In essence I pass out almost as soon as I curl up under the sheets. At least for a while. What awaits me is not pleasant, restful sleep though. Quite the opposite is true, as the fever already has me firmly in its clutches. What awaits me instead of actual rest are fever dreams. Each one a weird mix of recent events, idle thoughts and impossible craziness. The worst part though is, that I'm half aware of it all just being a dream. And while I try to apply logic to straighten out this mental mess, my feverish subconsciousness doesn't care for logic at all. If anything, trying to think my way out of this mental morass only makes it worse.

In the end I don't wake up on my own. Instead it's Elzbieta who wakes me, as she puts a fresh, cool wet cloth on my forehead. And to be honest, I almost wish I hadn't woken. Sure, it's a blessed relief that I'm not trapped in a illogical nightmare of my minds own making anymore, but it's replaced by another bother that is no better at all. The itch. That gods and goddesses damned itch! I groan and my fingers twitch, as I fight the urge to scratch it out of reflex as I'm still waking up.

Elzbieta smiles down at me and after moment removes the wet cloth again, using it, to wipe away some sweat in the process.

"Good to see you awake. The way you were twisting and turning, I'd say you didn't have pleasant dreams."

I groan again and sit up, my nails digging deep into the bedding, so I don't give in to the urge to scratch where the rash itches most. Then I notice something else. Something I would have taken not of sooner if my mind wasn't still so muddled.

"Ulryk?"

The little boy is right now indeed not with his mother. Not anywhere where I can see him anyway.

Elzbieta chuckles, but is quick to answer my one word question anyway to ease my mind.

"Agnieszka is back from Bartertown. She dropped by a little earlier. She offered to watch him for a little while, so I can focus on you for a moment or two instead. Oh! And she dropped off your purchases too. They are on the workbench. You'll have to take care of your ledger later though, once the fever doesn't cloud your mind anymore. I don't want to mess with your bookkeeping."

I nod and finally manage to pull myself together enough to function, at least somewhat.

"There are some ointment jars on the workbench. Could you get me one? And one of the polished hardwood spoon and a patch of soft leather too. Those should all be on the shelf over the workbench somewhere."

She quickly moves over to the workbench. The jars are easy enough to find. The rest takes a little longer, but she is successful in her search in the end.

"The ointment is for the itch? Or rather against it, right? What are the spoon and the leather for though?"

I finally sit all the way up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, so I can take off my nightshirt.

Elzbieta winces a little at the sight that greets her.

"That bad?"

Without waiting for an answer I look down only to wince a little. It is that bad. Nothing I won't survive, but it sure is worse than the last time I got to make the experience.

"Well, to answer your question. The ointment numbs all feeling in areas where it is applied rather indiscriminately. It's best not to get any on your fingers. Unless you don't mind having numb hands for a few hours. Never mind the possibility of it getting into eyes or onto the tongue from your fingers. Not touching your face at all is actually not easy."

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She blinks in surprise at first. Then she laughs out loud.

"Oh dear gods and goddesses. Yes. Sorry. I know it can get bad, but it sounds hilarious too."

I snort as I spoon a little of the ointment out of the jar and onto the exposed, angry red rash.

"It is hilarious … until you are the one who gets to experience it. Anyway, could you lend me a hand? Take the soft leather patch, spread the ointment out and rub it in. Be careful and make sure to always only touch one side of the leather patch."

Elzbieta sighs, takes the soft leather that has just the right size, and begins to do, as I asked of her. Her voice is soft as she speaks up again.

"I guess I better get used to it. I'll probably have to do it for my little boy too before long after all."

"For him and any other children you might still have. Only once though. And it should be both easier and harder for little ones like him. Little children don't tend to hold still, especially if they are uncomfortable, after all. Don't forget to cover the rash with cloth after putting on the ointment. Babies are sure to get just about everything they can get their hands on into their mouth after all."

I fall silent once more and she finishes gently rubbing the ointment in, the itch finally subsides, as much of my front goes weirdly numb. As I turn around she is quick to repeat the process with my back. I don't even need to provide any further instructions.

She finishes, putting the leather rag away with great care, folding it in such a way that she won't touch the side that was in contact with the ointment by accident.

"Well, at least Ulryk is smaller. I'll probably have to use less of the ointment for him. Am I right?"

I nod and resist the urge to just drop back on the bed at the last moment. That would get some of the ointment into the sheets for sure and who knows where it would go from there. Best not to take that particular risk. Thus I grab my nightdress and put it back on. That will do for now. And I'll have to do some laundry eventually anyway. Or I could enchant it to be self cleaning too? I blame the fact that this sounds incredibly tempting right now on the fever. At the same time though I decide to think about it some more once I'm over this.

The way most of my upper body feels totally and utterly numb right now is incredibly weird, but I get up anyway. I eye the ledger, visible through the open door to the shop out front, for a moment, but decide against it. That too can wait for another few days. Instead I just eye the jug of dwarven stone oil Agnieszka dropped off for me. I move it under the workbench where I keep most of the other heavy containers, like the ones for the rice oil and the birch sap. That is about as much as I get done before I feel utterly exhausted.

Elzbieta tussles my hair although she looks tempted to do more than that. My warnings about getting that ointment anywhere are probably still fresh in her mind though. In the end she shakes her head and smiles.

"Get back into bed, Valeria. Rest up for now. Is there anything else you want me to do for you? While Agnieszka looks after my little sunshine. Other than minding the shop?"

I stop dead in my tracks, as she asks. There indeed is something.

"Actually."

I grab the jar with the red tea from the shelf, as well as clean silk bag.

"You could get some tea brewing. Firewood. Water. I probably don't have to explain this to you. Right?"

She snorts in amusement.

"Yes, this ranger knows how to make a fire. She might just be able to boil some water too. It's more the finer points of making decent tea you could explain to me instead."

I laugh out loud, as I lie back down.

"Fine. Some finer pointers then. Use the silk bag for the tea leaves. Don't stuff it too tight either. One of those is good enough for the smaller cauldron."

I'm getting incredibly sleepy again already, but I keep going.

"And don't put it in while the water is actually boiling. Let it cool just a little first. And … after … put a lid on … it's good to drink … cold too ..."

That's as far as I get before sleep claims me again. And of course there are more crazy dreams waiting for me. Dreams of Elzbieta brewing crazy potions, knowing not in the slightest what she is doing. Oh, good gods and goddesses, I should have told her not to add anything else, like sugar or spices.

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