verin stared at the man a moment, then waved him away. “Get him
‘ called to Alice. “His voice cracked from thirst even as he spoke to me.”
Hastings knew, however, that the messenger’s voice had cracked because he’d been terrified that Severin would kill him.
“I fear I must go to Langthorne, Hastings. There is no time for this Rosehaven, no time for anything else.”
“We will leave within the hour, Severin.”
He arched a dark eyebrow. “I would make better time were I to have just men with me.”
“You will see that I shan’t slow you. Besides, when we find your mother, perhaps I could give her some herbs that would make her better. What is her illness, Severin?”
“She is mad.”
Madness? Hastings wondered if her father had known about this. Surely he hadn’t, else he would never have picked Severin to continue his line, not if there was madness in it. “Tell me more specifically what she does or says or how she acts.”
“She can act very normally, converse with you like she is still the lady of the keep, then, suddenly, her eyes will go blank. She will say strange things. She will not know who she is or who you are. Several times I saw her throw herself to her knees and try to hit her head against the stones. Then she will sleep for many hours. When she wakes, she is usually normal again. But nothing is ever certain. That is why I had two women to keep close to her.”
“Ah.” It sounded like no madness Hastings had ever heard of. It sounded very strange indeed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I must consult the Healer before we leave. Do you wish me to try to help her?”
“Very well, but G went and some of my men will accompany you. I don’t want to take a chance on losing you.”
She said nothing to that. She’d gone into the forest more times than she could count over the years to meet with the Healer. But now she was married and her husband wished to guard her. Protect her. Was he afraid
hat she would fall and hurt her toe? No, certainly not. She decided that tection from a man who made her feel as he did perhaps wasn’t such
a bad thing at all.
“Give me leave to worry about you now, Hastings.”
She blinked up at him. “Do you now so easily read my mind, my
lord?”
“Your thoughts are sometimes as clear to me as Edgar the
wolfhound’s.”
That made her laugh. Without thought she kissed him, in front of the messenger, in front of all the people who were in the great hall.
“Aye those thoughts of yours are simple and straightforward, but I mind not, Hastings. Take care and come back to me quickly.”
She frowned, saying, “Why wouldn’t this Sir Roger want you to know immediately that your mother had disappeared?”
“A very good question. I will look forward to his explanation.”
Hastings imagined that Sir Roger had kept quiet because he had a healthy desire to keep his hide intact. He was doubtless praying that he would find his overlord’s mother alive and thus escape Severin’s anger. It was not to be.
Hastings had always believed that the Healer was older than the sessile oaks that grew thick and strong by her cottage-that, indeed, she had magically appeared on the earth at the same time those trees had burst through the soil. But her face was unlined, her skin soft, her hair was black with but a few strands of gray weaving through it. She always wore a dark brown wool gown with a rope tied around her waist. For as long as Hastlngs could remember, the Healer had always looked the same.
* he Healer wasn’t smiling at the group of men who rode to her cotge- She didn’t smile either when she saw Hastings, just waited patiently, h« hands very still at her sides.
– HI
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“Healer,” Hastings said as she dismounted her palfrey, Marella. “You look well. Ah, and here is Alfred.” The huge brindle cat leapt into her arms, making her stagger back. Hastings heard the men’s hoarse whispers. They were probably crossing themselves, for the cat surely had to be the largest in all of England. Hastings hugged Alfred, petted his big head, then set him down.