“But it’s so hard. Sometimes I feel so persecuted, and I don’t know why.”
“There’s much that we don’t understand, but in the end it will all make sense.”
Madlen couldn’t quite accept her explanation, but she was thankful that her aunt tried to encourage her.
“Let’s go.” Agathe pulled Madlen along as they strolled past the marketplace stalls. “We’ll go home, and I will teach you how to make a fine dress.”
Madlen smiled. She wondered whether Agathe had a painful experience sometime in her past. She had a feeling that something terrible had happened besides Agathe’s husband dying much too early. Still, she didn’t dare ask for fear of offending her or, even worse, making her dwell on a tragic event. But Madlen hoped that one of these days she would know what it was that made Agathe the thoughtful, loving woman she was today.
It had taken her two days to sew together the two pieces of linen that would make up her first dress. Madlen sewed every single seam with pride. Of course, she wasn’t as good as Agathe, but she would be one of these days.
“You should be very proud of yourself,” her aunt said in praise. “I’m sure that your customer will be very satisfied.”
“My customer?”
“Indeed. The dress has already been sold to a fine noblewoman. She chose the fabric weeks ago. And look what a fine job you did with the beadwork. A genuinely wonderful garment.”
“Thank you.” Overjoyed, Madlen hugged her aunt. “I’ll sew the seams on the next dress even straighter.”
“That’s right. Never be content with what you’ve already done. Always seek improvement with every stitch.”
“I can promise you that I will.”
Agathe smiled, but suddenly a coughing fit shook her body. Madlen patted her on the back. “Are you all right?” She looked on with concern.
“I’m all right,” her aunt uttered, though somewhat distressed. “It happens every now and again.” Agathe laid her hand on her chest. “Especially in the evening. My chest feels so heavy sometimes I can barely breathe.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“For quite a while. I don’t know exactly when it started.”
“Has it gotten worse?”
“Sometimes it’s worse and sometimes it’s better. But don’t worry. I’m not really that sick.”
Madlen felt her aunt’s forehead, a worried look on her face. “You’re burning up, Agathe. You should lie down.”
“Thank you, but I have too much to do right now. These dresses won’t finish themselves.”
“Will you allow me to put my ear on your chest?”
“I don’t see why, but yes.” Agathe spread out her arms and Madlen came closer, wrapping one arm around Agathe’s waist and putting her ear on her chest to listen. She stayed that way for a while, until Madlen sat back up again.
“Agathe, you need to lie down. I hear a strange sound when you breathe.”
Her aunt turned pale. “And what does that mean?”
“Something in your body is preventing you from breathing freely. We have to try and resolve it. How long did you say you’ve had this cough?”
“I think it started shortly before the harvest. It didn’t happen often at first, but now it’s more frequent.”
“I believe that you have some sort of infection.”
Agathe went weak at the knees. “Can something be done about it?”
“Yes, but we must take action right away. I’ll sew the dresses if you lie down. And Roswitha can take care of the herbs with my instructions.”
“I’ll send for her. What should she bring?”
“Above all, we’ll need frankincense.”
“Frankincense? We use that in church at High Mass.”
“There must be a way to get ahold of it. It will take care of the cough. And then we’ll need coltsfoot, a medicinal plant. Its flowers are yellow, and the leaves look like a horse’s hoof.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“You can find it near streams or brooks. It blooms in the spring.”
“But in winter you won’t be able to find it, right?” Agathe started coughing again.
Madlen made a decision. “I’m sending Roswitha to bring back some frankincense. I’ll take care of the coltsfoot myself. All you need to do is lie down. The cold winter air will only make your cough worse. Pull your blankets up to your neck to keep your chest warm.”
“All right.” Madlen accompanied Agathe upstairs to her bedchamber. “Tell me the truth. Am I going to die?”
Madlen looked at her seriously. It was hard to give an honest answer. “This is a very serious illness, even though it might not feel like it at the moment. Once the rattling sound starts in the chest, it usually gets worse very quickly.” She pressed her lips together. “But I know my medicinal herbs better than most people. I won’t let anything happen to you.”