Free The Knight and The Healer: A Medieval Romance by Lorna Benson

bottom of this and we will discover if others are involved."
    Fr. Tobias joined Mal and Beth, "the man is dead and will be answering for his sins before a Higher Power. I don't envy him his future".
    Mal suggested "we must take his body and return to the Castle. They will find a place for his sorry remains. Tobias, help me drape the body over Beth's mare and she can ride in front of me."
    Nobody talked during the trip back. Beth, trembling and on the verge of vomiting, riding with Mal felt somewhat safer in his arms.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 20
    Two days later, Beth was dead tired. She had been called by a midwife to assist in a difficult a breech birth delivery. The labor had lasted hours. As she slowly climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she was still shaken by the attempt on her life. But now she reflected on the positive outcome of the birth, a new baby boy.
    The mother, Helen Shawcroft, was the wife of the village potter. This was baby number four but her first boy. Needless to say, the father, Peter, was overjoyed. The mother was just glad to have an end to a relentless labor.
    In an effort to ease the pain, the flanks of the woman were rubbed with rose oil and she was given vinegar mixed with sugar to drink. Some midwives advocated using gemstones or applying poultices of eagle's dung. Beth did not approve nor permit either method.
    Beth knew she had been lucky. Many breach babies died during the birthing process. In this case, after moistening her hands with a decoction of flaxseed and chickpeas, she was able to turn the boy's head into the proper position. The maneuvering was quite painful to the mother and very draining for the healer. However, the next contraction was rewarded with the lusty cry of the infant.
    Tradition required Beth to stay while the umbilical cord was burned. The prevailing belief held the purifying influence of fire was seen as a way of counteracting the sinful origins of conception.
    Helen was attended by two of her sisters and the midwife so Beth was comfortable in excusing herself after three intense hours and head for home. The women understood the consequences of the breech delivery and the likelihood of the baby not surviving. The positive result was sure to add to Beth's growing reputation as a miraculous healer.
    When home, Beth heated water both for tea and to wash herself after the messy delivery. When finished, she slid under the covers of her bed and was soon sleeping soundly.
    Pound, pound, pound, "Lady Beth, Lady Beth wake up", pound, pound. Her front door was under attack. She was suddenly awake. Startled, her heart was beating like a drum.  She grabbed her robe and ran down the stairs and threw open the door. Two squires from the castle were standing on her porch.
    "What is it? What's wrong?"
    "It's Sir Malcolm. He's burning up, he's drenched in sweat, and he won't stop moaning. He is very ill." One of the two squires at her door exclaimed, "Lady Margaret begs you to come quickly."
    "Just give me a moment to dress." Beth quickly sprinted up the stairway, shed her shift and pulled on her work-a-day smock. On her way out the front door, she grabbed the "ready" bag she had previously prepared and was always handy.
    Moving at a speed between running and trotting, she was soon on the third floor and greeted by Lady Margaret. "Thank god you've come. Mal is in deep trouble. He seems to have picked up an infection somewhere. We thought he was well on the way to recovery!"
    "Yesterday morning, on the way to my uncle's, we were attacked by a troubadour. Mal killed him, but not before he struck Mal across his chest striking his wound and unseating him. Mal swore he was fine. Apparently, he was wrong."
    "What? You were attacked? Why am I just hearing of this now?"
    "Mal planned a full report to the Laird when he returns. He felt there was no further threat so no reason to alarm you."
    "And now he lies inside perhaps dying."
    Beth entered the room, her head spinning. This was no mere patient,