Brother Aris folded the parchment and handed it to her. "The isolation is crucial. This strain of the cold is highly contagious when the coughing is this severe. Keep him in a separate room, ensure he drinks plenty of fluids, and absolutely forbid him from engaging in any physical labor."
"I will personally lock his door from the outside if I have to," Rebecca promised, taking the prescription with a firm nod.
Lencar slowly, unsteadily pushed himself up into a sitting position on the edge of the cot. He leaned heavily on the wooden walking stick Rebecca had provided earlier.
"Thank you... for your time, Brother Aris," Lencar rasped, allowing a small tremor to enter his voice. He reached into his pocket with a shaking hand, retrieving a few silver coins and placing them on the bedside table to cover the customary donation for the church's healing services.
"Keep your strength, young man. And listen to your friend here," Brother Aris advised, patting Lencar gently on the shoulder.
Rebecca moved to Lencar's side, wrapping her arm securely around his waist and hoisting him to his feet. Together, they slowly navigated their way out of the quiet rectory, offering their final thanks to Sister Theresa as they stepped back out into the bustling morning streets of Nairn.
The air was still cool, the puddles from the previous day's rain reflecting the busy traffic of the town. Lencar kept his head bowed, leaning on the stick, focusing entirely on maintaining the slow, agonizing shuffle of a sick man.
Their next destination was located on the far side of the market square. It was a narrow, slightly crooked building squeezed between a leatherworker's shop and a bustling bakery. The wooden sign hanging above the door depicted a mortar and pestle, completely overgrown with painted green ivy.
This was the domain of Madam Verna, the only dedicated herbalist and apothecary in Nairn.
Rebecca pushed the heavy wooden door open, triggering a melodic cluster of brass bells hanging from the frame.
The interior of the shop was an absolute assault on the senses. The air was overwhelmingly thick with the sharp, pungent aromas of dried peppermint, crushed eucalyptus, bitter roots, and sweet, floral elixirs. Bundles of dried herbs hung like strange stalactites from the dark wooden rafters, and every available inch of wall space was covered in shelves packed with colorful glass bottles, clay jars, and small wooden boxes.
Standing behind the main counter, vigorously grinding something in a heavy stone mortar, was a woman who perfectly fit Brother Aris's description. Madam Verna was an elderly woman with sharp, bird-like features, a mess of gray hair tied back in a severe bun, and a permanent, deeply ingrained scowl etched into her wrinkled face.
She looked up as the bells chimed, her dark eyes narrowing as they landed on the pair entering her shop.
"Don't track mud on my floor," Madam Verna snapped before they had even fully crossed the threshold. But as she squinted through the dim light of the shop and recognized the bright red hair of the young woman, the harsh lines around her mouth softened just a fraction.
"Well, well. If it isn't the Scarlet girl," Verna said, setting her pestle down and wiping her hands on a stained apron. "Little girl, it's been a long time since you came to see me. I haven't had to mix a fever-reducer for those rowdy brothers of yours since the snow melted."
"Hello, Verna-san," Rebecca greeted politely, offering a respectful bow of her head. She carefully guided Lencar toward the wooden counter, letting him lean heavily against it.
Madam Verna's sharp eyes darted from Rebecca to the massive, slouched figure beside her. She took in the pale, sweating skin visible above the linen mask, the heavy cloak, and the general aura of utter misery radiating from the man. A slow, highly amused, and utterly meaningful smile crept onto the herbalist's weathered face, completely replacing her initial scowl.
"Oh, my," Verna chuckled, a dry, raspy sound that echoed in the cluttered shop. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter, her eyes dancing with unfiltered village gossip. "You are now bringing a boy with you, haha. And a big one, at that. I always told you that you spent too much time worrying about your siblings and not enough time finding a strong back to help carry the load. Though, by the looks of him, you'll be the one carrying him for the next few days."
Rebecca's face instantly flushed a brilliant, vibrant shade of crimson that perfectly matched her hair. She stood up straighter, waving her hands frantically in front of her in flustered denial.
"Verna-san! It's not... he isn't... we aren't like that!" Rebecca stammered, her composure entirely shattering under the weight of the old woman's teasing. "He is a friend of mine! He works with me at the Rusty Spoon, and he has only been in Nairn for a short time. He doesn't have anyone else to look after him, and he is very, very sick."
Lencar let out a long, miserable groan, burying his face in his arms on the counter to hide the genuine amusement threatening to break his character. He forced a heavy cough to cover the sound.
"I apologize for the intrusion, ma'am," Lencar wheezed weakly, playing the part of the polite, burdensome invalid perfectly.
Verna laughed again, clearly enjoying the chaos she had caused. "Relax, child, I'm only pulling your leg. Though you could do worse, even if he does look like death warmed over." She held out a wrinkled hand. "Let me see the parchment. What did Aris prescribe?"
Rebecca, still fighting the blush on her cheeks, hastily pulled the folded note from her pocket and handed it across the counter.
The herbalist adjusted a pair of thick spectacles on her nose and squinted at the writing. She gave a sharp nod. "Standard severe chest congestion and fever reduction. Lung-wort, crushed willow bark, a dash of fire-root to sweat out the chill, and some elderberry syrup to coat the throat so he stops barking like a seal."
Verna turned around, moving with surprising agility for a woman of her age, pulling jars and bottles from the high shelves. She dumped a handful of dried leaves and crushed powders into a small paper satchel, tying it off with a piece of twine. She then grabbed a small vial of thick, dark purple syrup, placing both items on the counter.
"Boil the dry mix in hot water for ten minutes. Drink it twice a day. Take a spoonful of the syrup whenever the coughing gets so bad he can't breathe," Verna instructed, her tone turning entirely professional. She looked directly at Lencar. "And stay in bed, you foolish boy. Magic can heal the flesh, but it can't fix stupidity if you keep pushing yourself."
"Understood, Verna-san. Thank you," Lencar murmured.
Rebecca quickly placed a few copper coins on the counter to cover the cost, slipping the medicine into her pocket. "Thank you so much, Verna-san. We'll get out of your hair now."
"See that you do. And make sure he drinks plenty of water!" Verna called out after them as they navigated back out the door, the brass bells chiming a cheerful farewell.
The walk back to the Scarlet household was significantly faster than the walk to the church. The morning traffic had thinned out, and Rebecca was clearly eager to get her patient out of the damp air and into a secure, warm environment.