“No. I’ve come for the boy.” Every day since she’d first seen him, Alethia had found him in the great hall whenever there was food left out. She was eager to begin teaching him signs, but she’d been hesitant to approach him until all was ready.
She caught his attention and signed a greeting, then held out her hand, a universal gesture. The child looked at the stable master, who nodded his assent. The child brought the bridle over to Harold and then came to her. Putting his hand in hers, he regarded her curiously. She gave him a reassuring smile, thanked the stable master and led him to the keep and his waiting bath.
Beth had everything ready by the time they arrived. Alethia took a seat on the wooden bench and positioned the boy between her knees. He rested a hand on each of her knees, while she checked his hairline behind the ears. As she feared, his matted hair was filled with nits and lice.
She’d taken off her gown and bound her own hair, covering it with a makeshift bandana. After his bath, she’d have Beth prepare one for her. She didn’t want to come away with any tiny hitchhikers herself.
She took the scissors from her basket and cut his hair close to his scalp, careful not to nick him. Once done, she gave his shoulders a squeeze and pointed to the tub filled for him. His eyes grew large with alarm. “Before you bathe, could you please do something with this hair, Beth? It’s full of lice.”
Without a word, Beth scooped up the pile and threw it into the fire under the cauldron heating the water. A bitter, acrid stench filled the room.
“I could’ve done that.” Alethia crossed the room and opened the shutter covering the single window.
“Aye, milady. Ye could have.”
Alethia laughed at her sullen tone. “Let me bathe him first. I’ll help you wash your hair once I’ve finished with the boy.” She led the child to the bath and helped him in.
“I dinna mind waitin’.”
“You sound like you’re going to your death. It’s only a bath.”
“Humph.”
Still laughing, she took up a scrap of linen and the soap. “Do you know his name?”
“Nay. I dinna know if anyone remembers, no’ even the lad himself. He was still a bairn when he lost his hearing, and just beginning to talk, as I recall. Name him as you will, milady. ’Tis fitting he should have a new name along with his new life.”
“How old is he?”
“Och, five, mayhap. I’m no’ certain.”
“I’ve been giving it some thought.” She smiled into his eyes. He studied her face intently as she washed his scalp and scrubbed his face, neck and behind his ears. “I think I’ll call him Hunter after my grandfather on my mother’s side. It’s a name that has been handed down from my mother’s side of the family for as far back as anyone can remember.”
“Hunter it is. ’Tis a good strong name, and one he’ll grow into with time.”
Alethia took a wooden bowl and rinsed his scalp, then touched his chest and signed his name to him. He watched, his features full of curiosity. He was smart as a whip and took everything in through those large gray eyes of his.
After scrubbing every inch of Hunter’s skinny body, she lifted him out and stood him before the wooden bench to rub him dry. Pleased with her efforts, she slipped the altered peasant shirt over his head and tied the laces. He fingered the fabric. “I don’t know how to do the wool. You’ll have to teach me.”
Beth pleated and wrapped the new wool around his body, fastening it with the belt Alethia handed her. They both stood back to admire their handiwork. Hunter felt the wool between his fingers. He looked up and gave them a heart-stopping grin.
How different he looked without the layers of grime. He had the face of an angel, and dimples appeared on each cheek when he smiled. His hair, what was left of it, was a soft golden brown. He’d break a few hearts for sure when he grew up. She sat him on the bench and signed for him to stay there.
“Your turn.” She grinned at Beth.
Behind the screen that separated the two tubs, Beth faced her demons. Undressing with more complaints, she sank down into the water with a curse or two in Gaelic. Alethia set to work on her second charge. “Would you make sure someone replaces the water and stokes the fire? I’ll want my own bath later this afternoon.”
“Aye, milady. There are lads whose job it is to see it done.”
Once they were in her room, Alethia led Hunter to the pine bed and signed that this was his place to sleep.
His eyes went large as he looked from the bed to her and back again. He pointed to himself and then placed a hand on the wooden frame.