Heart's Magic (26 page)

“Donada is being poisoned.” Hugh took his
accustomed place beside Mirielle on the bench in her workroom.
Gavin, who had come in with Hugh, paced about the room. Mirielle
turned from watching him to ask a question of her friend.

“Hugh, are you certain of this?” He sounded
as if he entertained no doubts at all, but Mirielle was shaken by
the possibilities she could see in his assessment.

“I have seen similar symptoms in the past.
Indeed, I have known people to die most horribly of Donada’s
ailment.”

“Who would do such a thing to her? Donada has
no enemies.” Then Mirielle thought of the day when she had seen
Donada in Brice’s arms in the mews.

“Alda?” Mirielle whispered, scarcely daring
to say the name aloud. “I cannot believe that Alda has the ability,
much less the opportunity, to poison anyone. She would need a
thorough knowledge of herbs.” Mirielle halted, catching her breath
as she recalled a recent conversation.

“What is it?” Gavin asked.

“Emma said something about inheriting her
interest in herbs and in alchemy from her mother,” Mirielle
answered. “She’d seen Alda doing something, but when I questioned
her, Emma decided she must have been mistaken, because she was a
very little girl at the time. And, knowing Alda as I do, I
discounted the idea. Do you think Emma could be right? Might Alda
know enough about poisons to harm Donada?”

Hugh nodded. “It is possible. Most noblewomen
have fairly extensive knowledge about the ordinary household and
medical uses of herbs, even though they may not care to use that
information. But, Mirielle, I am not talking about the misuse of
common preparations made from monkshood or hemlock or hellebore.
What is wrong with Donada is caused by the skillful administration
of a metallic substance over a long period of time. Thus, the
poisoning appears to be a disease and murder is never
suspected.”

“Murder?” Mirielle could feel the blood
leaving her face. “We cannot allow it to happen. Master Hugh, tell
me what the poison is and how we can counteract it to help
Donada.”

“The poison is made from realgar or from
orpiment,” Hugh said. “The ore is heated until the poison is
sublimated. When it cools, it crystalizes. The crystals thus
obtained are ground into a fine powder and introduced into food or
drink. A large dose kills immediately, but the symptoms appear so
suddenly and are so painful that it is obvious the person has been
poisoned. Careful villains use the more subtle method that is being
employed in Donada’s case.”

“But, Hugh,” Mirielle protested, “sublimation
is a process used by alchemists. I know of only three people in
this castle who have the knowledge required to make such a
poison—you, myself, and, possibly, Ewain the blacksmith.

“I do not believe you would poison anyone, I
know I would not, and I find it difficult to imagine Ewain doing
such a thing. He would need an accomplice, for he is seldom near
Donada. Ewain lives and works in the outer bailey, while Donada
spends her days mostly in the tower keep.”

“Whereas, Alda is frequently with Donada,”
said Gavin. “Donada is constantly making new gowns for her.”

“We cannot accuse a noblewoman of a terrible
crime without adequate proof,” Mirielle said.

“Have you ever kept realgar or orpiment in
this room?” Gavin asked. “Or in your bedchamber, to keep it out of
careless hands?”

“No,” Mirielle answered. “Once, Ewain brought
me antimony, and I tried to extract the mercury from it. I was not
successful. Another time, he gave me some lead, which I attempted
to change. But, as Ewain can tell you, all metals are expensive,
and many ores are hard to come by. My alchemical efforts have
continually faltered on that problem. If you are suggesting that
Alda might have taken from this room the materials she needed to
make a poison, it is impossible.

“Master Hugh,” Mirielle went on, turning to
him. “We can discuss later who is to blame for what has happened to
Donada. Our immediate concern must be how to help her.”

“I know of only one antidote to the poison,”
Hugh said, “and it is not always effective.”

“If it is the only possibility, then we must
try it,” Mirielle responded. “Make free use of this room to prepare
the antidote. Any of my supplies that you might need are at your
disposal.”

“Allow me to suggest,” said Gavin, “that for
her safety Donada be confined to her bedchamber and that she eat
and drink only what the two of you prepare and carry to her with
your own hands.”

“Agreed.” Hugh looked from Gavin to Mirielle.
“I have a few supplies among my belongings. I will get them from my
room and return shortly.”

“If anyone can save your friend, it will be
Hugh,” Gavin said to Mirielle. “I have seen him work wonders on men
near death from battle wounds.”

“This is not exactly the same thing.”
Mirielle brushed at her eyes. “I am afraid for Donada.”

Gavin caught one of her hands and lifted her
fingers to his lips for a lingering kiss.

“Gavin.” Her voice trembled. Her breath
caught in her throat. She knew she ought to pull her hand out of
his grasp, but she could not. Unable to stop herself, she touched
his face with the hand he was not holding. Softly she traced along
the line of his eyebrows, moved to his cheekbones, then down along
his jaw. She ended the caress at his mouth, running her fingertips
across the sensuous line of his lower lip. With a groan he turned
his head away, but still he held her hand, his fingers now
interlaced with hers.

“I would do more to show you how I feel,” he
said, “but we are pledged, you and I, to keep the marriage vows I
once made to Alda. Mirielle, I promise you, I will find a way
through the morass of deceit and evil that threatens this castle.
And when we come out on the other side, there will be a future far
different from the one we see now.”

Then, at last, he did release the hand he had
been holding all that time. He drew a deep breath as if to steady
himself and when he spoke again, it was in his brisk,
lord-of-the-castle voice.

“While you and Hugh do your best for Donada
in this room,” Gavin told her, “I will take steps to stop Alda from
causing more trouble.”

“Gavin, we cannot be absolutely certain that
Alda is to blame,” Mirielle insisted.

“I am certain,” he said.

It took several hours for Hugh and Mirielle,
working together, to complete preparation of the antidote to the
poison Hugh believed was being fed to Donada. When it was ready,
they took the medicine to Donada’s room. Robin was there, hovering
anxiously around his mother’s bed.

“Lady Mirielle,” Robin said as soon as he saw
her, “my mother was so much better yesterday evening, after we all
came in from flying our kites, but this afternoon, she fell ill
again. I was just about to search for you, to ask you to come to
her.”

“We have some new medicine for her.” Mirielle
set the tray she was carrying down on the clothes chest. She had
brought a stoppered bottle of the antidote, two clean cups, and a
pitcher of fresh water that she had personally drawn from the well.
While she mixed the antidote with water, Hugh explained the
restrictions on food and drink which he wanted Donada to
observe.

“Here you are.” Mirielle brought the cup of
medicine to Donada.

“I do not think I can swallow it,” Donada
rasped. “Since the midday meal, I have been so sick. I could not
keep down the food I ate.”

“You must take it.” Hugh lifted Donada’s head
and motioned for Mirielle to hold the cup to her lips. “Sip by sip,
it will make you better. Think of Robin. Think of all the pleasant
things you plan to do this spring and summer. Donada, you must
trust me when I say you will recover.”

“I wish it were so.” Donada sighed.

“It will be so.” Hugh took the cup from
Mirielle and held it to Donada’s lips again. She took another
sip.

Mirielle put an arm around Robin. She could
feel him trembling. When she looked at Hugh, she could sense how
worried he was.

Donada’s appearance was enough to raise fear
in the heart of anyone who beheld her. Her once thick and luxuriant
hair, so like Robin’s with its red-brown color and bouncy curls,
lay thin and limp across her shoulders. Donada had been a comely,
well-built woman; now she was pale and looked half starved. Her
lips were drawn back in a grimace of pain and when Donada lifted a
hand to her face, Mirielle saw that her nails had developed
peculiar streaks.

A voice in Mirielle’s mind told her that,
despite her best efforts and Hugh’s, Donada could not live much
longer.

Well after midnight the special latch on the
door to Mirielle’s workroom unfastened. Without a sound the door
swung open and a shadowy figure entered the unlit room. The figure
stood for a moment as if making a decision. Contempt and cold rage
flowed outward from that dark form.

As if a puny herbal medicine could stop me.
What an innocent Mirielle is, she and that little man Hugh, who
calls himself her friend. Their power combined will always be less
than the darkness. And the darkness will win.

Nothing was taken from the workroom. Rather,
something was left there. When the dark figure slipped out of the
door and closed it again, when the special latch refastened itself
at the silent command of that mysterious shadow, there remained
inside Mirielle’s workroom, on a shelf where jars of dried herbs
usually sat, a plain, oblong wooden box.

“Robin is sick,” Warrick told Mirielle. “He
says it is the same illness his mother has. Robin says Mistress
Donada began as he is doing.”

“Hugh and I made some new medicine
yesterday,” Mirielle said. “I will take some to Robin. Perhaps it
will prevent him from becoming as sick as his mother is.”

“Lady Mirielle.” Warrick hesitated, then
spoke in a rush. “Will others catch this sickness, too? Because if
so, I am the person most likely to develop it next, since I have
been with Robin every day for weeks. Therefore, I ought to be the
one to care for Robin, to avoid making others sick. If Emma learns
of his illness, she will insist on helping Robin. I want her to
stay away from him. And you, too, my lady.” Warrick’s brow
wrinkled. “I do not want either of you to become ill.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Mirielle
said. “I promise you, the illness is not contagious. Where is
Robin? I will go to him at once.”

“He’s in the garderobe.” Warrick blushed a
little. “He didn’t want me to tell anyone, but I think you need to
know. Robin is suffering from stomach cramps and a dreadful bout of
diarrhea.”

“It’s how his mother’s illness began.
Warrick, as soon as he can leave the garderobe, I want you to send
Robin to his mother’s room. Tell him not to eat or drink
anything—not anything at all!—unless Hugh or I personally give it
to him.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Then you are to find your father. Take him
aside and tell him in private what has happened. Tell no one else.
If you should see Master Hugh, ask him to come to me.”

To her despair, upon reaching Donada’s room
Mirielle found her friend even more sick than she had been on the
previous day.

“I don’t think your medicine is working.”
Donada could not speak above a whisper. She complained that her
lips and throat felt as if they were burning, and she wept when
Mirielle insisted she must swallow the medicine.

In the midst of Mirielle’s attempts to help
Donada, Robin appeared. After one look at the boy, Mirielle was
convinced that he, too, had been poisoned. She put him on a trundle
bed in his mother’s room. When Warrick arrived, eager to help his
friend, Mirielle gave him strict instructions on how to deal with
the sickness, and then she went in search of Hugh. She found him
questioning Ewain the blacksmith.

“You must come at once,” Mirielle said to
Hugh. “Donada is worse, and now Robin is sick, too.”

“Ah, that poor lady.” Ewain shook his head.
“When she was the seneschal’s wife, she was always polite to me and
my wife. That hasn’t changed, though she has fallen in rank since
Sir Paul died. I wish Mistress Donada well. Will you tell her so,
Lady Mirielle?”

“Of course I will.” Mirielle and Hugh left
the blacksmith’s shop, in their haste bumping against Mauger the
watchman, who was just entering.

“Watch where you’re going,” said Mauger in
his usual rude way.

“Now, there is a man I cannot like,” murmured
Hugh, turning around for a moment to look back at Mauger before
Mirielle hurried him along toward the inner bailey and the
keep.

They found Donada’s condition unimproved
since Mirielle had left her. During the remainder of that day and
into the night Donada grew steadily weaker, until she could no
longer swallow the medicine that Hugh and Mirielle offered, and
from time to time her thoughts wandered.

When Robin dropped off into a restless sleep,
Hugh took Warrick to the kitchen where, he told Mirielle, he would
insist that the boy eat of food that Hugh knew was safe. Hugh’s
silent implication that Warrick was also in danger of being
poisoned sent a chill through Mirielle.

“Mirielle,” Donada whispered hoarsely, “this
is no common illness. All your herbs, combined with Master Hugh’s
medicines, will not save me.”

“We will try everything we can,” Mirielle
said.

“This is the way that Baron Udo died.” Donada
rested a moment before speaking again. “And my dear Paul, too,
because he knew how Udo was killed and who did it. Poor Brice, what
will happen to him now?”

“Donada,” Mirielle cried, “what are you
saying?”

“I thought Brice was to blame,” Donada
whispered. “I tried to discover how he could have done it when he
was not yet here at Wroxley.”