The next three hours went by swiftly with Elias and Simon carrying heavy sacks and potted plants, chopping wood for the hearth and carrying it to the Bennetts’ house with the red roof.
During his first stop there, Elias commented on the delicious aroma of Lily’s cooking, and then remembered Simon’s words and said nothing else while they worked.
Supper was vegetable stew made with turnips, onions, carrots, radishes, and an array of herbs, including sage, rosemary, thyme, and cumin to add to the delicious flavor. There was fresh baked bread, sweet butter and Lily’s very own homemade ale. Talk at the table was light, with Elias and Lily looking at everything but each other.
When supper was over, Richard put him and Simon back to work. This time, crushing leaves and boiling roots. Elias watched how Richard measured out everything precisely on his scales. He drained the liquid and dredged it for any bits, then added other mixtures of things like vinegar and honey or oils. But they had no idea if it would work against the Black Death.
Lily was present, working with them, trying to find a cure for something they knew nothing about.
When the futility of what they were doing hit them, they went to bed, exhausted and achy.
Elias slept well for one hour and then awoke to men screaming in agony all around him. Some men were screaming from things he’d done to them, slicing off their heads or their arms, or cutting through their bodies and then looking into their soulless eyes. Some men were his comrades, crying out for help or for God, clutching their fatal wounds.
Elias told himself it was a nightmare and that it was not happening now. But it felt like it was. It sounded like it was, and smelled like it was. He wanted to get away from it and clutched his head between his bent knees.
His heart was beating furiously, booming in his ears like a war drum. He had to move. He walked back and forth, crossing the boundary line into Scotland. He wanted to go home.
Someone was speaking to him in a soothing voice.
He reached home and found his family all dead, hanging from the rafters of the MacPherson stronghold. No!
“Elias.” Her soft voice tugged at him. ”Elias, come and sit.”
He wanted to go with her wherever she was going. But no. His kin—
“There now. All is well. All is well.”
He let her lead him and stepped up onto something soft…the bed
“Poor man,” she cooed close by. “Whatever have you been through?”
Wars. He wanted to tell her.
Somewhere in the back of his thoughts, he heard Simon’s voice, but hers took precedence. “I will go make you some chamomile tea. You stay here with Richard and Brother Simon.”
”Dinna go!” He clasped her wrist when she rose to leave.
“I will see to the tea,” said Richard the apothecary.
Elias didn’t want tea. He wanted her. He closed his eyes and went to a place where he could have her. His dreams.
Chapter Four
The next morning, Elias rose with the roosters and the aroma of warm bread with butter and apple mead. Simon was already up, likely to get the best portions of food.
Elias dressed quickly in his hose and a léine, dyed as blue as his eyes and belted around his waist. He pulled on his boots and a dark blue quilted doublet that flared at the hips. He tossed a thoughtful glance at his thick belt. Since Lily requested that his sheathed claymore and other various weapons remain in the kitchen with his plaid, there wasn’t any need for the belt. He headed down the stairway, feeling light.
He walked through the cozy sitting room and looked into the kitchen.
Sitting at the table were Lily and Simon, laughing softly.
Simon looked up and motioned for him to grab a stool from the sitting room and join them.
How kind of him, Elias ground his jaw and plucked a stool up in his hand. He didn’t want to feel envious of his best friend, but he did. He wanted what Simon had right now—just this innocent time with her, laughing, forgetting the world outside and the plague most likely on its way. Best portions, indeed.
“Good morn, Elias,” Lily greeted him with a smile. “Would you like some mead while I prepare your meal?”
She rose from her chair as Elias set down his stool. He nodded and swallowed, looking at her. She wore a white chemise beneath a violet, long-sleeved kirtle. Her pale tresses were plaited behind her head, but many wispy strands fell free around her face.