too tight,â Elona murmured. Someone snickered.
âThose leaving this world will be judged,â Michel went on, âand those who served the Creatorâs will shall join with him in Heaven, while those who have broken his trust, sullied by sins of indulgence or flesh, will burn in the Core for eternity!â He closed the book, and the assembled villagers bowed in silence.
âBut while mourning is good and proper,â Michel said, âwe should not forget those of us the Creator has chosen to live. Let us break casks and drink to the dead. Let us tell the tales of them we love most, and laugh, for life is precious, and not to be wasted. We can save our tears for when we sit behind our wards tonight.â
âThatâs our Tender,â Elona muttered. âAny excuse to break open a cask.â
âNow, dear,â Erny said, patting her hand, âhe means well.â
âThe coward defends the drunk, of course,â Elona said, pulling her hand away. âSteave rushes into burning houses, and my husband cringes with the women.â
âI was in the bucket line!â Erny protested. He and Steave had been rivals for Elona, and it was said that his winning of Elona was more to do with his purse than her heart.
âLike a woman,â Elona agreed, eyeing the muscular Steave across the crowd.
It was always like this. Leesha wished she could shut her ears to them. She wished the corelings had taken her mother, instead of seven good people. She wished her father would stand up to her for once; for himself, if not his daughter. She wished she would flower soon, so she could go with Gared and leave them both behind.
Those too old or young to fight the flames had prepared a great meal for the village, and they laid it out as the others sat, too exhausted to move, and stared at the smouldering ashes.
But the fires were out, the wounded bandaged and healing, and there were hours before sunset. The Tenderâs words took the guilt from those relieved to be alive, and Smittâs strong Hollow ale did the rest. It was said that Smittâs ale could cure any woe, and there was much to cure. Soon the long tables rang with laughter at stories of those who had passed from the world.
Gared sat a few tables away with his friends Ren and Flinn, their wives, and his other friend Evin. The other boys, all woodcutters, were older than Gared by a few years, but Gared was bigger than all save Ren, and it seemed he would surpass even him before his growing was done. Of the group, Evin alone was unpromised, and many girls eyed him, despite his short temper.
The older boys teased Gared relentlessly, especially about Leesha. She wasnât happy to be forced to sit with her parents, but sitting with Gared while Ren and Flinn made lewd suggestions and Evin picked fights was often worse.
After they had eaten their share, Tender Michel and Child Jona rose from the table, carrying a large platter of food to the Holy House, where Darsy looked after Bruna and the wounded. Leesha excused herself to help them. Gared spotted the move and rose to join her, but no sooner had she stood than she was swept off by Brianne, Saira, and Mairy, her closest friends.
âIs it true what happened?â Saira asked, pulling her left arm.
âEveryoneâs saying you knocked Darsy down and saved Hag Bruna!â Mairy said, pulling her right. Leesha looked back helplessly at Gared, and allowed herself to be led away.
âThe grizzly bear can wait his turn,â Brianne told her.
âYull come second to them girls even after yur married, Gared!â Ren cried, causing his friends to roar with laughter and pound the table. The girls ignored them, spreading their skirts and sitting on the grass, away from the increasing noise, as their elders drained cask after cask.
âGaredâs gonna be hearing that one awhile,â Brianne laughed. âRen bet five klats he wonât get to kiss you before dusk, much less a good grope.â At sixteen, she was already two years a widow, but had no shortage of suitors. She said it was because she knew a wifeâs tricks. She lived with her father and two older brothers, woodcutters, and was mother to them all.
âUnlike some people, I donât invite every passing boy to grope me,â Leesha said, bringing a mock look of indignation from Brianne.
âIâd let Gared grope if I was promised to him,â Saira said. She was fifteen, with cropped brown hair and freckles on her chipmunk cheeks. She had been promised to a boy last year, but the corelings had taken him and her father in a single night.
âI wish I was promised,â Mairy complained. She was gaunt at fourteen years, with a hollow face and a prominent nose. She was full flowered, but despite the efforts of her parents, not yet promised. Elona called her scarecrow. âNo man will want to put a child between those bony hips,â she had sneered once, âlest the scarecrow crack in two when the babe breaks.â
âIt will happen soon enough,â Leesha told her. She was the youngest of the group at thirteen, but the others seemed to centre on her. Elona said it was because she was prettier and better moneyed, but Leesha could never believe her friends so petty.
âDid you really beat Darsy with a stick?â Mairy asked.
âIt didnât happen like that,â Leesha said. âDarsy made some mistake, and Bruna started hitting her with her stick. Darsy tried to back away, and walked right into me. We both fell down, and Bruna kept hitting her until she ran off.â
âIf sheâd hit me with a stick, Iâda hit her right back,â Brianne said. âDa says Brunaâs a witch, and she slaps stomachs with demons in her hut at night.â
âThatâs disgusting nonsense!â Leesha snapped.
âThen whyâs she live so far from town?â Saira demanded. âAnd how is it sheâs still alive when her grandchildren are dead of old age?â
âBecause sheâs an Herb Gatherer,â Leesha said, âand you donât find herbs growing in the centre of town. I helped her today, and it was amazing. I thought half the people brought to her were too hurt to live, but she saved every one.â
âDid you see her cast spells on them?â Mairy asked excitedly.
âSheâs not a witch!â Leesha said. âShe did it all with herbs and knives and thread.â
âShe cut people?â Mairy said in disgust.
âWitch,â Brianne said. Saira nodded.