Stefan was beside himself with worry. Something made him fear if he was not with Kannak and quickly, she might die the way his mother died in his father's absence. She and Jirvel were all he had and he had come to love them both. Once Jirvel was on the horse and headed for the village, he made sure the fire was cold, grabbed his extra clothing, stuffed them in a cloth sack and slung it over his shoulder. Then he took the cow to William and started the long walk to the village. He could have borrowed a horse, he knew, but he did not want to take the time to return it. Once he was there, all he wanted to do was stay with Kannak. Soon he was running more often than walking. Still, it seemed to take forever.

The elder's cabin was much the same as Jirvel's except it had no second room. Nevertheless, the one room was large enough for all three of them to have a bed and by the time he got there, Macoran had already moved two more in. It left little room for the table and chairs, but that was the least of their concerns.

Stefan dropped his sack near the door, knelt down beside Kannak's bed and touched her cheek. It was still very hot. "How does she do?" he whispered.

Jirvel put her hand on his shoulder. "She sleeps finally and I doubt she can hear us." She pointed to the array of bottles and small sacks on the table. "Macoran brings every kind o' potion and remedy he can find and enters without knocking. But we must take care not to give her too much even if he insists. He may be our laird, but he knows nothing o' helping the sick."

"Nor do I."

"Then 'tis time ye learn. I must go out. If she moans, hold her hand. It seems to comfort her." She waited for his nod and then slipped out the door.

Stefan got up, moved a chair next to Kannak's bed and sat down. She looked so vulnerable and so very ill. He again touched her cheek, but it was just as hot and there was nothing he could do. When she suddenly opened her eyes, she looked disoriented and frightened. Instinctively, he took her hand and when she finally focused on his face and recognized him, she tried to smile. "Sleep, wee bairn, sleep." She lightly squeezed his hand and closed her eyes.

But he did not let go of her hand. He remembered how affectionate his aunt and uncle were and realized he missed it. They constantly hugged him and even when he got older and protested, they continued to often muss his hair or pat his back. If Kannak were well, perhaps he would not be so bold, but just now all he had to give her was his affection and perhaps somehow it would help.




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