The Middle English phrase syk and sori is easily translated to modern English as sick and sorry. There is very little that is odd to modern readers about the phrase. As I went in search of a topic for this week’s Medieval Mumbles—one that could be used in a snippet from a WIP—I stumbled on a fascinating article that explained being ‘lovesick’ was considered an actual illness in the Middle Ages and had a variety of medical treatments.

This being the case, when Keeva MacKai, who is suffering from seasickness—having been tricked by one of her sisters into traveling by ship to England—encounters her host, and brother-in-law, Lord Randal Du Grace, she doesn’t make a very good impression. In fact, prompted by a physician, he jumps to the conclusion that she isn’t seasick but rather lovesick. Randal thinks she sailed to England deliberately in pursuit of his brother Simon. Here’s a scene from my working progress, The Wilding of Keeva MacKai – A Mackai Family Novella.

The two seamen signaled earlier by the captain reappeared at the top of the gangway. They carried something in a blanket slung between them. Bringing it to where Randal stood with their captain, they placed the laden blanket on the ground.

“I’ll take my money now.” The captain held out his hand.

Waving over his factor, Randal told him to pay the captain then dismissed them both from his mind. He bent to peel back the blanket.

Eyes of charcoal grey, so dark as to be nearly black glared—whether with fever or fury or both—at him from a wan face surrounded by lank black hair. Her mouth, cracked and dried as it was, might be full and generous were she in good health. He wondered if her complexion were always pale or would that too be rosy and tempting.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Keeva,” she rasped. “Lady Keeva MacKai.”

Keeva. That was the name of one of the sisters Jessamyn wrote of, but which one? The one who championed lost causes, or the one who healed others. Perhaps this was the one that wished to be a nun. “Why are you here?”

“Because your cursed brother kidnapped me.” She lifted a fist as if to strike him. However, her arm fell back weakly, and her anger seemed to flee with the effort.

Whatever wrong had been done, and by whom, the woman needed care.

“Send for my physician,” he ordered the factor.

“Immediately, my lord.”

Then Randal scooped her up, and holding her against his chest strode up the path to the Du Grace home. He took her to Jessamyn’s former chamber then ordered the housekeeper to attend Keeva and prepare her for the doctor to examine.

He paced before the hearth in the great hall until the doctor completed his work. “How is she?”

“Weak, but she’ll live. I’ve bled her, and directed your housekeeper to feed the young woman a fortified broth for the next three days. After, if she improves, she may eat solid foods. I recommend she sit or lie in a sunny place whenever possible.”

“You bled her? She was seasick.”

“Nay Lord Du Grace, the woman is lovesick.”

“Yes, lovesick. She raved about a man called Simon, cursing and crying alternately. Saying she was heartily sorry she’d ever met him and at the same time sick that she’d not see him soon. ‘Tis a classic case.”

Randal blinked. It wasn’t like Simon to trifle with women, that was more Amis’ style. He’d have to send for Simon and find out the truth of what happened. If the doctor was correct, then Simon would have to make it right with Lady Keeva.

Leave a comment and let me know what you think about Keeva and Randal’s chances.

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