That was good luck,’ said Beltzer, finally stripping his bearskin jerkin and squatting on the rug beside the fire. ‘That blizzard could have hit us days ago, and we’d have been trapped out in the mountains for weeks.’
‘It may be lucky for you, dung-brain,’ said Finn, ‘but I do not relish my home being rilled with sweating bodies for days on end.’
Beltzer grinned at the black-bearded hunter. ‘You’re the least welcoming man I’ve ever known. Where do you keep the drink?’
‘In the well outside. Where else?’
‘I mean the ale, or the wine, or even the malt spirit?’
‘We have none here.’
‘None?’ asked Beltzer, eyes widening. ‘None at all?’
‘Not a drop,’ answered Maggrig, smiling. ‘Now how lucky do you feel?’ His face was white and sweat dripped into his eyes. He tried to stand, but sank back in his chair.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ said Finn, rising and moving to the younger man.
Maggrig shrugged. ‘I don’t . . . feel. . .’ He sagged sideways from the chair. Finn caught him and carried him to the bed, where Chareos joined him.
‘He has a fever,’ said Chareos, laying his hand on the hunter’s brow. Maggrig’s eyes opened.
‘Room’s going round . . . thirsty …” Finn brought him a goblet of water and lifted his head while he drank.
Kiall cleared his throat. ‘If you boil some water, I’ll make a potion for him.’
Finn swung on him. ‘What are you … a magician?’
‘I was an apothecary’s assistant, and I bought some herbs and powders back in Tavern Town.’
‘Well, come and look at him, boy. Don’t just stand there!’ stormed Finn. Kiall moved to the bedside. First he examined the wound on Maggrig’s temple; it had closed and healed well, but his master had always told him that blows to the head often shocked the system. Perhaps the second injury, caused by the leopard’s attack, had caught the hunter in a weakened state. Trying to remember what Ulthen had told him of such wounds, he removed the bandage from Maggrig’s arm; the cut was jagged and angry, but there was no pus or obvious sign of infection.
Kiall filled a small copper pot with water and hung it over the fire. Within a few minutes the contents were boiling. Then he opened his pack and took out a thick package, wrapped in oiled paper. Inside were a dozen smaller packages, each decorated with a hand-drawn leaf or flower. Kiall selected two of the packets and opened them. Bruising the leaves, he dropped them into the water and stirred the brew with a spoon. Then lifting the pot from the fire, he laid it in the hearth to cool.
‘Smells fine,’ said Beltzer.
‘How would you know?’ hissed Finn. ‘What have you made there, boy?’
‘It’s a potion from willow leaves and comfrey. Both are good for fighting fevers, but the comfrey helps to clean the blood and give strength to a sick man.’
‘What else is it good for?’ asked Beltzer.
‘It helps to heal bones and reduce swellings, and stops diarrhoea. It has also – so my master told me – been used to prevent gangrene in wounds. Oh yes … it is good for rheumatic pain too.’
‘Then while you have the ingredients there, my boy,’ said Beltzer, ‘better make another pot. I have the rheumatism in my knee. Hurts like Hades.’
When the mixture had cooled, Kiall carried it to Mag-grig’s bedside and Finn held the hunter’s head while he drank. At first he choked, but he swallowed half of the contents and sank back. Kiall covered him with a blanket and Finn sat at the bedhead, mopping the sweat from Maggrig’s brow. Beltzer strolled over and finished the brew, belching loudly.
For an hour or more there was no change in Maggrig’s condition, but at last he drifted off into sleep. ‘His colour is a little better,’ said Finn, looking to Kiall for confirmation. The youngster nodded, though he could see little change. ‘Will he be all right now?’ Finn asked.
‘We’ll see tomorrow,’ answered Kiall cagily. He stood and stretched his back. Looking around, he saw that Beltzer had fallen asleep by the fire and Chareos was nowhere in sight. The back-room door was open and Kiall wandered through. It was colder here, but not uncomfortable. Chareos was sitting at the work-bench examining sections of wood shaped for a long-bow.