her the walk.
'You can barely carry yourself yet, man,' said Idarolan.
Robinton had to admit that he was shaky on his feet. He was only too glad to follow Clostan, who met them at the Hold door and swooped Kasia up in his arms to carry her down to the infirmary.
By then the Lord and Lady Holder had learned of their safe return and hurried to the infirmary too. Juvana hovered anxiously over her sister and Melongel frowned, having clearly been very worried.
'You've both had quite an ordeal,' Clostan said with a deep sigh.
Kasia coughed politely into her hand, and the healer scowled. 'I'll fix a soothing draught to ease that right smart. But neither of you is to do anything for the next three days. I'll go over you again then.'
Juvana insisted they stay in one of the low-level guest apartments.
Their own level was cold, being too far from the source of heat with which the Ancients had warmed the Hold, and they needed the warmth of hearth-heated rooms. Indeed, Robinton couldn't seem to heat the cold out of his bones and was drawn to
the fire like a forest insect. Following Clostan's orders they rested in bed a full day, Juvana keeping hot water- bottles in a row under the furs, causing Robinton to complain that his feet were fine – it was the rest of him that wasn't warm.
Mostly Kasia slept, not even rousing when she coughed. Rob dosed fitfully, waking briefly every time she coughed. He woke once to find himself beating out the cadence of 'Got in, get out ...' And another time from a nightmare where he couldn't hear her or see her in the mist which blanketed him. He knew she was calling and he kept trying to answer, but his jaws were frozen stuck.
Captain Gostol came in, apologetic that he had left a search almost too long.
'Kasia's knowledgeable about the sea and little ships. And you two finally having a chance to be alone for the first time ... That storm only reached us late the other night – which is when we began to get concerned with you being overdue back in the harbour.' He kept turning his sea cap in his hands, working round and round on the brim.
'I did what Kasia told me,' Robinton murmured, refusing to take much credit. 'You should have seen her handling the sloop in that storm, though. You' d' ve been proud of her. As I am.' He patted her leg under the furs, and she smiled wanly up at him.
'You got us home,' she said, just the hint of a sparkle back in her eyes.
Then she coughed, a funny dry hack that Clostan's potion didn't seem to ease.
If the healer was concerned about the way the cough hung on, he made no mention of it to Robinton. And soon they were well enough to go back to their own quarters. Juvana had put braziers in both rooms, to take the chill off. The black rock burned hotly, but with a smell and an acrid smoke which sometimes irritated Kasia's cough. Rob suggested returning to the warmer, lower level, but she said she wanted to be in the place they had fixed for themselves, with all their own things. And anyway, she added, they would both be spending much of their time in the warmer schoolrooms when they resumed their duties the following seven-day.
Clostan became very busy as the unnaturally cold weather brought him many coughs and colds, running noses and fevers. He continued to check up on Kasia, but she kept insisting that she felt fine.
'Except for the cough,' Robinton added, chiding her for not mentioning it.
'It's only now and then, Rob,' she said. Her listlessness still worried him. She seemed so tired by evening that she would fall asleep in his arms. He didn't mind; she felt so good against him, and he felt so protective of his lovely green-eyed spouse.
The cold was further compounded by three blizzards, following one after the other. No one moved about the Hold or attempted to take the ships out for fish. Lord Melongel was a good provider and, while the weather remained so bitter, opened his stores to those who were short of food. It was essential to keep everyone healthy in this awful weather.
A feverish cough developed and spread from the schoolroom to the old aunties and uncles. Clostan asked for assistance in his nursing duties and both Robinton and Kasia volunteered, since many of the patients were their students.
Then, one night, Robinton was awakened by Kasia's thrashing.
Moaning and mumbling, throwing her arms and legs about, she was burning up with fever. Robinton charged down to the infirmary, where the assistant healer on night duty gave him the powdered herb which would reduce the fever, and the salve to rub on her throat, chest and back. Robinton detoured to the kitchen and got himself klah and a pitcher of the flavoured water that was being used for invalids.
Kasia had managed to throw off the furs and was lying uncovered in the cold room. He quickly covered her and then applied the salve, its pungent smell seeping into his nose and lungs. Then he roused her to take a few sips of the herb drink. He dozed now and then, between forcing her to drink. By morning she was delirious, and he was becoming more and more worried. The herb had seemed effective with everyone else he nursed, but her coughing fits were getting harder and longer.
He almost cried out with relief when Clostan, red-eyed and weary, came in. Kasia chose that moment to indulge in one of her coughing spasms, and Clostan came swiftly to the bedside.
'That doesn't sound good,' he said, feeling her forehead and cheeks. 'You've the salve on? Use more, and repeat it every three hours. Here, let's give her my special remedy.'
He mixed the draught himself and made her drink it.
'She obeys you more than she does me,' Robinton remarked peevishly.
'You're her spouse,' Clostan said with a weary grin. 'Mind you, most of your patients have recovered, so I'm sure she will.'
There was, however, a note in Clostan's voice that caught Robinton's ear.
'You are?'
'Of course I am. She's young and ... well, she's far less vulnerable than those down the hall.' His face fell into sad lines.
'More deaths?' Robinton asked, and Clostan nodded.
'The very old have no stamina. And we've got their quarters as warm as an oven.'
He left then, but Juvana arrived shortly afterwards and together they moved Kasia down to a guest room, where a fire roared on the hearth.
Together Juvana and Robinton nursed Kasia. Clostan came in several times that day, and yet her fever persisted. To Robinton, it seemed that she was hotter every time he felt her forehead. He knew this wasn't the course the illness usually took and remembered what Clostan had said about the elderlies' lack of stamina.
Did Kasia have enough, having so recently recovered from the ordeal of the storm? He didn't even dare ask Juvana her opinion; her presence verified his fears.
He never left the bedside, except for essential trips. Juvana ordered a pallet for herself to sleep on. Melongel looked in; so did Minnarden, offering to cover for Robinton so that he could get some sleep.
Robinton refused. He had promised to care for Kasia, and he would. She had to get well. She had to.
But she did not. Just before dawn on the fifth day of her burning fever and hacking cough, when Melongel and Clostan had joined the vigil, she opened her eyes, smiled at Robinton leaning over her and, with a sigh, closed them. And was still.
'No, no. No. No. Kasia. You can't leave me alone.'
He was shaking her, trying to rouse her, when he felt Juvana's hands pulling him away. He clutched Kasia to him, stroking her hair, her cheeks, trying to coax life back into her body.
It took Melongel and Clostan to pull him away from her, while Juvana arranged her on the bed. And Clostan forced a potion down his throat.
'We did all we could, Rob, all we could. It's just sometimes not enough.' And Robinton heard the pain of the healer as plainly as he felt his own.
Captain Gostol sailed the Northern Maid with just Vesna and two others to man her – his crew was also decimated by the fever.
It was Merelan who sang the final farewell, for Robinton couldn't speak. But he did play the harp he had so lovingly made his spouse. And when Merelan held the last note until it died away – as his hope had – he flung the harp to join the body of his beloved as it slipped into the sea. The harp gave one last dissonant chord as the wind of its descent strummed the strings. Then all was silent.
