Mayra watched closely as Brenna mixed herbs into a poultice. She really wished Finn were there; her best friend knew far more about magical herbs than she herself did. Self-deprecatingly, she wondered if the other woman would have been a better fit for this mission.
Still, Mayra had learned much from her mother, and then more from Finn and Dr. Sherman. She easily recognized most of what Brenna was using and could confirm that the herbs, in normal usage, had positive properties.
She'd never been entirely clear on the line between normal, but effective medicines and magical ones. Many or most of the ingredients could be the same with different outcomes. It must be the methodology that differentiated the two.
Brenna stirred the mixture and then wrapped the poultice in clean linen, and smiled at Mayra.
"It's finished, then?" Mayra asked.
"Yes," Brenna replied, putting it against her arm to show that it was nontoxic. "This must be placed on his head, if he is bald, or his neck, wherever there is exposed skin closest to the injury."
Mayra nodded at her, still unsure as to whether she was on board with this plan or not, but knowing it was ultimately up to Cora to make that call. If a Rhone bride was responsible for either the death or healing of the Commodore, it could shift the political landscape rather dramatically one way or the other.
They walked inside the hut, followed by Peter, where Cora kept vigil over her unconscious husband. Edmar stood in the corner, staring at his parents with a blank expression.
His mother looked up as the women entered, and gave a nod of greeting. Gordon returned with Caspian, who he'd gone to fetch when it was decided that the experimental treatment would be tried.
If his father were to either die or get better, Caspian should be present for it.
He didn't go stand next to his brother like Mayra had expected, but took up a place against an opposite wall. She thought she spotted resentment pass across the man's face, but it must just be concern.
Cora gestured Brenna forward, and the younger woman looked around as if to check whether anyone would stop her or not.
"You understand what you are doing, do you not?" Cora said seriously.
"Yes ma'am." Brenna nodded with deference.
"Then proceed. I need not explain to you the consequences of deceit in this matter." The elder woman's eyes tightened. The doctors were not optimistic about Haf's chances should nothing be done.
If someone wanted him dead, they need only wait. This interference was unlikely to be malicious, and seemed worth the risk in her view. Mayra wasn't sure she agreed, but it wasn't her place to say so.
She watched them carefully. Brenna must realize that the Cetoans would not hesitate to execute her for assassinating their leader, and Rhone was unlikely to seek revenge for someone that nobody seemed to like.
If she was following the Void again, it would serve everyone's interests for her to be executed.
Brenna approached Haf and carefully lifted his large head. She placed the center of the fabric underneath his neck and wrapped the rest around him like a scarf.
"How quickly does this normally work?" Mayra asked after a moment.
"It depends on the severity of the injuries, I think," Brenna equivocated. "I've never tried it so long after the injury occurred. Normally people get to treatment faster."
Several pairs of eyes studied the woman as she backed away slightly from Haf's quiet form. Everyone had been expecting some immediate result one way or the other. The stretch of silence made it seem like Brenna had been attention-seeking and nothing more.
It seemed more disappointing to Cora than it should have been. She sighed.
"Thank you for trying to help, young lady. You may go." She waved her hand dismissively.
"About that," Mayra put in. "The other girls really don't like her at all. There was fighting. I was wondering perhaps if there were any separate accommodations we could put her in to avoid further strife."
Cora looked wearily at her. She had no patience for girls who caused trouble. Women were meant to be kind and work diligently together for the common good.
"Women who fight with each other will not make good brides for the Ceto." She said after a moment.
"I don't want to fight with anyone," Brenna looked down at her toes. "I'll go back, I'll do my best to get along. I'll take whatever treatment, I just want a new life. Give me any husband at all, and I'll marry him this minute."
Gordon opened his mouth, but Mayra gave him a sharp look and he closed it. He wasn't quite the brightest, but he knew a warning look like that when he saw it. Peter saw the brief exchange with thoughtful eyes.
Cora considered the young woman and felt a dash of pity. Unwanted by her own people, ostracized by the women around her. Even if she had brought it all upon herself, it was a terrible position to be in.
Some men had arrived from further settlements. Cora could send this girl away with one of them and be rid of the immediate problem. Perhaps the strife would be lessened there, but discord in any part of her people was bound to ripple outwards.
Edmar rolled his eyes at the indecision.
"Let the girl stay. If she finds a man, let him keep her in line. If not, send her home." He rumbled from the corner.
Brenna glanced at him with mild curiosity, and then back at Cora.
"You want to take charge of her?" Cora glared at her son's interference, and then softened. "Fine. The weather should be pleasant tonight; she can stay outside if she finds the Bridal Hut untenable, and we can find her a better place tomorrow, or send her home if she finds she cannot tolerate it here."
Brenna breathed a sigh of tentative relief just as the sound of stirring from the bed drew everyone's attention.
"Haf?" Cora took his hand. "My love?"
Mayra quickly fetched some water, knowing that getting him rehydrated was of utmost importance to his healing. A Cetoan doctor in the corner moved forward as Haf groaned softly.
He checked the Commodore's eyes and felt his pulse before moving aside to let Mayra give the man a little water.
"Sir?" The doctor said once Mayra had finished. "Can you understand me?"
"Yes," Haf croaked, and swallowed around his still-dry throat.
"How are you feeling?" Cora put in before the doctor could ask anything else.
"Sore," Haf replied, bringing a hand up to his head. "Where's Naomi?"
Everyone except Caspian looked confused, but Haf's younger son stepped forward to answer the question.
"She's injured, Father, but she'll be all right. She's resting now." He said, then addressed the confused looks of the others. "Naomi watched over him on the ship, and has been there every time he's woken to give him water and a little food."
"Then she's likely the reason he got home alive," The doctor noted, "The dehydration is still severe, but any worse and he would not have made it at all. Sir, I think you should try to drink a little more water and then rest. I think all unnecessary people should leave now so as not to overstimulate him."
Cora's eyes misted at the thought of how close she'd come to losing her husband.
"I'll stay," She said. "Everyone else can go."
The spectators filed out as Cora took the water and helped her husband drink.
"Was that a coincidence, or did her stuff work?" Peter whispered to Mayra, who responded with a slight shrug.
"I'm not sure. The timing was convenient, but not definitive. I guess we'll see how fast Haf gets better."
Right now she needed to decide where to put Brenna exactly. She turned to the other woman, who was currently addressing Edmar.
"Thank you, for standing up for me," She said humbly to the Commodore's older son.
Caspian was already quickly on his way back to his own hut, having not said a word to his older brother despite Edmar's passing attempt to get his attention.
"Oh, it was nothing," Edmar turned up his nose slightly at the Rhone woman addressing him. Truthfully, he'd been more annoyed at his mother than anything. Helping this pathetic reject was incidental.
"It was very kind, and I hope I can prove worthy of the chance I've been given," She bowed her head.
"Sure." Edmar gave her an awkward combination of a smile and grimace before walking away.
"He's not for you," Mayra said of the man, sensing something in Brenna's demeanor. "He'll marry a nice Cetoan girl since he's the next leader of his people. I'm told a Rhone girl just wouldn't do for that position since none of you are aware of the culture and customs deeply enough to fit the bill."
"Oh! That's not– I wasn't— Not at all!" Brenna stuttered and ducked her head in chagrin. "I was thankful for his help, not… Please don't tell anyone I gave that impression, things will just get worse for me!"
The girl seemed close to tears over the implication, and Mayra mellowed her tone.
"No, of course I won't, I just didn't want you to get your hopes up for something that won't be."
"I have very little hope at all," Brenna replied softly.