Page 6 of The Guardian's Bride
Wiping the wet cloth over his brow, she felt sure what she must do. Setting the cloth aside, she reached into her pouch to remove the stone wrapped in white silk. The round crystal had beautiful cloudlike strands floating inside that winked in the candlelight. She dropped it into the unused jug of water.
Listening to his ragged breathing, feeling the heat of his skin, she waited. Then she extracted the charm stone, dried it in thesilk, and poured some of the water from the jug into a wooden cup.
“Drink this.”
“No wine,” he protested hoarsely.
“Water,” she said, and supported his shoulders as he lifted his head. He sipped, losing some of the liquid into his beard. As she drizzled water between his lips, he sucked it, took some from her fingers, then sank back in exhaustion, eyes closed.
The charm stone grew warm, cupped in her hand. She held it up to the candlelight. It sparkled inside, bright and alive somehow. Rotating the gleaming sphere in her hand, she drew a breath, another, readying herself.
Then she touched the stone gently to Sir Aedan’s brow and held it there. A tiny golden glow bloomed in the heart of the crystal. She trailed it down to touch his lips. His breathing slowed, calmed.
Tracing the stone along, she touched the stone to the hollow of his throat next, and moved it to his breastbone. The crystal was nearly hot in her hand, as if it absorbed the fever and radiated some power.
When she had first used the stone, Aunt Una and Grandda Thomas taught her to dip the faery crystal in water to impart its healing power into water that could be sipped. They also taught her chants that would clear and strengthen the stone, and Una showed her that those same methods could be used with all charm stones. The Rhymer’s faery crystal had an unusual power to help and heal in the most serious instances, and must be used sparingly, she knew. Una had also shown her a method of touching the stone to the body to send healing there.
Instinct, or perhaps desperation, urged her to continue. She felt compelled to help this man however she could. The silence in the room was as deep as the darkness as she watched MacDuff in the candlelight, sweat beading on his brow, his breath ragged,too slow, too fast. She took his hand. His fingers flickered on hers. His eyelids fluttered. His lips were pale. He was weak, and weakening, and it frightened her.
She circled the stone over his heart, then brought the stone, softly glowing, to his abdomen to touch it there. Sweeping it over his legs and feet, she brought it back up along his body. Finally, she let the stone kiss his dry, tenderly shaped lips, then spiraled it over his brow and the crown of his head.
“Be healed, warrior,” she whispered.
The stone held a brightness now that looked like tiny streaks of lightning. She blew softly over the crystal, watching its inner light flicker, and she blew the light over his chest and his face.
“Be healed, whole and strong,” she whispered in a singsong chant. “Let the light of healing kindle in thy body and thy spirit. Let Heaven heal thee now.”
She breathed out the last word, waited, watched. The glow in the sphere faded and vanished. She wrapped the stone in silk and dropped it back into the purse. Touching the man’s shoulder, she sensed that his breathing had calmed.
“There,” she whispered. “Sleep and heal.”
Suddenly he moved, grabbing her wrist again with his uninjured hand, tight enough to bruise or crack her small bones.
“What was that—come here—” He pulled her close, his hand like iron, until her face was near his. “The stone—tell me where you got it!”
Chapter Three
Delirium, she realized,gave him a terrible strength.
“Sir,” she said, gasping as she resisted his grip. “I only used a charm stone—”
“Charming, aye, she is. But tell me what were you doing with it—uh…” He winced, his grip lessening, tightening again. “If I die, what then for the stone?”
Did he think a charm stone could harm him? “You will not die. I will not let you.”
“Only I know what it is. Only I know. I must guard the stone.”
“What?” Did he mean the Rhymer’s charm stone? “The stone is safe with me.”
“I keep the stone,” he rasped. “Precious. I alone know what it is—but now I must tell you before I die.” He pulled her closer, his beard a soft brush against her cheek.
She pushed herself away with a hand on his chest. “Try to sleep, sir. All will be well.”
“Not well. Must tell you. I have to trust you.” He gasped for breath.
“I do not understand. I am only a healer, only here to help you.”
“Stones! There is magic in that stone.” Releasing her hand, he cupped the back of her head to draw her nearer. In the candlelight, his green eyes were flecked with gold and glittering with fever.
