his shirt loosened, his eyes bulging. I was relieved that this was Brother Edmund’s time to work in our infirmary, and not in the one he managed in Stanham, which was nearby.
“It hurts, Brother. Christ’s blood, it hurts.”
“Do not blaspheme,” Brother Edmund murmured. His fingers halted their exploration. “I will adjust your shoulder now. The pain will be sharp, but then it will ease. Prepare yourself.”
John made a wild sign of the cross with his one hand, the other dangling at his side. Just as he’d finished, Brother Edmund threw himself onto the man’s damaged shoulder, his black friar’s cape whipping into the air as he attacked.
“Brother, no!” I cried out. But I was unheard, drowned out by John’s agonized screech. He collapsed onto the pallet.
As Brother Edmund stepped back to straighten his robes, he spotted us standing in the corner.
“Sister Winifred is having another fit,” I said.
Brother Edmund hurried to his oak cabinet, a key gleaming in his hand. “Set her down anywhere,” he said over his shoulder.
I helped Sister Winifred, whose choking had settled into bursts of wheezing, onto another pallet. A tendril of blond hair hung down in her face, and I tucked it back under her novice cap.
“When did it begin?” Brother Edmund asked me as he briskly ground a dark plant in a bowl with mortar and pestle.
“Just ten minutes or so,” I said. “She was agitated, then began the choking.”
“What agitated her?” Brother Edmund stooped before the low fire with his bowl.
I told him of Sister Agatha’s laments over the future of the priory.
“I see.” He stopped grinding. “I am going to apply the remedy. Step away, Sister Joanna. It is best you do not inhale it as well.”
I backed into the corner, watching as he propped her up and placed the smoking bowl under her face. I had been in the infirmary last week when he administered the same remedy. He had brought many new medicines and potions—and new skills—to this position. Sister Rachel, a sharp-tongued nun, had been in charge of the infirmary when he arrived and was furious to be ousted. But even she had to admit that Brother Edmund was an apothecary to be respected. And it was a simple matter for him to move between the priory infirmary and the small one in town, skimpily attended since the death last year of Brother Matthew. Friars were accustomed to moving among outsiders. They were not monks or nuns, living in retreat from the world.
“Breathe,” he commanded. “Again. Again.”
Sister Winifred took a final deep breath and groped for his hand. “Thank you,” she moaned. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly, then eased her back down to rest. Seeing them together, I was struck by the siblings’ resemblance. The same brown eyes, pale eyelashes, and wide mouth with thin lips. But I also noticed that Brother Edmund did not look well today. His skin had a yellowish tint, and lines crinkled around his eyes.
I crept toward the smoldering bowl. “What is this cure?” I asked.
“Ephedra helvetica is a remedy, not a cure,” he said. “The leaf of a plant grown in Italy. A Swiss brother traveling to Cambridge had a supply for himself and told me of it. I send for it every six months. I’ll need a greater supply now. Dartford is not the best climate for Sister Winifred—there are so many marshes nearby—but there’s no help for that. So I must redouble my course of remedy.”
John stirred behind us. To my amazement, he smiled.
“Brother, it’s better, ye’re right,” he said. “When can I return to my work?”
“Do not lift or pull anything heavy for two weeks,” Brother Edmund said.
Jumping off the pallet, John said, “A one-armed stable hand is useless. The new porter is a hard man—he’ll dock my wages or even dismiss me. There are ten men in town that could take my place tomorrow. The priory is the best place to draw a wage. Could you speak for me? Please, Brother, I have a wife five months with child.”
He was beginning to babble. Brother Edmund held up his hand. “I can’t promise you anything, but I will put in a word.”
“Thank you, Brother,” John said fervently. “It was a good day for us when you came to Dartford.”
After John left, I said, “He shows you true gratitude.”
Brother Edmund sighed. “Just because I know of a few treatments, a few potions, doesn’t mean I can work miracles. There is very little that I can