Partially finished chairs, cinched tightly together in twisted ropes as they were being finished, or drying in peg-and-wedge clamps, sat about the floor. A carving horse where the grandfather had been when they came into the yard held a split billet of ash he had been working with a drawknife.

Clive, a broad-shouldered young man, seemed content to let his father do the talking. "What's ailing these children?" Erling asked Drefan. Drefan cleared his throat but let Richard answer. Richard was so tired he could hardly stand anymore. He almost felt as if he were asleep, and this was just a bad dream. "The plague. I'm relieved to see that Darby, here, is well." Erling's scruffy jaw dropped. "Dear spirits spare us!" Clive turned white. "My daughters are sick."

He turned suddenly and ran for the stairs, but stopped abruptly. "Please, master Drefan, will you see them?" "Of course. Show the way."

Upstairs, Darby's mother, grandmother, and aunt had been making meat pies. Turnips were boiling in a pot hung in the hearth, and the boiling water had steamed the windows over.

The three women, alarmed by Clive's calls, were waiting wide-eyed in the center of the upstairs common room. They were shocked by the sight of the strangers, but bowed the instant they saw Kahlan's white dress. Kahlan, in the dress of the Mother Confessor, needed no introduction to anyone in Aydindril, or most of the Midlands, for that matter.

"Hattie, this man here, master Drefan, is a healer, and has come to see the girls." Hattie, her short, sandy-colored hair tied back with a head wrap, wiped her hands on her apron. Her gaze darted among all the people standing in her home. "Thank you. This way, please."

"How do they fare?" Drefan asked Hattie on their way back to the bedroom. "Beth has complained since yesterday of her head hurting," Hattie said. "She was sick at her stomach, earlier. Common children ailments, that's all." It sounded to Richard more like a plea than a statement of fact. "I gave her some black horehound tea to settle her."

"That's good," Nadine assured her. "An infusion made of pennyroyal might help, too. I have some with me I'll leave in case she needs it."

"Thank you for the kindness," Hattie said, her concern growing with each step she took.

"What of the other girl?" Drefan asked.

Hattie had almost reached the doorway. "Lily's not so sick, but just feeling out of sorts. I suspect she's just looking for sympathy because her older sister is getting attention and honey tea. That's the way of children. She has some little, round sores on her legs." Drefan missed a step.

Beth was fevered, but not gravely so. She had a wet cough, and complained that her head hurt. Drefan all but ignored her. He watched Lily, in that analytical way of his, as she sat in her blankets, carrying on an earnest conversation with her rag doll.

The grandmother fussed with her collar and watched from the doorway as Hattie fussed with Beth's covers. The aunt mopped Beth's brow with a wet cloth while Nadine spoke words of comfort to the girl. Nadine really did have a soothing, kind way about her. She selected herbs from leather pouches in her bag and wrapped them up in several cloth packets, giving the intent, nodding mother instructions.

Richard and Kahlan moved with Drefan over to the younger girl. Kahlan squatted down and talked to her, telling her what a lovely doll she had, so as to keep her from being frightened by Richard and Drefan. Lily cast worried looks in their direction as she chattered with Kahlan. Kahlan hugged an arm around Richard's waist to show Lily that he wasn't anyone to be afraid of. Richard made himself smile. "Lily," Drefan said with forced cheerfulness, "could you show me your doll's sores?" Lily held the doll upside down and pointed out spots on the inside of the doll's thighs. "She has ouches here, and here, and here." Her big, round eyes turned up to Drefan. "And do they hurt her?" Lily nodded. "She goes 'ouch' when I touch them."

"Really? Well, that's too bad. I'll bet she's better, soon, though." He squatted down so that he wasn't towering over her, circling an arm around Kahlan's waist and pulling her back down with him. "Lily, this is my friend, Kahlan. Her eyes aren't so good. She can't see the sores on your doll's legs. Could you show Kahlan here the ones on your legs?"

Nadine was still talking to the mother about the other girl. Lily glanced in their direction.

Kahlan brushed Lily's hair back and told her what a pretty doll she had. Lily grinned. She was fascinated by Kahlan's long hair. Kahlan let her feel it. "Can you show me the ouches on your legs?" Kahlan asked. Lily hiked up her white nightdress. "Here they are, just like my doll's ouches." She had several dark spots, the size of pennies, on the inside of each thigh. Richard could tell when Drefan gently touched them that they were hard as calluses. Kahlan straightened Lily's nightdress back down and drew the blanket back over her lap as Drefan patted her cheek, telling her what a good girl she was, and that her doll's ouches would be better by morning. "I'm glad." Lily said. "She doesn't like them."

Erling was absently planing a chair seat at the workbench. Richard could see that he wasn't paying any attention to what he was doing, and was ruining it. He didn't look up when they came down the stairs. At Richard's urging. Clive had stayed upstairs with his wife and daughters. "Do they have it?" Erling asked in a hoarse voice.

Drefan laid a comforting hand on the old man's shoulders. "I'm afraid so." Erling took a shaky, crooked stroke with his plane.

"When I was young, I lived in the town of Sparlville. The plague came one summer. It took a good many people. I hoped never to see such a thing again." "I understand," Drefan said in a soft voice. "I, too, have seen it visit places." "They're my only granddaughters. What can we do to help them?" "You can try to smoke the house," Drefan offered.

Erling grunted. "We did that in Sparlville. Bought cures and preventatives, too, but people died just the same."

"I know," Drefan said. "I wish there was something I could do, but I've never heard of a sure cure. If you know of anything that you think helped when you were young, then try it. I don't know of all the treatments, by any means. At worst, it could do no harm, and at best may help."

Erling set the plane aside. "Some folk burned fires hot that summer, trying to drive the sickness from their blood. Some said it was because their blood was too hot already with the high summer heat and with the fever on top of that, and tried to fan their loved ones to cool their blood. Which would you advise?"

Drefan shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I just don't know. I've heard of people recovering when each was tried, and I've heard of people dying just the same with each. Some things are out of our hands. No one can stay the Keeper's hand when he comes."

Erling rubbed his scruffy chin. "I'll pray that the good spirits spare the girls." His voice caught. "They're too good, too innocent, for the Keeper to touch them just yet. They've brought untold joy to this house and family."

Drefan returned his hand to Erling's shoulder. "I'm sorry, master Anderson, but Lily has the tokens upon her." Erling gasped and gripped the bench. Drefan had been ready and caught him under his arms to keep him from falling when his knees gave out. Drefan helped him to sit on the carving horse.

Kahlan turned her face away and put it to Richard's shoulder when Erling covered his tears with both hands. Richard felt numb. "Grandpa," Darby called from the steps, "what's wrong?" Erling straightened. "Nothing, boy. I'm just worried about your sisters, that's all. Old men get foolish, that's all."

Darby eased the rest of the way down the stairs. "Yonick, I'm real sorry about Kip. If your pa needs anything. I'm sure my pa would let me leave my work and go help."