22 December 1123

　　The sun had barely risen when Margery stealthily prepared for another day of hard toil in the fields. She shuffled around the gloomy cottage, searching for her missing shoe while desperately trying not to wake Pa or Mama. Their strange illness seemed to have worsened overnight and the sounds of their laboured breathing filled the room.

　　William already waited outside but Ma and Elizabeth joined in Margery`s wordless preparations. Rachel was also awake and had resumed her vigil at Mama`s bed. She had long since forsaken work in the fields, instead playing the role of carer for their sick family members.

　　"How`s she doing?" Margery whispered.

　　"Fine," Rachel hissed, though Margery heard genuine concern in her voice. "She was completely delirious last night, thought I was either Aunt Susan or Papa. I don`t know what more to do. Astrid was no help, stupid midwife. This is all that wicked foreigner`s fault. She brought her filthy foreign disease."

　　Margery hummed in vague agreement, not wanting to fuel further angst towards the Redhead. Barely a day went by that Rachel didn`t mention William`s strange visitor, though they`d luckily seen no sign of her since Pa escorted her away to Stowey. Margery guessed that her elder sister resented the Foreigner`s unrepentant freedom. She shared the sentiment to an extent, though didn`t dare raise the topic. Margery hated conflict and knew that Rachel`s anger at the woman could easily shift to her.

　　Ma silently beckoned to Margery from the door so she gave Rachel`s shoulder a squeeze of encouragement and rushed out to start the day. Ma handed Margery and Elizabeth tools for the day`s work and hurried them along to join William.

　　Margery`s brother sat out the front of the cottage, waiting impatiently for his sisters to emerge. He was antsy and already in a foul mood. The first weeks of William`s adult life had been a trial by fire. He was the man of the house in Pa`s absence and shouldered the majority of the family`s work. Margery felt sorry for him but it was admittedly nice to see him finally pull his weight. He`d gotten away with the bare minimum for too long but the protections afforded by his extended childhood were gone. Now he too got to see the world for what it truly was. Warts and all.

　　"Where`s Rachel?" William asked tetchily.

　　"She`s staying behind again to look after Mama and Pa," Ma responded wearily. "They`re both getting worse. And Rachel said she needs to perfect her tending skills` before her wedding."

　　There was an uncharacteristic hint of sarcasm in Ma`s voice. The stress of their late harvest and sick family weighed on her too.

　　"But we need all the help we can get," William whined. "The cold weather`s setting in and the crop`s already starting to rot."

　　"Don`t worry about it Willy, we need to get going. Besides, we`ll get more done if you two aren`t at each other`s throats."

　　With a shrug, William conceded that Ma had a point and the four of them departed to the field. As they walked, Margery noted the thinning numbers of villagers that still worked their fields. Some had also succumbed to the mystery illness while others had already finished their harvest and awaited their turn with Holford`s single plough before sowing the winter crop.

　　Most of the villagers had noticed her family`s struggle, though none had offered to help. A few had given friendly smiles as the family trudged home after another long day, a mix of empathy, encouragement and approval at seeing William finally pulling his weight. But nothing more. Everyone was too busy caring for their own sick family members. One`s own clan always came first.

　　Margery was concerned by William`s mention of rot. It was a curse for the slow or lazy that accelerated with each drizzly day. It would determine how comfortably the family would live through winter. If at all. The family had discussed the food situation during the cold evenings and it looked dire no matter what they did. It was just a question of how dire. The promise of a hard winter, full of hunger and haggling for food, only further dampened their motivation to work in the fields.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it`s taken without the author`s consent. Report it.

　　The family made for glum travelling companions and even Elizabeth was silent. They were already flat upon arriving at their field. Before they`d even started working. They dumped their belongings beneath the grand old oak and, without a word, collected their tools and dispersed to begin their prescribed tasks. Each moved as if wading through honey.

　　William marched into the field with Pa`s scythe and hacked at the crop with unusual ferocity, driven by some unspoken rage. Ma and Elizabeth took the role of baling the cuttings so Margery was left alone to thresh the family`s semi-dry wheat with William`s flail. She preferred it that way, being alone. She threw herself into the work, trying to extract every grain she could.

　　Burning arms today is better than an aching stomach in the winter.

　　The morning passed with its usual monotony. Other villagers started to arrive around midday to deliver food to the few remaining workers. Margery saw Joan Miller pass by with a basket for her latest love interest. Joan and Rachel were the queens of Holford`s youth, friends one moment and bitter rivals the next. The only thing guaranteed to unite them was the promise of tormenting their younger siblings.

　　Joan`s younger brother Henry was Margery`s age and her only friend in the world. They were both outcasts after their elder sisters` endless taunts and the pair had established an alliance that blossomed into a friendship. Margery occasionally dreamed of it becoming something more. That would mean having Joan as a sister-in-law but she`d survived childhood with Rachel and could always build a nice little cottage on the far side of Holford. Margery wished Henry would bring her a basket.

　　Instead, her family paused beneath the almost naked oak for a dreary meal of the previous evening`s stale bread. The conversation was as sparse as their food but Elizabeth did spot a rainbow, pointing it out to her solemn companions with child-like glee. It was the highlight of their day.

　　The family returned to their solitary tasks and worked until it was dark. The family collected their tools and Margery poured the day`s takings into a sack. It wasn`t even full.

　　They were all exhausted as they trudged back towards the house and the weather mimicked their mood, suddenly buffeting them with sheets of sleet. Ma and Elizabeth shared some weary banter while Margery and William lagged behind, preferring to walk in silence.

　　When they arrived at the cottage, Margery was irked that Ma and Elizabeth had paused at the front gate rather than going straight into their warm home. Eager to dry herself and the grain by the fire, Margery walked up to see what was the matter. And almost dropped their grain in shock.

　　The red-haired foreigner sat on a log beside the front vegetable patch. Water ran down her face and she was sopping wet but she squinted up at the family with a big smile.

　　"Hello there," she called jovially. "Back from a productive day in the fields I hope? Terrible weather."

　　"What the hell are you doing here?" William hissed through gritted teeth, further shocking Margery with the hate in his voice.

　　"I tried to wait inside but Rachel threw me out. Something about causing your grandmother undue distress, though she used much more colourful language. So I pulled up a log to wait until you returned home."

　　The Foreigner`s jolly mood didn`t match the bleakness her surroundings.

　　"I don`t care why you`re on the ground," William spat. "Why are you here? Back in Holford? Shouldn`t you be skulking in your cave?"

　　Margery gave William a curious look at the mention of a cave. Wasn`t she supposed to be in London?

　　The Foreigner`s head drooped like a chastised child. When she looked back up, her smile was gone and she spoke seriously.

　　"William, I`ve thought long and hard about what you said to me back at the cave. About how you`ve helped me over these past weeks when I couldn`t help myself. And about how I repaid your kindness&"

　　The Redhead paused, suddenly aware that the family were all staring down at her.

　　"Anyway," she dismissed. "I owe you an apology. I owe you my gratitude. You were there when no one else was. You kept me company. And kept me alive. So I`m here to make up for being a complete ass."

　　Ma scowled at Matilda`s foul language.

　　"I think I can help Pa, and Mama," Matilda continued. "If you`ll let me?"

　　Margery`s ears pricked up at the promise of assistance and her hope multiplied when she remembered that the Foreigner was a herbalist. Ma`s scowl remained firmly set though her eyes also shone with anticipation.

　　But William stared at the Foreigner with distrust, weighing the sincerity of her words. He looked torn and even wearier than when they`d left the field.

　　"Fine," William eventually replied.

　　"Oh thank God," Margery exclaimed, butting through the gate and inside to escape the rain. She dropped the flail by the door with a thud and crept into the cottage, hanging up her wet coat and placing the grain by the warm hearth.

　　Pa gave a nasty cough and Rachel glared at her for the sudden disruption. Margery considered telling her sister about the Foreigner but decided against it. She would find out soon enough.