The Black Knight of Ashfern

Chapter 5

For the space of a small eternity, the two regarded each other quietly. Jamie, set free of Hoss' grasp, stood eying Ashfern's infamous Black Knight with all the trust of an ill-treated dog, which was very much what he reminded William of. In his dirty little trousers and shirt, the odd hole appeared here and there. His shoes were cracked, caked with mud, and tied with enough twine it was a wonder they could still be called shoes.

"Where is she?" Jamie spoke first, maintaining a watchful gaze over the sinister man most considered the right hand of Death. For all the boy knew, William could have been death come to call, but he would not receive him until he saw Nan.

Raising a hand toward the door, William tilted his head for the boy to follow him. The second William opened the door to his chamber, Jamie ran to Nan's side, though, to his surprise, the boy didn't shriek her name or try to rouse her. He just stood there staring down at her, shaking with anger, which William thought odd. Why would the boy be angry with her? Obviously, he cared very deeply for her, or he would not have put on such a show in William's study.

When the boy turned to face William, he suddenly understood who he was angry with. Had the child been but a few years older and a bit bigger, William was certain he would have tried to fight him or at least punch him; as it was, he merely stared at William with all the warmth and affection of a winter breeze on the northern sea. He blamed William for her illness, though he had no idea what he had done to cause it.

"Her bag?" the boy snapped, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared pure hate at William.

With a nod, William looked to a small window by the door, her large bag sitting on the floor below it. In an instant, Jamie was on it. Tossing aside the rags Nan had bartered for until he found several small packets and carefully placed them on the floor before him. Followed by small mixing bowls, measuring spoons, and other accruements. William watched as the boy mixed and mashed Nan's ingredients. Measuring out this powder and adding that one. It was when the boy stopped his work and looked about that William spoke, not wishing to disturb him if what he was doing could help Nan.

"What is it you need?"

"Hot water, a cup, and a spoon." The boy replied. "She needs to drink this." He raised the bowl that held his remedy. With yet another nod, William left the room to order what the boy needed.

A short time later, his supplies arrived, and Jamie mixed the odd-smelling brew that turned the once clear water a murky green. Carefully, Jamie placed himself next to Nan, handing the steaming cup to William as he tried to wake her, but no amount of calling or nudging seemed to work. William began to worry that she had been like this too long. That the fever had sapped too much of her strength.

"How much of this must she drink?" William asked, raising the cup.

"All of it," Jamie replied absently, looking to William as he handed the boy the cup and waved for him to move. Confused the boy did as bid watching as William took up Jamie's seat on the bed and pulled Nan's limp form up, her head rolling to the side. With one arm wrapped around Nan's shoulders supporting her, William took the cup from Jamie's with his free hand and took a sip. Wincing as the foul brew assaulted his taste buds.

"God. That's foul." William choked.

"It's a remedy, not a refreshment." Jamie glared.

Nodding William took a larger sip and thrust the cup back to Jamie. Cupping Nan's face, he pressed the corners of her mouth, forcing it open. Once it had opened he slanted his mouth across hers and pushed the brew from his mouth into hers. Pulling away quickly, he covered her mouth and tipped her head back; he held her steady as she coughed and hacked, trying to spit out the concoction until finally surrendering and swallowing.