Sighing in exasperation as her twisted ropes of honey-gold
hair fell over her shoulders again, the healer’s apprentice reached up and tied them
together.
“Interesting hairstyle, Sally.
Functional, I’m sure, but interesting.”
Smiling, but not bothering to respond to her master’s
teasing, Sally continued grinding her herbs. Her hand slipped from the
pestle as she looked up, startled, when the door was flung open to the
rain. A very wet soldier stood in the doorway.
“I need a physician,” he said shortly, his dripping clothes
making a puddle on the scrubbed floor of the cottage.
Sally’s master, a tall, kind-faced man, put down the bandages
he’d been rolling. “Then how may I be of service?” he responded politely.
“My captain, and many of my fellow
infantry men are injured. We were marching to rejoin our regiment, and
there was a crossbowman in the woods. A rebel.
Before we knew what was happening…”
“Just a moment, my friend.
I’ll gather what I need and follow,” the healer said quickly.
“I’ll get the rest of the bandages, sir,” Sally said,
standing.
“Thank you,” he replied, gathering herbs and his
instruments. Sally shouldered the sack of white strips of cloth and
reached for her cloak, where it hung on the peg by the door. Her master placed
his hand over hers.
“No.”
Sally snatched her cloak indignantly. “I know I can
help you, and I’m coming.”
“You are to stay here,” he told her firmly.
“You’re not even being reasonable. I know what I’m
doing. I can tend wounds, and I want
to help!”
“Firstly Sally, there is no reason to put two people in
danger when one will suffice. Secondly, should anyone else need a
physician, you need to be here to help them. Suppose Mark’s wife goes
into labor while I’m gone? I’m trusting you to
hold down the fort. And lastly, you’ve never seen a battlefield, and I
hope you never do. I should be back in a few hours.” He took the
bag of bandages, and went into the rain without another word.
Sally stood moment longer, her cloak still in a
white-knuckled grip. She wasn’t sure whether to be furious, or extremely
grateful.
Well, there was no point just standing there. She did,
after all, have work to do. Hanging her cloak back on its peg, she turned
back to the mortar and pestle on the table.
And dropped it again when an awkward knock
sounded at the door. She stood to open it, and paused with her
hand on the latch. It would be Mark, perhaps with one of the older
children with him, both of them looking anxious and a little worried.
There was no reason for her to be apprehensive. She opened the door, but
Goodman Mark did not stand in the threshold.
A tall, beautiful young man with his long, pale hair
plastered to his head by the rain, was carrying another tall, slender form,
shrouded in two cloaks.
“I’m told this is the physician’s house,” he said, sounding
tired, and a little dazed.
“It is, but I’m afraid he’s not in. I’m his apprentice,
and you’re welcome to come in. If I can help, I will, and if not, I can
make your friend comfortable until he returns.” Sally stepped aside to
allow him to enter.
“Thank you,” he replied, coming in, still carefully cradling
his burden. “My friend has an arrow-wound and a fever.” Sally
hurriedly cleared her herbs from the table, and beckoned for him to place his
companion there. He did so gently, then stepped back, running a hand
through his sodden hair. Sally pulled the wet cloaks off of the prone
figure, who was tossing a little restlessly. The dark-haired boy –
no… Upon closer inspection, Sally came to the conclusion that this person
was no more of a boy than she was.
“Where is the wound?” she asked in her best businesslike
fashion, which was very businesslike indeed.
“Left shoulder,” the young man responded quickly.
Investigating, Sally soon discovered the very tidy dressing.
“Being that this sort of thing is next to impossible to do
one-handed, I’m assuming you know that…” she began uncomfortably.
“Yes,” he answered. “I’m aware that she’s a woman.”
Sally raised her eyebrows. “Care to explain? Just to pass the time?”
He didn’t really look as though he cared to, but did just the
same. “We trained together, but I didn’t find out until she was injured.”
Sally looked up, unable to hide her surprise. “And you
stayed with her? Most soldiers would’ve just dumped her in the nearest
village.” Or worse, she added
silently.
“She saved my life,” he said numbly. “And she’s
my friend.”
“Well, you did a good job with the injury. There’s no
infection. But she probably lost a lot of blood, and weakened like that,
was very susceptible to whatever she picked up. It’s hitting her
hard. Are you experiencing any symptoms?”
He made a face. “I’m wet. That’s about all I can
tell you at the moment.”
Sally laid a practiced hand on his damp forehead.
“You’re fine, for now. But if you start feeling ill, say something for pity’s sake.”
“I will.”
“There are towels in the cupboard over there. If you
have dry clothes, you can change in the loft. I’m going to get your
friend out of her wet things.” Sally was sure the girl would fit easily
into some of her clothes. “By the way,” she said, looking up, “do you
mind telling me your name?”
He paused. “Zechs Merquise,” he replied. “And my
friend is Noin.”
“Does she have a first name?”
“Most people do.”
“You just don’t know it, right?”
“Right,” Zechs said, a little sheepishly, continuing up the
ladder into the loft.
Waking up while someone is taking your clothes off is bound
to be disturbing.
“Relax Noin, I’m a healer.” Relax, I’m an apprentice healer never quite had the same effect,
Sally mused. “I have dry clothes for you. Can I help you change?”
“How do you know my name? Where am I? Where’s
Zechs?” she stuttered, blinking her too-bright eyes rapidly.
“Your friend Zechs told me your name. You’re in the
physician Matthew Po’s house, and I’m his apprentice Sally. Zechs is in
the loft changing into dry clothes. You should really do the same.”
Noin layed back down, exhausted by the effort required to sit
up and talk. She closed her eyes a moment, then
opened them again.
“I’ll try,” she said, weak voice firm.
Sally helped her into the loose homespun dress and wrapped a
quilt around her shoulders.
“Are you hungry?” Sally asked politely, knowing what the
answer would be.
“No thank you,” Noin answered, trying not to look ill at the
thought.
“Master Merquise?” she asked Zechs as he climbed down the
ladder.
“A bit,” he admitted, “but I can go back to the inn to eat, I
suppose.”
“Now that you’re dry, you’re actually considering going back
out into that mess?” Sally asked incredulously.
Noin, huddling in her quilt, looked up, too proud to ask him
to stay with her, but unable to keep herself from communicating that request
with her eyes all the same.
“Wait… back to the
inn?” Sally asked suddenly. “You were there before? Why didn’t you
leave her there and come find me? I would’ve come with you,
there was no need to drag her through the pouring rain!”
Zechs’ pale eyes hardened. “The innkeeper wouldn’t even
let us into the common room. We’re Imperial soldiers after
all. And carrying heaven knows what disease, as if that wasn’t bad
enough. I can see his point, I suppose, but I’d rather not give him my
money, just the same.”
Sally was livid. “What?!?
That bastard! How can someone
leave a sick person out in the rain? It’s just common human decency!
What the hell is wrong with him?” she fumed.
Zechs’
lips twitched into a smile. “My thoughts, just a little more colorfully
put…” he commented.