Lady Ellie, a pale flaxen-haired woman snatched her beer and smacked her lips loudly. Her son Mat was looking after his sick father - poor Mason had been unwell for weeks, he canned barely speak - and finally she had some own time. In her thoughts she returned to her son.
"Mother, he has never been like this before, I think he is dying. This must be some kind of witchcraft or whatever it is called. Father has always been as right as rain, you know", Mat said, his short stubby beard shuddering. Ellie felt chills.
"Do not be silly, son", she heard herself snapping. "He is only tired, he has worked so much. You could even this once be useful and keep your mouth shut before your father hears your follies. Are you as if some village idiot like your great-uncle?"
For real Ellie was scared. Witchcraft. She swallowed. Her dear Mason was always so nice and peaceable, never drinking too much or fighting like their neighbour's husband. Why could someone want misery for him? Witchcraft - bah, certainly madness.
Ellie looked around for she did not want to be alone with her depressed thoughts, when she saw someone, who definitely was not Breelander. She stiffened, only her light blue eyes moved while overseeing the quiet woman, who sat in the corner. The woman was jolly beautiful with her deep black hair and rich brown skin. But Ellie did not stare, because the woman was graceful-looking - no, those times were far behind, she had not been jealous in ages. There was no need to envy, she had family and a husband... who happened to be dying. The tears came into Ellie's eyes, but she kept gazing at the mysterious lady.
Slowly the dark foreign turned her inexpressive face and looked back at Ellie, who canned not move her look elsewhere. To her horror, the black lady - the wayfarer of South - got up and walked step by step to Ellie.
"Oh gentle madam, do weep not. I think I can help you grief", the lady in black crooned and smiled with care. Ellie stood up quickly and spilled her beer. The lady's voice was hoarse, like she would had not used it for a while.
"I - I do not know what are you ta-talking about! Leave, witch or whatever you want yourself to be called. You are not to come into my house!", Ellie uttered. Her voice was wuthering. She hated it. The dark lady looked slightly offended, but she did not leave.
"I can heal him", she told with a small, but an articulate voice. Ellie wiped her tears and then answered angrily: "I know not who you are, but I will not discuss of my husband, anyways not with you, Southron!"
Ah, rumours, they were so unpleasant.
"Will you let him die, only because you were too suspicious?"
Ellie opened her mouth, but did not know what to say. Maybe the woman was a witch, maybe not. But Ellie would not risk her love's life.
"What do you want as a reward?", she asked wearily. "I do have no gold."
The dark lady shaked her head calmly and said nothing anymore.
Ellie led her into Mason's house and told her son to stay quiet. Mat sat next to his father all night and the dark lady played her harp, drums and flute, one after the other, and she sang strange melody with her strange voice, which flowed from her lips easily, without hard trying.
'Twas the most wondrous night in Ellie's life. She fell asleep before the dawn and in the morning the mysterious lady (or the Witch, as Mat called her) was gone. Ellie's husband felt only slightly better, but he had enough strength to eat some soup. Before long he cured perfectly. Ellie's son was impressed. "Do not judge a healer by her looks", he kept saying for years. Sometimes he thought that he saw the Witch-lady in the gauntlet, but when he looked again, she was always gone. Many times he comforted himself by thinking that the dark lady still looked after their family and protected them from diseases. Maybe her song drove away al the misfortune, because none of their family was taken ill anymore.
Who knows, maybe it is true?
