The Secret Healer(46)

“You haven’t just helped me,” Agathe stated. “You’ve saved my life. I’ll never ever be able to repay you.”

Madlen hugged her aunt again. “Oh, Agathe, you’ve already repaid me many times over.”





Chapter Fourteen





Agathe stayed in bed for two more days, able to use the chamber pot by herself and continue working on a dress she’d started before she became ill. Madlen kept her company. The women were chatting when Roswitha came back from the market and stormed into Agathe’s bedchamber.

“You’re not the only one!” she said, completely out of breath.

Agathe put down the dress. Both she and Madlen seemed puzzled as they gazed at Roswitha.

“What do you mean?”

“I was at the market. All of Worms is abuzz. There’s a very severe cough going around.” She pressed her lips together. “Several people have already died.”

“What?” Agathe’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

“Yes, people don’t know what to do. They’re keeping their distance from each other for fear of infection. Even physicians don’t have a remedy for it. I heard many say that it’s a punishment from God.”

“Sit down, please,” Madlen said as she stood and offered Roswitha her chair. “Take a deep breath and tell us again—this time calmly.”

Roswitha gratefully settled down with a loud sigh. Madlen sat down on the edge of Agathe’s bed. They looked at Roswitha tensely; she took a moment before continuing. “I didn’t tell anybody that you also had a cough,” the maid quickly assured them. “But from what I heard, it always starts with a cough, then they bring up phlegm, and finally their chests constrict more and more, until they suffocate and die.”

“But I’m not dead. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“When so many are infected, it’s not just a cough,” said Madlen thoughtfully. “Agathe, you said that you noticed your cough sometime shortly after harvest?”

“Yes.”

Madlen studied her. “It was probably just a slight cough, which is fairly common. But what you suffered over the last several days must have been new.”

“Can’t you help these people? You were able to do it with my mistress here.”

Madlen was about to speak when Agathe held up her hand. “Maria is not a physician. How do you think a doctor would react when a young woman familiar only with the use of medicinal herbs is able to heal those he cannot?”

Roswitha lowered her head. “But won’t people die if the doctor refuses to use the herbal remedies?”

“Roswitha’s right. I have to do something.”

Agathe raised her eyebrows as she gazed at Madlen. “Many years before you were born, I had a dear friend. She also practiced the art of herbal medicine and helped many with their female problems.”

Madlen gulped. She knew where Agathe was going with this.

“One day,” Agathe went on, “someone begged my friend for help. She did everything she could to save the woman, but in the end, she couldn’t. They blamed my friend for her death. If she hadn’t fled, she would have been hanged.”

Roswitha put her hands up to her mouth in horror. “That’s terrible. Whatever happened to her?”

Agathe kept her eyes on Madlen as she answered Roswitha’s question. “She had to be clever; now she leads a totally different life. As far as most know, she’s probably dead.”

Madlen nodded, almost imperceptibly. She understood her aunt’s warning; she could not make the same mistake twice. “Agathe’s right. It wouldn’t be smart to get mixed up in this. And I likely wouldn’t be able to help anyway. It was God’s will that my herbs were able to cure Agathe.”

Her aunt seemed relieved. “So that settles it. We’ll pray for the sick and let the doctor help them.”

“We can’t do anything at all?” Roswitha kneaded her hands. “There are so many I know who are ill.”

“Let’s allow the doctor to do his job. I’m sure it will be fine,” Agathe said, trying to calm the maid.

Tears welled up in Roswitha’s eyes. “Sander is sick. I talked with Mechthild, his sister. She doesn’t think he can be helped.”

Madlen searched the maid’s face. “You love this Sander?”

Roswitha nodded and covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief as she tried to suppress her sobs.

Madlen looked at Agathe earnestly. “What if I don’t go myself, just prepare brew and compresses for Roswitha to take care of this Sander herself?”

Roswitha looked up and threw her mistress a desperate look.