"Why do you have no children?" Elf asked him frankly.

"It is Isleen," he replied, "although I dare not tell her, for it would break her heart. I have two sons and a daughter among the serfs, but you must not say I told you so. She believes because I am ill, it is my fault, but it is not. You will keep my secret, Elf, will you not? I have confessed my fault to you, and are you not bound by your vocation to keep the knowledge of my sins to yourself? God will judge me." He smiled weakly at her.

She wondered why he had felt it necessary to seek among the serf girls. Still, it was not her business, she decided, pushing the thoughts from her head. "I will keep your secret, brother," she promised. "Now, you must sleep again while I ask Isleen to find me a place to set up my herbarium. If I am to help you, I cannot delay. Where is old Ida?"

"She has not spoken to me since the day I took you away, nor has she set foot in this house."

"I will find her," Elf told him, "and she will help me to get you well, Dickon." She arose from his side, and calling to a servant, asked, "Where is the lady of the manor?"

"She is in her gardens, lady," the servant answered.

"Take me to her," Elf said, "and then go find old Ida. Tell her I am home, and I need her aid."

Elf followed the servant to the manor garden, where the roses were already in bloom. The garden was not as well kept as it had been in her mother’s day, she noted. At first she did not see her sister-in-law, but then she spied Isleen with her cousin, their heads together, seated on a wooden bench at the far end of the garden. Elf called to her as the servant accompanying her hurried off in the opposite direction.

Isleen seemed to leap from her seat and, turning about, came toward Elf. "Gracious, you startled me, Eleanore," she said. Her cheeks were flushed, and the color made her look all the more beautiful.

"I do not mean to disturb you, sister, but I need a place where I may set up my little herbarium. I have seen Dickon now, and he is indeed seriously ill. I pray God I can help him."

"As do I, dear sister," Isleen said sweetly. "There is a small shed at the end of the garden that I believe would be perfect for your purposes. Come, and see it." She was pointedly ignoring Saer de Bude now as if he did not even exist. Isleen’s pale blue skirts swayed gracefully as she moved through the rosebushes.

The fragrance of the pink, white, and red blooms was heady. Large bumblebees floated about the flower heads, dipping into the blossoms to gather their nectar, the hum of their wings just barely audible. Elf followed in her sister-in-law’s perfumed wake to the edge of the garden, where a small, rather ramshackle building stood.

"Will this do?" Isleen inquired in dulcet tones.

"It will have to," Elf told her. "It’s really in the best place for my herbarium. Will you permit me to requisition some serfs to make any necessary repairs, Isleen?"

"Of course" came the reply. "This is, after all, your home." The last was said a bit tartly, and Elf heard the change in tone in her companion’s voice.

Isleen knows if Dickon dies that Ashlin is mine. She is bitter about it, Elf thought. "Thank you," she told Isleen.

Isleen shrugged. "I will leave you to your work, then, Eleanore," she said, and hurried back up the garden path.

"My baby! Is it really you?" An old woman hobbled into view.

"Ida!" Elf’s face broke into a smile, and she enfolded the elderly nursemaid in her embrace. "Oh, Ida! How good it is to see you once again. Dickon tells me you have not spoken to him since I went to St. Frideswide's. That was really very bad of you, and now my poor brother lies ill unto death, I fear. I need your help, Ida."

"Now that you are here, my baby, I will enter that house again, and make my peace with the lord Richard. I swore I would not do it until you returned, and I have kept my promise." The old lady’s jaw was set firmly with her resolve, and her hazel eyes were sharp.

"But what if I had not come home, Ida?" Elf gently said. "Surely you could not have allowed Dickon to go to his grave without your forgiveness?"

"How could I forgive him when he chose her over his own blood?" Ida said fiercely. "It was her duty as lady of the manor to raise her husband’s younger sister as your mother was dead, God as-soil the lady Adeliza’s good and pure soul! Great heiresses have gone into their husband’s homes and raised their younger brothers and sisters, and even their children from earlier marriages. But not that one!"

"You do not like her," Elf said quietly. "Why? Surely not just because Dickon sent me away, Ida?"

"It began with that," Ida told her former charge. "But then I have watched these nine years while she lorded it over your poor, benighted brother. He thinks the sun rises and sets on her, he does. When she came to this house, not a servant did she bring from her father’s house, though he could have easily afforded to give her several. We quickly learned why, my child. She is a bad-tempered mistress, though never before your brother does she show her evil nature. She beats the servants at the slightest provocation, or complains to the lord Richard of some fault or slight in a servant that brings punishment. She is a wicked creature, my lady Elf, and you must beware of her!"

"But her cousin tells me she has nursed my brother with utter devotion," Elf protested.

"Hah!" Ida exclaimed. "If he is indeed her cousin. He came to Ashlin a year ago. Shortly before that your brother fell ill for the first time, although he had been the picture of health until then."

Elf felt a shiver race down her spine, but she shook off the feeling, saying, "I am certain that is just coincidence, Ida. We must not think ill of Isleen because Dickon is ill. I can only judge her on my own experience with her, and to date it has been a good one. She has welcomed me warmly and given me leave to take this little shed for an herbarium so I may help Dickon."

"Of course she is pleasant to you," Ida said. "You are her brother’s only living relative, and Ashlin will be yours if he dies."

"I know that," Elf replied, "but my brother is not going to die, Ida. I have learned a great deal from Sister Winifred, and she says I am the best student she has ever taught. I am told I shall be her assistant when I take my final vows, and one day, God willing, I shall serve the convent as its infirmarian. That is the life God has planned for me, and it is the life I want. Now, let us find some brooms, old friend, and clean this little shed so it is a suitable place for me to set up my herbarium and make my medicines."

"You are too innocent, and your heart is far too good," Ida said, then rushed to obey her young mistress.


***

Several young strong serfs came, and removed the clutter of many years from the shed. A fire was built nearby to heat the water that would be necessary to clean the shed properly, while two well-muscled men dug a new well and enclosed it with a waist-high stone wall. A post was pounded into the ground from which a wooden arm could be swung over the well to lower the bucket into the water, drawn up, and swung back over the well wall for the water-drawer’s convenience. A sturdy door was hung. Two windows with rounded tops were set, covered with very thin sheets of animal membrane, which served a dual purpose-to allow the light in and keep the wind out. The shed was swept clean of dust and vermin. It was whitewashed inside to aid in lighting it. Shelves were built to store Elf’s jars and materials. A table and a chair were built. Within seven days Elf had an excellent workshop.

In that time she had done her best for Dickon, making him a sweetened barley water, which she fed him in an effort to purge his system of whatever was harming it. Elf quickly noticed that while her sister-in-law hovered about making sympathetic noises, she did little to aid her husband. It was Ida who saw that her master’s bedding, linen, and person were kept clean and fresh. It was she who tended the terrible bedsores Dickon had, using a salve of lamb fat and acorn paste Elf had made after first smoothing beaten egg whites on the sores to ease their pain. Still, Isleen was kind to her husband’s sister, the manor hall was kept neat, and meals were served on time. Yet in the evening Isleen would sit on the far side of the fireplace with her cousin, the two of them speaking in whispers while the manor’s lord dozed on the other side. Elf, sitting next to her brother, worked on a tapestry to while away the time. Was there something wrong as Ida was constantly hinting, given the opportunity; or was poor, beautiful Isleen simply taking comfort in the company of her relative?

I must not think idle and evil thoughts, Elf chided herself. Isleen and Saer de Bude do nothing wrong, and they are in full sight of everyone in the hall. God forgive me, Elf prayed, for sitting in judgment of my brother’s wife. Ida is querulous and bitter. She has no children to care for, and children are her very life. "Ave, Maria, gratia plenia," Elf murmured, and afterward thought she did not like being kept away from St. Frideswide's, where her days were peaceful and her hours ordered.

Ida’s son, John, and his son, Arthur, took it upon themselves to build a small fireplace in the herbarium. It was a small raised half hearth, constructed upon a base of stones with a slate flooring, and set above floor level in a wall. Its shape was a half round, and when the two men had finished it, they drilled holes in the side of the hearth and affixed a swinging iron arm from the smithy that would hold a pot. A little chimney ran up the outside of the shed, which was now quite habitable. Both men were delighted when Elf thanked them profusely.

" 'Twere nothing, lady," John said quietly. "I know little of your skills, but I did not think you should have to go outside each time you needed hot water. Especially if the weather were foul."

"I hope I have not taken you from your manor chores," Elf replied. "I would not want the lady to be angry with you on my account."

"The manor is well looked after by your serfs, my lady Eleanore. We do not need the likes of that knight telling us what to do. He is not a man of the land, and knows less than nothing. You will forgive my frank speech, lady, but my mother says you are too good, and I would have no harm come to you, or yours." John then gave a little bow, saying, "We are your serfs to command, lady, and will protect you if we must." Then he turned from her, leaving Elf quite puzzled in her new domain.

During the week the shed was being made useful again, Elf had enlisted the company of several young female serfs to go searching in the fields and woods for many of the things she needed to make her remedies. Pinecones had been gathered, for they were useful in healing problems of the kidneys and bladder, although if not used properly were known to excite lustful desires. She had found a small store of acorns in a storage room beneath the hall, and was grateful for them. There would be no more acorns until the autumn. There was some wheat and barley remaining in the granary from the previous harvest. Elf took a basket of each. She roasted the latter grain, for otherwise it was mildly laxative. Mixed and cooked with dried figs in a sweetened water, it was a cure for abscesses. She found a host of capers growing on some rough ground near the granary, and gathered them, for they were most valuable for any number of complaints from a toothache to sciatica and cramps. A beehive in a half-rotted log in the nearby wood gave her a large cache of honey. The kitchen gardens yielded cabbages, marrows, cucumbers, leeks, onions, and garlic, as well as asparagus, spinach, lettuces, parsnips, and beets. There were mustard greens, mint, sage, parsley, and fennel. In a nearby meadow Elf discovered horehound growing, and behind her shed, elecampane.

Very soon sheaves of herbs were drying within the little building. Jars were filled with violets, dandelion roots, crocus bulbs, as well as figs and dates that Elf had taken from the kitchen. She had been surprised to find them there, for they were items not easily come by, but, the cook told her, the lady Isleen likes a sweet dessert occasionally. Albert had opened a small garden for Elf next to her shed. She planted all manner of herbs not grown in the kitchen’s gardens, including chamomile.