The Kidnapping of Baroness 5

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Her hands were tired from a yesterday of setting broken bones and sewing wounds. Two young sentries had playfully wrestled each other over the edge of a castle parapet, and all their friends and relatives had hovered around while she worked, telling each other frightful predictions of lifelong crippling and assuring her that they had faith in her contracts with friendly spirits and the power of positive healing. They had not remarked that she was using the power of positive bone setting, gluing and sewing.

Occasionally she had remembered to mutter some molecular chemistry to sound mysterious, and once, uncovering some bad damage, she had muttered a genuine prayer directed to luck, fate, the Universal Spirit and the will to live.

Lady Witch let the reins go slack on the neck of her horse and rubbed her wrists. The morning sun seemed too bright. She was feeling a slight headache from the friendly party of celebration that had followed her success. No one feared her in Lord Randolph’s area of command. They knew that Lord Randolph and his towns had her affection.

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