Legend of Lady Ilena

Chapter 1 "Ilena? Are you there?" The low stool he made for me when I was a child is near his bedplace. I pull it closer and sit beside him. "I'm here, Moren. What is it?" "My dream. I saw the hag at streamside." I feel a chill despite the warm fall sunlight flooding through the open door. "No! Do not think of that. I've sent for Aten. She'll bring stronger herbs." "It's too late. The old woman washed my clothes in the stream. The water ran red with my blood." I try to sound confident. "Aten will help. Have a drink of water. Your lips are dry from fever." My father clutches at my hand with a fumbling motion that tears at my heart. When he is well, his wrists bulge with the muscles of a warrior. He trained me day after day, year after year, until I too could swing the sword with either hand for hours. "Stamina, lass, stamina!" he would say as we practiced. "The battle goes to those who hold out until their opponents falter." It is agony for me to watch him now that he is weak and helpless, dependent on me to hold the bowl of water, to wipe his face, and to bring the slop jar. I lift his shoulders so that he can sip, then lay him back gently and take his hand in mine. "I saw her clearly," he says. Sudden tears blur my vision, and I swipe at them with my free hand. When a warrior dreams of the old woman at the stream, death is near. Cryner lets out a warning bark from his sunny spot by the front door. "Ilena?" It's Aten's voice from the path. I put Moren's hand down on the bedskins and hurry outside. Aten is the village healer. She and her husband helped us when my parents rode their tired horses over the snow-laden pass into this valley fifteen years ago. I was only a few days old, wrapped tightly against my mother's chest, weak with hunger because her milk wasn't strong enough yet to sustain me. It was Aten who put me to breast at once and saved my life. Her son, Jon, was two when we came. Her daughter, Fiona, was born a year after we arrived. They are my closest friends in the village, and I'm glad to see that Fiona is with her now. Cryner greets them and thrusts his head against Fiona's skirt until she stoops to scratch his long hound ears. She pushes him away when he tries to lick her face, and he goes back to resume his nap. Aten carries her small iron pot filled with medicines. She takes out a handful of plants and three cloth bundles, then hands me the empty kettle. "Get water heating, Ilena. Half-full will do. I'll put these inside where the wind won't take them, and I'll have a look at Moren." She disappears into the house. "Is it bad?" Fiona is already stirring the outside fire into a blaze. "I fear so," I answer. "He speaks of seeing the crone at the stream." She shakes her head. "Not a good sign, that." I dip water from the barrel by the door and hang the pot over the hottest part of the fire. "I'm glad you came," I say. "I heard the boys return from gathering wood and hailed them. I hoped they would get the message to you quickly." "Aye. Nol's son ran ahead of the others to tell us, and we left at once." Aten's face is grim when she comes out of the house. She jostles the iron kettle as if to urge it to heat faster before she turns to me. "His lungs are badly congested. When did he get home?" "Just before sunset yesterday," I reply. "I heard him coming and ran out to meet him. He was slumped over his horse's neck and could not raise himself enough to greet me. I caught him as he slid from the saddle, and I could feel the fever. "I got him into his bedplace and prepared a strong tea of pennyroyal and thyme. It lowered the fever, butMalone, Patricia is the author of 'Legend of Lady Ilena' with ISBN 9780440229094 and ISBN 044022909X.