The evening was a fine one, and the last coral rays of the day lit the dust within the Corbin’s home into an ethereal haze.
Dawn paced the room with William in her arms. He’d been ill for over a week and had grown increasingly sallow each day.
Amber, the village midwife, visited the house several times daily, and talked comfortingly whilst burning herbs in the hearth and wafting smoke over William, filling the house with a sickly sweet aroma.
‘It’s what my mother did for me when I was younger,’ she replied when Dawn complained about the smell, which after a time had become almost unbearable. ‘She burned heather and rose… filled the house with lavender if I was poorly. It smelt like stink for a while, but it did me the world of good.’
Dawn was tired, and her eyes were deep as furrows. She hadn’t eaten for days, and her sleep was stolen for fear of waking up and finding William gone. ‘I don’t like to think of him in pain.’ She said. ‘He coughs and mews when you waft that smoke over him. He doesn’t like it.’
‘It’s the badness inside him what doesn’t like it.’ Amber said. ‘That’s what my mother told me, anyhow… Said a cold is like a spirit, gets inside you where it’s warm, and doesn’t want to come out no more. You’ll see.’
William blinked and clutched for Dawn with his tiny fingers. She sat quickly and fed him.
‘See? He’s coming ‘round and he wants his ma’s milk. There’s a good boy.’
He drank until Dawn’s nipple was sore, but she smiled and cried and thanked Amber, and asked her to fetch more sea-grass and heather and fill the house with as much smoke as she could.
‘You’re going to be well,’ Dawn said to the mass of blankets at her breast when Amber had gone. Her smile was bright yet teetering, tears rolled down to her lips and she tasted the salt. ‘You’re going to be fine…’
From outside she heard her husband laugh, and Dawn looked across the room to where a bright column of smoke blazed upon the wooden floor. The vapours in the room swirled in the beam, and with her free hand she wafted it closer to her.
‘We thought the house was burning down!’ Reighn said, a smile on his face.
‘Really? Amber said…’
‘I’m teasing, dear. I know, I’ve just seen her. She says young William’s feeling better. And how are you?’
‘We’re going to be well.’
Reighn stroked Dawn’s hair and looked in awe at his son; his little fighter. Dawn rest her face in his open palm. He felt the wetness of her cheek in his dry hand, and pulled her close.