'But her cousin tells me she has nursed my brother with utter devotion,' Elf protested.
'Hah!' Ida exclaimed. 'If he is indeed her cousin. He came to Ashlin a year ago. Shortly before that your brother fell ill for the first time, although he had been the picture of health until then.'
Elf felt a shiver race down her spine, but she shook off the feeling, saying, 'I am certain that is just coincidence, Ida. We must not think ill of Isleen because Dickon is ill. I can only judge her on my own experience with her, and to date it has been a good one. She has welcomed me warmly and given me leave to take this little shed for an herbarium so I may help Dickon.'
'Of course she is pleasant to you,' Ida said. 'You are her brother’s only living relative, and Ashlin will be yours if he dies.'
'I know that,' Elf replied, 'but my brother is not going to die, Ida. I have learned a great deal from Sister Winifred, and she says I am the best student she has ever taught. I am told I shall be her assistant when I take my final vows, and one day, God willing, I shall serve the convent as its infirmarian. That is the life God has planned for me, and it is the life I want. Now, let us find some brooms, old friend, and clean this little shed so it is a suitable place for me to set up my herbarium and make my medicines.'
'You are too innocent, and your heart is far too good,' Ida said, then rushed to obey her young mistress.
Several young strong serfs came, and removed the clutter of many years from the shed. A fire was built nearby to heat the water that would be necessary to clean the shed properly, while two well-muscled men dug a new well and enclosed it with a waist-high stone wall. A post was pounded into the ground from which a wooden arm could be swung over the well to lower the bucket into the water, drawn up, and swung back over the well wall for the water-drawer’s convenience. A sturdy door was hung. Two windows with rounded tops were set, covered with very thin sheets of animal membrane, which served a dual purpose-to allow the light in and keep the wind out. The shed was swept clean of dust and vermin. It was whitewashed inside to aid in lighting it. Shelves were built to store Elf’s jars and materials. A table and a chair were built. Within seven days Elf had an excellent workshop.
In that time she had done her best for Dickon, making him a sweetened barley water, which she fed him in an effort to purge his system of whatever was harming it. Elf quickly noticed that while her sister-in-law hovered about making sympathetic noises, she did little to aid her husband. It was Ida who saw that her master’s bedding, linen, and person were kept clean and fresh. It was she who tended the terrible bedsores Dickon had, using a salve of lamb fat and acorn paste Elf had made after first smoothing beaten egg whites on the sores to ease their pain. Still, Isleen was kind to her husband’s sister, the manor hall was kept neat, and meals were served on time. Yet in the evening Isleen would sit on the far side of the fireplace with her cousin, the two of them speaking in whispers while the manor’s lord dozed on the other side. Elf, sitting next to her brother, worked on a tapestry to while away the time. Was there something wrong as Ida was constantly hinting, given the opportunity; or was poor, beautiful Isleen simply taking comfort in the company of her relative?
I must not think idle and evil thoughts, Elf chided herself. Isleen and Saer de Bude do nothing wrong, and they are in full sight of everyone in the hall.
Ida’s son, John, and his son, Arthur, took it upon themselves to build a small fireplace in the herbarium. It was a small raised half hearth, constructed upon a base of stones with a slate flooring, and set above floor level in a wall. Its shape was a half round, and when the two men had finished it, they drilled holes in the side of the hearth and affixed a swinging iron arm from the smithy that would hold a pot. A little chimney ran up the outside of the shed, which was now quite habitable. Both men were delighted when Elf thanked them profusely.
' 'Twere nothing, lady,' John said quietly. 'I know little of your skills, but I did not think you should have to go outside each time you needed hot water. Especially if the weather were foul.'
'I hope I have not taken you from your manor chores,' Elf replied. 'I would not want the lady to be angry with you on my account.'
'The manor is well looked after by your serfs, my lady Eleanore. We do not need the likes of that knight telling us what to do. He is not a man of the land, and knows less than nothing. You will forgive my frank speech, lady, but my mother says you are too good, and I would have no harm come to you, or yours.' John then gave a little bow, saying, 'We are your serfs to command, lady, and will protect you if we must.' Then he turned from her, leaving Elf quite puzzled in her new domain.
During the week the shed was being made useful again, Elf had enlisted the company of several young female serfs to go searching in the fields and woods for many of the things she needed to make her remedies. Pinecones had been gathered, for they were useful in healing problems of the kidneys and bladder, although if not used properly were known to excite lustful desires. She had found a small store of acorns in a storage room beneath the hall, and was grateful for them. There would be no more acorns until the autumn. There was some wheat and barley remaining in the granary from the previous harvest. Elf took a basket of each. She roasted the latter grain, for otherwise it was mildly laxative. Mixed and cooked with dried figs in a sweetened water, it was a cure for abscesses. She found a host of capers growing on some rough ground near the granary, and gathered them, for they were most valuable for any number of complaints from a toothache to sciatica and cramps. A beehive in a half-rotted log in the nearby wood gave her a large cache of honey. The kitchen gardens yielded cabbages, marrows, cucumbers, leeks, onions, and garlic, as well as asparagus, spinach, lettuces, parsnips, and beets. There were mustard greens, mint, sage, parsley, and fennel. In a nearby meadow Elf discovered horehound growing, and behind her shed, elecampane.
Very soon sheaves of herbs were drying within the little building. Jars were filled with violets, dandelion roots, crocus bulbs, as well as figs and dates that Elf had taken from the kitchen. She had been surprised to find them there, for they were items not easily come by, but, the cook told her, the lady Isleen likes a sweet dessert occasionally. Albert had opened a small garden for Elf next to her shed. She planted all manner of herbs not grown in the kitchen’s gardens, including chamomile.
Dickon seemed to be growing weaker every day despite her efforts, but she found herself with a growing number of patients from among the serfs. When she questioned Ida about it, the old woman told her that Isleen was not particularly skilled at healing, and disliked such labor.
'But it is the lady’s duty to care for her people,' Elf said, shocked. 'Do you mean in all the years she has been married to my brother, she has not healed those who came to her for aid?'
'Not once,' Ida said. 'She does not give your brother an heir, although he has children among the serfs. She will not bind up her people’s wounds, or prescribe for an ague, or flux. She is useless.'
'But Dickon loves her,' Elf said softly.
Ida made a rude sound. Then she muttered, 'A lot of good it does him to love so useless a female. When my poor lord Richard is dead, you will be a better mistress for Ashlin, my dear lady.'
Elf said nothing more. It was foolish to argue with Ida. Her mind had been set against Isleen from the very moment she had arrived at Ashlin. Still, Elf was concerned about her sister- in-law. Just last night she had caught her feeding Dickon a sweetmeat that Elf knew he loved, but should not have. It was not the first time, either. Elf was hard put not to scold her sister-in-law severely. Instead she had protested gently while Isleen had looked properly contrite at first, then made a face at her.
'Isleen, you must not feed Dickon anything of which I do not approve,
