For another hour she fought on, but she was now tiring rapidly. Pulling back from his body she slumped in her chair and sipped her cold tisane. Whatever had killed Ruathain was now destroying his brother. Again she turned to Gwen. ‘How long was Ruathain sick?’
‘Almost a year now. At first he just felt weak, and had no appetite. He would sleep all the time. Then, as the months passed, he grew weaker and weaker. He rallied when Banouin tended him – but only for a while. Why has it struck Orrin so savagely? He looks now like my Ru at the end.’
‘Orrin is younger. Perhaps that is the key. Perhaps a strapping lad can fight off this . . . this malady with more strength than a child. But there is a link here that we must find. Otherwise he will not last the night.’
Closing her eyes she entered his body again, but this time, instead of joining the bloodstream, she floated just below the surface of his skin, helping to ease out the fever. When she reached the area of his chest she felt a sudden burning that caused her to flee to the sanctuary of her body. Rising from her chair she moved to a tall chest under the window, upon which lay some balls of thread and a long pair of scissors. Returning to the bedside she cut open the little boy’s tunic.
Upon his chest lay a ring of white gold, with a moonstone at the centre. Orrin had hung it round his neck with a long leather thong.
‘What is this?’ asked Vorna, cutting the thong and lifting the ring clear.
‘It is Ruathain’s ring. Orrin must have taken it as a keepsake, to remind him of his brother.’
Vorna laid the ring upon the floor, then returned to the child. Now, as she flowed through him, healing the tortured tissue, there was no secondary attack. Orrin’s heartbeat grew stronger, his fever abating.
Vorna covered him with a blanket. ‘He looks a little better,’ said Gwen.
‘He is well,’ Vorna told her. ‘The evil is gone from him.’ Lifting the ring on the end of her scissors she examined it. It was beautifully crafted. ‘Where did Ruathain acquire this?’ she asked.
‘Meria gave it to him. It was originally a gift for Connavar from a Stone merchant, but the king does not wear rings. So Meria gave it to Ru. Why do you ask?’
Vorna walked to the kitchen, returning with a flat length of black slate which she laid on the chest by the window. Lifting a lantern from a bracket on the wall she placed it alongside the slate, then dropped the ring onto the gleaming black surface. As Gwen watched, Vorna held her hand over the ring and whispered a Word of Power. The temperature in the room plummeted, and upon the slate ice formed instantly. The moonstone glowed bright, then cracked open. Grey fluid oozed from the stone, spreading out across the slate. Vorna snapped her fingers, and the temperature rose once more. Gwen stared at the ruined ring.
‘It is poison,’ said Vorna, ‘distilled by a mistress of the craft. She split the stone, hollowed out the centre, and made many imperceptible holes through the surface. Then she filled the centre with poison, remade the stone, and set it within this ring of white gold. Once the moonstone touched human skin it would slowly seep its poison into the blood. It was obviously meant to kill Connavar.’
‘Then all I had to do to save Ru was remove the ring?’ said Gwen. ‘Oh, sweet heaven!’
‘Do not blame yourself, Gwen. You could not know. The fault is not yours.’
‘Yes, it is,’ said Gwen. ‘I wanted to come to you and ask you to tend my son. But I did not. Had I done so my Ru would still be alive.’
‘Mam!’ said Orrin. ‘Mam!’
Gwen went to the bedside. ‘Hello, my little one,’ she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, Mam. I was sitting with Ruathain, and there was this bright light. And I woke up.’ He looked around. ‘Where are we, Mam?’