In the morning, Count Lavastine and his army marched out, the count and his son at their head—and Lord Wichman and his unruly retinue with them. Gisela’s niece stood in the shadows and counted through a pouch filled with silver sceattas.
After the army vanished down the forest road, Matthias took Anna to see the herbwife. The old woman listened to their troubles and took a knife in exchange for her treatment: a noxious-smelling salve which she applied to Anna’s throat and a more palatable tea brewed of waybroad and spear-root which Matthias insisted on trying first. Anna gulped the remainder down dutifully, but the day passed with no change in her condition.
That evening, Matthias led Anna to Lord Wichman’s deacon, who had remained behind rather than ride into battle. A woman of noble birth, she eyed them with misgiving, as well she might considering their filthy condition and obvious look of common-born children seeking a boon.
“She can’t speak, good deacon,” said Matthias as he thrust Anna forward.
“Many’s the child too weak or slow-witted to speak,” said the deacon patiently. “Or has caught a sickness, although that’s more common in wintertime. Or she may have taken a blow to the head in one of the skirmishes.”
“Nay, good deacon.” Matthias was nothing if not persistent. Otherwise, they would never have survived Gent. “She spoke as good as me until yesterday.”
“Go see the herbwife, then.”
“We’ve done so already.”
“Then it’s in God’s hands.” A mute child among so many who were injured in countless ways was of little concern to the deacon, good woman though she was. She prayed over Anna, touched her on the head, and indicated she should move on.
“Do not go yet, child,” she said to Matthias, who had moved away with Anna. “I remember you. You were sore wounded by the Eika, were you not? I came to pray last rites over you some months ago, but you survived by God’s mercy, and indeed I thought you must live out the rest of your days as a cripple. I see that God have healed you in the meantime. It is a blessing we must all be thankful for, that some have escaped this terrible time with whole bodies and strong minds.”
Anna had been so terrified at losing her voice that she had scarcely had time to notice Matthias. He had been so busy fussing over her that he had taken no notice of himself. But like the sun rising, the light dawned on her now: Matthias wasn’t limping.