Rhiannon Read Online Free PDF Page B

lacking wits, and several of all ages, men and women, so horribly hurt by animals or mischance that Rhia sometimes could scarce keep from turning her head or covering her nose when Mam sent her to their bedsides with food and drink. Each had been pulled up the trail on a carrying sledge or led by a waist rope, and each slept eternally now within the stone circle.
    â€œBut soon enough, I expect Jim may well return to his own home, now that he manages so well with his stick,” Rhia quickly pointed out. She added, with a defiant lift to her chin, “In fact, he was out some-wheres when I looked into his cot this very morn.”
    â€œOh, yes, of late Jim rambles the woods at night,” Granna allowed.
    Rhia, who thought she knew everything, had not known that. She blinked in surprise. “But . . . should he not fear walking our woods, and at night ?” she whispered.
    â€œIt’s Jim’s business where he wanders, Rhia, and none of our own. And I reckon Jim chooses dark night as he wishes no gawkers whilst he practices his hobbled gait.”
    But had Granna forgot there’d been murder done in the woods just last night? Rhia picked at an intricate knot of bristly hairs and mused that Granna was in most ways right—it was not, strictly speaking, her business where Jim rambled. But then again, so much was not her business that it ofttimes seemed truly annoying!
    She let it go, but with a peevish sigh. “Back to the other then, Granna. Does it not insult my mother for you to say that her patients are damned? Mam’s the best healer in all Lord Claredemont’s manor, mayhaps in all Wessex. She knows all manner of things about gathering the herbs of the forest for her decoctions and ointments. She can call the birds to herself as well!”
    â€œExactly so, Rhiannon,” Granna soberly agreed. “Being bird-descended, she can, and makes good use of the eggs they give in her calming salves. Mind now that you comb out that little fringe along me neck and catch it in the braid, as it tickles me mightily in my sleep if it’s left down to hang.”
    â€œShe uses the dropped feathers of our sister birds in grave wraps for too-early-born babes,” Rhia murmured as she tucked in those neck hairs. “In hard circumstances she’s used squabs to make a gruel for someone fevered, and the doves have not seemed to resent such frugal use of their young. They gladly help in her work with their sacrifice, and would never think her patients ‘damned.’ ”
    Rhia knew she’d pushed it with that last nervy statement. Granna stepped forward so’s her hair was jerked from Rhia’s grip, then turned to grip Rhia’s shoulders.
    â€œRhiannon, dear, now don’t be daft. Your mother’s work is not what damns her patients—far from it! Here’s the gist of the thing, then. In Woethersly these days they’ve grown so grand that they take pride in having naught to blemish their view nor cast a pall upon their light- heartedness. And so they send up to us whatever, who ever, might get in the way of that. We care for those misfortunates, then we safekeep them in our cemetery, and those below never even have to know when they’ve passed from this world to the next. Your mother’s good medicine is exceeded only by the goodness of her heart, but folks in town now turn away when she walks by as if she does the devil’s own work! No, dear girl, proud Woethersly won’t welcome back to their midst someone sent up our path, as t’would remind them of much they’ve decided they will never, ever think about again.”
    Rhia could only shake her head. “That . . . makes no sense,” she whispered.
    Spent from her strong riddling, Granna shuffled toward her stool. “No, dear Rhia, like much that humans feel, that makes little sense. Still, I reckon humans will go on feeling nonsense until the Almighty calls an end to