The Secret Healer(44)

“Right before you came, she had another violent coughing fit,” Roswitha whispered.

Madlen nodded. “Agathe, can you sit up a little so that you can drink?” She held out her cup of herbal brew.

“That’s so nice of you both. Thank you.” Agathe tried to smile. It was plain to see the coughing spasms had worn her out. With a push, she sat up in bed. Madlen perched next to her and handed her the brew. “It’s hot, so drink it in very small sips. It’ll cure your cough.” Agathe took the drink and immediately began to sip it.

Roswitha left the room briefly then returned with a bowl; it was filled with burning frankincense. She put the vessel next to Agathe’s bed and fanned the incense lightly with her hand.

Madlen waited until Agathe emptied the cup and handed it immediately to Roswitha so she could fill it up again with the herbal brew.

“More?” Agathe asked as she sighed.

“Yes, much more,” Madlen confirmed. “We need to loosen the cough and get the sickness out of your body.” She pulled out a cloth smeared with an herbal paste. “I’ll put this on your chest. Breathe deeply, in and out, until you’re dizzy. I’ll sit here and watch your body. When you get too hot, we’ll lay some cold wraps around your calves. It won’t be pleasant, but it will help you get better.”

Agathe smiled, but worry was written all over her face.

“I know what I’m doing, and I’m going to help you.” Madlen touched Agathe’s hand. She couldn’t say where she found the courage of her conviction but felt it was the truth.

Madlen nursed Agathe late into the night. Even when she wanted to use the outhouse, Madlen insisted that Agathe use a bucket so she wouldn’t have to leave the protective warmth of the room. Roswitha went numerous times to conjure up some fresh brew and to fill up and light the small bowl of frankincense. When it got very late, Madlen noticed that Roswitha seemed about to drop dead from fatigue; she was able to finally persuade her to go to bed. Madlen remained by Agathe’s side, constantly monitoring her care and wondering why she herself didn’t feel the least bit tired. Instead, she wrapped Agathe’s chest again with renewed energy, made sure that her body was warm enough, and supported Agathe when she was overwhelmed by a coughing fit or needed to drink more herbal brew, even though it made her throw up. She’d already vomited twice, and Madlen noticed with satisfaction that the vomit as well as the bile had a pungent odor, typical of infection.

“Your body is ridding itself of toxins,” Madlen said as she helped Agathe sit up again in bed. “That’s a good sign.”

“How long do we have to keep on doing this?” Agathe said, glassy-eyed.

“I’m going to make another herbal compress for your chest, and then you should try to sleep. Tomorrow morning, we’ll see if you feel better. But you’ll need to stay in bed for a couple of days.” She expected her aunt to protest, but she didn’t. Whether she was simply too weak to protest, Madlen didn’t know for sure. She was pleased to hear Agathe breathing steadily again, though she was still wheezing. Still, it was too much to ask for an immediate improvement. Diseases took time to come into the body; they needed time to leave it, too. That’s what Clara had always said. In the end, everything was in God’s hands. The herbs would help if it was God’s will. Madlen was confident. Agathe’s body had responded well to the treatments so far.

As her aunt slept peacefully, Madlen had the feeling that everything would be all right. Madlen touched Agathe’s body again and again to make sure the fever didn’t get too high. She stayed on guard till morning. Finally, Roswitha came and announced that Madlen should sleep for a couple of hours and that she would watch over Agathe. Should things start to take a turn for the worse, Roswitha promised that she would get Madlen right away. And even though she thought she didn’t need rest, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Again and again, she woke and listened nervously for noise coming out of Agathe’s bedchamber. Anything to indicate that Madlen was needed. But everything remained quiet. Even though she wasn’t completely relaxed, at least she got a little sleep. Three hours later, she awoke to a gentle touch on her arm.

“Maria? Can you come?”

“What is it? Is she worse?” She opened her eyes, her heart beating in her throat.

“I don’t know. She’s complaining about terrible pains.”

“I’m coming.” Madlen sprang up and followed Roswitha to Agathe’s bedchamber. She hurried to her aunt’s bed and laid her hand on Agathe’s forehead. “How are you?”