Page 74 of Laird of Smoke
When she carried the bairn into a patch of sunlight coming through the door, the wee thing didn’t flinch once.He hadn’t the strength.He barely had the strength to breathe.
“Has he been fed?”she asked.
“He won’t take the teat,” the young woman said.“I’ve tried givin’ him milk from our cow…honey…a wee bit o’ gruel.He won’t eat a thing.”She dissolved into tears.
Eve placed the back of her hand on his brow.It was hot and dry.
“Water?”Adam suggested.
She nodded.“A clean, wet rag.”
While she waited, she closed her eyes and murmured a long and fervent prayer for the child.
Adam brought the wet rag, and she squeezed a dribble of water out of it onto the bairn’s lips.But there was no response.
She opened his mouth with her finger and drizzled a little moisture within.But he was too weak for even that.And she dared not pour any more into his mouth, lest he choke on it.
Adam came up beside her and mumbled, “He’s not breathin’.”
He was right.Her heart leaped into her throat.It was one thing not to eat.It was another not to breathe.Her mind raced.What herb was good to clear breathing?
Mint.“My satchel.Look for the green vial.”
Adam nodded.There was no time for ceremony.He dumped the contents of her satchel across the rush-covered floor.Costumes and weapons, books and tools, food and bottles spilled out with a clatter.But though he inspected each label on every vial, he couldn’t find a green one.
Then she remembered.She’d used the last of it for Sister Eithne’s sore throat.
“Bloody hell,” she mumbled in frustration.
“What do ye need?”he asked.
“Mint.”
He grimaced doubtfully, but he upended his satchel anyway and began rummaging through the copious contents.
Meanwhile she continued reciting under her breath every prayer she knew, praising God in His mercy, calling on the Lord’s forgiveness, beseeching Him to restore the wee bairn to health, giving Him all glory and praise.
To her amazement, Adam returned with a packet of dried mint.Was there anything he didn’t have in that satchel?
“Can ye heat a wee bit o’ water?”she called over her shoulder to the bairn’s mother.“Not too hot, warm to the touch.”
The woman nodded.
It would take several moments before the water was warm enough to steep the mint and make an infusion to help the bairn breathe.
Adam apparently thought that was too long.Before Eve could protest, he snatched the bairn from her, pinched its nose closed, and blew a light breath into his mouth.
She was mortified and curious all at once.Would that work?
The air trickled out, but the bairn didn’t take another breath in.
Adam repeated the process with the same result.
Five more times he blew into the bairn’s mouth, inflating his wee lungs.But nothing helped.
“The water’s warm,” the mother called out.
Eve took the bairn from Adam and said, “Put the mint in the water, and bring the wet rag.”
