The Paladin and The Healer

She shrugged again. "Metta, the woman who trained me, always said I was a better cook than a healer. I am glad you like it, but do not drink too much, I do not want to clean it up off my floor."

"Yes, my lady."

She sniffed again, but he thought he saw a ghost of a smile. She stood to busy herself, filling another kettle which she hung over the fire, mixing several plants and herbs together into a cup. When the water boiled she poured it into the cup and set it beside the cot to steep.

"Is that the unpleasant tea you promised?"

She pressed her palm to his forehead and frowned. "Yes, you will find the taste is not unlike the taste of dirt, but less appetizing. Drink it all. Have you had enough broth?"

"Yes, thank you." He returned the mug to her, still half full she noted, and picked up the cup. He took a deep breath and downed the entire mess in two or three big gulps. Best to get it over with.

He grimaced, "It was even less pleasant than you said."

"Yes, and now I think you need to lay down again." Mary saw that he was swaying a bit and his eyes were losing focus again. An effect of the tea and his wound. She carefully helped him stretch out again, then brushed the hair back from his face.

He smiled softly. "Thank you for taking such good care of me, Healer Mary. I am in your debt."

"I do as my goddess bids, Lucas. Sleep, I will be near."

She watched as his eyelids drooped lower, until his vibrant green eyes were closed. She touched his face again and did not like what she felt. He was certainly developing a fever. This could be very bad. Had the bolt been poisoned?

She stepped outside and the big gray horse came trotting over to nudge her gently. She reached up to scratch his ears gently and when he rested his head on her shoulder she pressed her cheek against his.

"It is what I feared, big one, he is becoming feverish. It was becoming worse as I talked with him."

The animal gave that soft nicker as though he heard and understood.

"I am worried. If the bolt was poisoned I am not sure what would be required. If it is poison and I treat only for infection he will die. But what poison and how to treat it? Goddess give me wisdom."

The big head was lifted off her shoulder and pressed to her chest between her breasts, as though the animal was offering comfort. She hugged him hard.

"I will do what I can, big one. If a horse can pray, then please pray. Pray for him and for me."

He nudged her back toward the door.

"Yes, I must return to him, there is much I must do. It is time for me to stop being weak."

The beautiful animal lipped gently at her cheek and she smiled. The smile lit her homely face and for that moment she was stunning. Then she turned, all serious again, and went back into the cottage.

For Lucas it was an unknown time of many sensations; cold, heat, sweat, pain, cool damp, gentle hands, foul tastes and the murmur of soothing words. All broken by periods of fitful sleep that did not restore. It went on for what felt like an eternity.

Lucas opened his eyes and looked around, for the first time in too long he knew that he was looking around and recognizing what he saw.

The cottage. He was still on the cot, the fireplace was to his right, the embers glowing and banked for the night. The shutters on the windows were closed, but he could see that it was dark out. Very dark and very quiet. His left shoulder still hurt abominably. There was a pressure on his chest, although he breathed without difficulty.

The pressure came from Mary. She sat on her stool beside the cot, leaning forward with her head on his chest. Her arms were stretched out over his chest and dangled limply against his side. She was deeply asleep with her mouth open and drooling on his chest. If she had been on her back she would have been snoring. It was endearing. A strand of hair had escaped from her braid and curled across her face. He brushed it back behind her ear gently.

How could he have ever thought her homely? She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. In that moment he loved her without limit.

He brushed her cheek with gentle fingers. "Mary? Wake up. You should sleep in a bed, yes?"

Her eyes snapped open and her mouth snapped closed. "What? What? You are awake?"

"Yes, I am. Why are you sleeping on my chest instead of your own bed?" He continued to stroke her cheek tenderly. She did not seem to notice. Her skin was warm and so soft under his fingers.

She reached out to cup his face in both hands and her shoulders fell with relief. She lowered her head to rest her forehead on his chest. "Goddess be praised, your fever has finally broken. Sweet Goddess of infinite love, thank you."

"I developed the fever as you feared?"

"Yes, and so much worse. You have burned with it for three days, I feared for you. I thought you were dying."

"And in all that time you have not left my side, have you? You have not slept or eaten."

She shook her head. "I could not, it took all of my skill to keep life in your body." She raised her head to look down at him, and he saw a tentative smile. Then she frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You are so beautiful I cannot look away."

She was startled for a moment, no one had ever... She scoffed. He was not healed and the room was very dark. "Do not be foolish. Do you need anything? Are you hungry?"

"No, not yet. I am very tired still. Perhaps a drink of water? If it is not too much trouble."

"Of course not, give me a moment."

She rose to fill a large cup from a pitcher. He watched her, feeling bemused. She came back and helped him sit and steadied him with competent hands as he drank deeply. When he drank his fill she lowered him back down. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek again. She could feel the callouses against her cheek as he touched her tenderly. What had gotten into the man?

"You must rest now, Mary. You have done all that anyone could ask and more. Please, get some sleep."

She shook her head. "I will sleep later, I must keep awake to be sure your fever does not return. You are not healed, Lucas. You are much improved, but you are not healed."

He smiled at her. "And if I promise not to slip away while you catch a few hours sleep in your own bed?" At the shake of her head he whispered, "No? Are all healers so stubborn? Look, if you will not sleep in your own bed, will you favor me and sleep with me here? It is not large, but we can put aside our embarrassment long enough for you to sleep for a few hours, yes? For me?"

Mary was not embarrassed.

For three days and most of three nights she had been no more than feet from him, most of the time had been spent touching him. Holding him as she tried to help him drink the medicinal brews that she had made, or helping him drink the broth that sustained him, re-wrapping the bandages on his dreadful wound to keep the poultice fresh, bathing the sweat from his brow and chest as he thrashed, bathing the rest of his body when it was needed.

His body, so strong and beautiful. As she had been taught she tried to maintain a clinical detachment, but it had not always been perfectly successful. Touching him was a delight. Looking at him was a joy.

And now he was awake, on the mend, and drinking in her features with eyes that glowed with the pleasure of seeing her.

No one had ever looked at her that way. No one. Ever.

His expression made her feel beautiful and very nervous.

Metta had loved her, Mary knew. But Metta had been a old woman. This was no old woman, this was a strong and handsome man, gentle, naked. Staring at Mary with eyes that...

Mary was not embarrassed. Mary was deeply and completely aroused. The idea of laying with him terrified her. Not because she feared for her virtue, her virtue was of no importance to her. But because she was afraid he would see her face clearly and turn away in disgust. She had never desired any man as much as she desired him. Never had she wanted to please a man as much as she wished to please him. And it would never happen.

It must not happen. It would be wrong. To feel his body against hers through the thin shift that was all she wore was too much temptation. She must not. Beloved Goddess, forgive me for the impure thoughts I am having about your warrior. Grant me strength to resist this temptation.

Memories of his manhood came unbidden to her mind. She was a maiden, but she was a healer and she knew about the human form. Many married women she knew thought the male member was ugly, and would only accept it within them because it brought them children.

Mary was not so naive. She thought the male form pleasant. She thought his form beautiful. She thought his manhood beautiful.

She must not. Must not. Would not.

Lucas waited patiently for a few seconds, then lifted the blanket and repeated, "Please?"

She nodded and slipped under the blanket with him. It took them a few seconds to find a way to lay together, but eventually they found that if he moved over to the far side (a gasp of pain as he shifted) and lay flat on his back, she could curl up against his side and slip her arm around his waist. She hoped he did not feel the way her hand stroked his taught stomach as she reached out.

Lucas put his arm around her shoulder and let her pillow her head on his chest. He tried to ignore how entrancingly her body curved under the blanket, how delicious she felt against him.

"Comfortable?" he asked and she murmured a soft reply of assent.

Lucas was not comfortable. His shoulder ached. The cot was too small, the thin straw mattress did nothing to soften the ropes that supported it. The uneven legs rocked whenever either of them moved.

He ran his hand down her back and felt the warmth of her skin through her shift.

He hoped she would never move away.

He closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds.

It was late morning before they woke.

Mary woke first, jerking her head up in surprise as though not sure where she was. The movement woke Lucas and he watched her with a fond smile.

"Good morning," he said when she reached for his forehead.

"Good morning, how do you feel?"

"Much better, thank you. I think I am hungry for some real food."

"That is an excellent sign, although I think broth for now and a good deal of water."

"Water mixed with more dirt, no doubt."

"Unfortunately, yes, for a few more days at least. Will you excuse me while I visit the privy? I can help you when I get back."

"I can make it on my own."

"And fall flat on your face? I think not. I will be back in a moment. Do not attempt to stand."

She hurriedly rose and went into her bedroom to fetch a thick robe. Lucas drank in the sight of her lush body as she stood and moved away. The shift fell only to her mid-thigh, and had bunched up during the night. Her legs were deliciously shaped. Her waist was slender and her hips flared out invitingly. He hoped she did not see the disappointment on his face as she pulled the robe around herself. She slipped out the back door and he heard her speaking to Ironhoof soothingly.

She returned in a few minutes and helped him to slowly get to his feet. She was right, without her help he would have collapsed. His knees felt altogether too uncertain. He pulled the blanket around himself modestly. Mary tried to push down the disappointment she felt when he covered himself. Then she tried to push down even harder her annoyance at her own disappointment. Goddess, what is happening to me?

She held his right arm firmly and kept her own arm around his waist as he walked, Ironhoof walked beside him on the other side.

He was panting and sweating when they returned and she helped him return to the cot. She had wanted to change the linens but he could not wait. Perhaps later, or the next morning. After he was comfortable again she busied herself building up the fire and the other household chores that the day and his condition required.

After he had finished a large mug of broth and a cup of medicinal tea he smiled at her. "I am going to close my eyes for a few minutes. I know that you are hungry, so please make yourself a good breakfast, and do not worry about me for a time."

Mary was on her second meal before Lucas opened his eyes again. She was not surprised, he was not healed although she thought he was out of danger for now. She would be diligent with him and make certain he let her take care of him. She spent the time that he was napping getting herself clean and dressed. She needed a bath but with the cot in front of the hearth there was no room for the small tub. It would have to wait a few days, or she could go to the stream across the market road and have a cold bath. She was not bathing in front of him. She was not. She wanted too so much. She had seen him watching her, she had felt his eyes on her. The desire his look raised was shaming. To combat the feeling she had donned her thickest winter dress, and wore her boots inside the house. She was not sleeping in the cot with him again. She was not. Goddess please, give me strength to resist.

Lucas woke and found Mary sitting beside the cot watching his face. Automatically her hand came up to stroke his forehead. "This is a pleasant sight to wake up to."

"Hush, you think I do not own a mirror? How do you feel?"

"Surprisingly good, in fact. How long have I been asleep?"

"Hours. I ate breakfast and lunch and did a few chores."

"I admit that either breakfast or lunch would appeal to me at this point."

"Good. Because you have been so cooperative and uncomplaining I will allow you to have a bit of bread with your broth."

"If I must live on broth much longer I will no longer be uncomplaining." Lucas groused in a good-natured way, but the chance for a piece of bread actually thrilled him. Mary helped him to sit up and offered a much larger bowl along with a good sized slice of bread. He devoured it all to her satisfaction.

After eating she asked, "Are you feeling strong enough to sit by the hearth for a moment? These linens should be changed."

"Yes, certainly. I apologize for being such an inconvenience for you."

She scoffed. "Hush. This is still more pleasant than what I was expecting before you arrived."

She helped him get situated leaning comfortably against the warm stones of the hearth and remade his small bed with efficient hands. Once done he asked if he could stay where he was for a time, it felt good to be sitting for a change. She was very pleased to hear it, his color was better too and his eyes much more clear. She asked about the pain and he said it was manageable. He stretched out his legs and wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself, she sat with him on the other side of the fire.

"Do you do all of your own cooking?"

"Most of it, yes. I do not have an oven so I cannot make bread, but the village supplies me with what I need in return for my healing services. In fact, there should be a boy along in a day or two with more food. Oh, that reminds me. I was unable to do anything with your chain mail, of course, but the smithy in town could perhaps do something. I will send it into town with the boy and we will see."

"Are you always so practical?"

"A healer must be."

"Do all healers serve the Goddess?"

"Yes, in her aspect as Mother, the provider of comfort and health."

He nodded. "Paladins serve her as well, in her aspect as Judge, the balance of good and evil."

"Not Warrior?"

"No, we are not always fighters, our first duty is to protect good. That does not always require fighting, sometimes words are enough."

"Did you always know that you would be a paladin?"

"Always, I grew up at the Citadel. My father was a paladin." He motioned to his sword, standing propped in the corner, "That was my father's sword."

"Your father? A paladin? How could that be?"

He smiled. "We serve the Goddess, but we are not priests. Paladins are not expected to be chaste, they can marry and raise a family. But it takes a special kind of woman to accept that she or their family must come after duty to the Goddess."

"I did not know that." Mary's heart began to pound. No, no, stop it. She could hear Metta in her mind, stop acting like a child, you silly girl.

"Many people believe that myth. Is the same true of healers?"

"We are not required to remain pure, but we seldom marry. It is not unheard of, but rare." Lucas glanced at her, then looked away speculating in his mind.

"How long have you lived here?"

"Almost 15 years. Metta, the healer who trained me, lived here most of her life. I grew up in the village and when I was 15 years old I asked to be her apprentice and she accepted. I trained with her over 10 years before she passed away."

"Is that her grave that I saw?"

"Yes, she loved that big oak tree and always wanted to be buried under it. She said it was the most perfect example of the Goddess' love she had ever seen."

"You must miss her very much."

"I do. She was gruff and stern. She would rap my knuckles with a wooden spoon when I made a mistake or I was being foolish. She would pour cold water on me if I over slept. And I loved her with all my heart."

"The arms master at the Citadel used to make his point in a much more painful way. But it got his point across very clearly. I cannot say that I loved him, but what he taught me has kept me alive and mostly intact."

"That reminds me, I saw a cut on your side. It was not deep, but it looked fresh. What was that from?"

"There were originally 5 in the group I was chasing. One of them held back and ambushed me. I was clumsy, not paying attention. Fortunately when he dropped on me from the tree Ironhoof reared and threw him off, so I was able to draw my sword and finish him."

"Then the three here, what happened to the last?"

"He died of his wounds. I had nothing to do with that."

"What were they running away from that you had to chase them?"

"They were part of a larger group that had been terrorizing several of the villages on the north side of the forest under the direction of a dark wizard. My call led me there and I was able to bring together enough men to deal with it. There were 20 of them in the band, these 5 were all that escaped our initial attack. I was the only one mounted so I pursued."

"Is that what the life of a paladin is? Journey and fighting the dark?"

"Not always. Occasionally people only need reminding of the light, or we sometimes serve as judges. It depends on the need."

"There are so many things that are not known about paladins."

"Well, I must admit that we encourage an air of mystery. It provides us with certain advantages."

They were interrupted by Ironhoof's big head being pushed into the room through the window. He gave a soft, pleased whicker when he saw Lucas sitting up.

"I see your manners have not improved, big one. Did you think I had eaten him?" Mary called.

The horse gave his low, chuckle sounding nicker as Mary advanced on him and scratched him under the jaw.

"Go on now, he is still too weak to come outside. Perhaps in a day or two. Leave him in my care for a while longer." The big head was withdrawn.

"He listens to you better than he ever listened to me. You must tell me your secret."

"He is a fine animal, and very beautiful."

"Yes, and he has saved my life many times. I am lucky to have him with me."

Lucas shifted too quickly and Mary saw the wince of pain.

"How is your shoulder?"

"It aches and throbs occasionally, but it is not too bad."

"I am sorry, I wish there was more I could do. I could mix you another tea."

"No thank you, I do not wish to be befuddled all the time. Perhaps tonight if I cannot sleep."

"Good, I would prefer that you not depend on the tea unless you must. You are a bit pale, do you need to lay down again?"