Drums of Autumn - Diana Gabaldon [335]
“I’m hiding!” she said fiercely. “Surely to goodness ye see that?”
“Is the child sick?”
“No!” She hunched herself over the baby, squirming as far away from him as she could get.
“Then—”
“It’s no but a wee rash! All bairns get them, my mither said so!” He could hear the fear in her voice, underneath the furious denial.
“Are you sure?” he said, as gently as he could. He reached a tentative hand toward the dark blotch she held.
She struck at him, awkwardly one-handed, and he jerked back with a hiss of pain.
“Jesus! Ye stabbed me!”
“Stay back! I’ve my husband’s dirk,” she warned. “I won’t let ye take him, I’ll kill ye first, I swear I will!”
He believed her. Hand to his mouth, he could taste his own blood, sweet and salt on his tongue. It was no more than a scratch, but he believed her. She’d kill him—or die herself, which was a great deal more likely if one of the crew found her.
But no, he thought. She was worth money. Bonnet wouldn’t kill her—only have her dragged on deck and forced to watch as her child was torn out of her arms and thrown into the sea. He remembered the dark shadows that dogged the ship, and shuddered with a cold that had nothing to do with the dank surroundings.
“I won’t take him. But if it’s the pox—”
“It’s not! I swear to Bride, it’s not!” A small hand shot out of the shadows and gripped him by the sleeve. “It’s as I tell ye, it’s no but a milk rash, I’ve seen it, man—a hundred times before! I’m the eldest o’ nine, I ken weel enough when a bairn’s sick and when he’s but teething!”
He hesitated, then made up his mind abruptly. If she was wrong, and the child had smallpox, she was likely already infected; to return her to the hold would be only to spread the disease. And if she was right—he knew as well as she that it didn’t matter; any rash would condemn the child on sight.
He could feel her quivering, on the brink of hysteria. He wanted to touch her in reassurance, but thought better of it. She wouldn’t trust him, and no wonder.
“I won’t give you away,” he whispered.
He was met by suspicious silence.
“You need food, don’t you? And fresh water. You’ll have no milk soon, without it, and then what of the bairn?”
He could hear her breathing, ragged and phlegmy. She was ill, but it needn’t be pox; all the hold passengers coughed and wheezed—the damp had got into their lungs early on.
“Show him to me.”
“No!” Her eyes shone in the dark, fearful as a cornered rat’s, and the edge of her lip lifted over small white teeth.
“I swear I will not take him from you. I need to see, though.”
“What will ye swear on?”
He groped his memory for a suitable Celtic oath, then gave up and said what was in his mind.
“On my own woman’s life,” he said, “and on the heads of my unborn sons.”
He could feel doubt, and then a small easing of the tension in her; the round knee pressed against his leg moved slightly as she relaxed. There was a stealthy rustling in the chains nearby. Real rats this time.
“I canna leave him here alone while I steal food.” He saw the faint tilt of her head toward the noise. “They’ll eat him alive; they’ve bitten me in my sleep already, the filthy vermin.”
He reached out his hands, conscious all the time of the sounds from the deck above. It wasn’t likely that anyone would come down here, but how long before he was missed above?
She still hesitated, but at last reached a finger toward her breast, and freed the child’s mouth with a tiny pop! It made a small sound of protest, and wriggled slightly as he took it.
He hadn’t held babies very often; the feel of the dirty little bundle was startling—inert but lively, soft yet firm.
“Mind his head!”
“I’ve got it.” Cradling the warm round skull in one careful palm, he duck-walked backward a step or two, bringing the child’s face into dim light.
The cheeks were splotched with reddish pustules, topped with white—they looked for all the world like pox to Roger, and he felt a tremor of revulsion in the palms of his hands. Immunity or not, it took courage to touch contagion and not flinch.
He squinted at the child, then carefully undid its