“Hard to hold services if it sounds like you’re murdering someone,” Hedrek agrees.
Davilla nods. “We put silence wards on a room and converted a storeroom for her care. The Temple asked if alchemy or herbalism could help where magic couldn’t work fast enough. I tried different things, but some made it worse. Then infections set in. This goo keeps them at bay. You have no idea what it’s taken to get her here.”
Davilla waves at the flask. “I don’t even have a name for this concoction. I’ve been feeling my way along with experience and educated guesswork. The woad idea was the patient’s suggestion, and Goddess help us, it seems to work. We’re experimenting with concentrations. I have batches with varying percentages of woad. We’ll paint them on and see which gets the best response.”
Vanya walks in waving paint brushes. “The maintenance staff thought we were mad, but this will be easier than gloves.”
“You’re wearing gloves,” Davilla frowns. “Brushes or not. One splatter and you’re addicted. I won’t lose you saving her.”
Vanya nods. On go protective aprons and gloves as they dunk bandages in solution. Davilla asks Hedrek, “Can you carry this tray without getting any on you? I don’t have another pair of gloves.”
Grinning, he wiggles his fingers and the tray levitates. Vanya giggles as they head down the hallway. Hedrek opens the door graciously and closes it behind them.
Davilla and Vanya cautiously cut away the old bandages, pausing to soak areas that have adhered. Hedrek cringes at the sight. They clean her with the same solution, and as they move to roll her over, green eyes open. “Smells better,” the voice rasps.
“We’re testing woad concentrations. I tried some on you yesterday and it helps. This might hurt, but we’re not trying to hurt you.”
“I know,” the voice sighs. Davilla paints the strongest concentration on her patient’s back.
“Too much, too much. It burns. Off... Off...,” the raspy voice demands.
Quickly, Davilla grabs an old bandage and wipes it away.
Trying again, she halves the concentration and paints a new stripe on her patient, “How is that?”
“S’ ok.” the voice replies. After a few more tries, it seems that anything much over one part in three is painful, so Davilla sets those bowls aside to be diluted.
Continuing to paint stripes on her patient with the lesser concentrations, she quickly finishes the task. “That’s the last of our test patches done. We’ll bandage your back now and see how everything looks tomorrow. It may take us a few days to determine the best concentration to use, but we will find it.”
“Thanks,” the voice rasps.
“She’s out again,”
Vanya mouths to Davilla, who nods.
Hedrek steps forward and, with a few gestures, the patient floats gently just above the bed.
“Why that?” Davilla asks him.
“It seemed like it might be more...comfortable. There are a few other things I can do that might help.”
He looks curiously at Davilla, “Would you like to meet your patient? I can arrange for the two of you to share a dream. It might be easier to talk to her that way since it shouldn’t have the same physical impediments.”
“What do I have to do?” Davilla asks.
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“Bring in a cot and lie down,” Hedrek grins, “and I will do the rest.”
A few minutes later, the women return, panting and red-faced, but carrying an infirmary bed between them. Hedrek directs them to place it so that he can touch both women simultaneously.
Davilla warns him, “Only touch her eyelid. I don’t want to lose you saving her either.”
Nodding, Hedrek agrees, “I will conjure a dream of a peaceful place and put both of you in it. There is a beach near where I grew up that I like to use for this.”
Placing a fingertip on the figure’s eyelid and his hand on Davilla’s forehead, he quickly chants his spell. Davilla finds herself standing on a sun-drenched beach with turquoise blue waves crashing against a white sandy shore. Birds sing and tropical flowers scent the air. Davilla looks around and sees no one, so she starts strolling down the coastline.
Soon enough, a young woman emerges from the froth and starts wading toward the beach. Davilla stops and waits for her to approach. As she gets closer, it’s clear to see that she has a crude wooden spear with a fish twitching on the end of it. It’s not the fish that has her attention, though it’s unfamiliar to Davilla, which is unusual enough in itself. As an herbalist and alchemist, she’s familiar with most species and their uses, even when those uses are only as mundane as dinner. Even inside a dream, the girl is heavily tattooed and nearly naked. A strategically constructed leather harness covers only the most indelicate parts of her. The girl’s eyes narrow as she approaches warily.
Not wanting to offend her, Davilla flops down in the sand and holds her hands out. “Hello again. We can speak more easily like this.”
“Like what?” the girl asks her warily, “Who… oh wait… you’re the healer, aren’t you?”
Looking around carefully, the girl’s face falls, “This isn’t real, is it?”
“Yes, I’m the healer, and no, this isn’t real,” Davilla nods hesitantly, “We’re trying to incorporate the woad as you asked. I have a lot of questions. I don’t even know what to call you. One of our mages thought this might be... easier for you. So that we could ask you how to help you better.”
“I am called Emlyn. The woad will help, but I need food. Gods! I swear that I think I am starving. I was so happy to see the ocean here because I knew I could catch a fish or two and feed myself. I have been so hungry for so long, but all they bring is broth.”
“I will talk to the kitchen right away. I’m not sure what they can do, but I’m certain that they can offer something better than broth for you. Maybe pudding...,”
Davilla promises, “You have been here for so long by now, that you might be right. We will fix that right away.”
“What is that goo you keep putting on me?” Emlyn asks, “It smells terrible, and it makes me woozy.”
“I’m surprised you can smell it. It is a mixture to keep the infections and the pain at bay until we can finish healing you,”
Davilla says, “You’ve given us several scares. The new mixture with the woad in it smells a lot better.”
“I don’t like it at all,” Emlyn shoots back, “It... I’m not sure how to describe it, but I’ll try. It keeps trying to claw its way into my head. I can feel its hunger. It wants to devour me. So far, I have been able to keep it at bay, but I don’t know how long I can continue to do so. Is there anything you can do about whatever is in that stuff?”
“I don’t know,” Davilla sighs, “We had such a time finding anything that worked for you, and we tried so many things. The herbalists at the market think I’m a lunatic for some of the things I’ve bought to test on you... If the woad works half as well as I think it may, we should be able to reduce the amount. As your condition improves, we’ll be cutting them back anyway.”
“Sooner rather than later,” Emlyn replies, “if it’s all the same to you.”
Davilla swallows hard and nods, “Is there anything else?”
“This will sound childish, but it’s lonely. Do you… Do you think someone might come and read to me?” Emlyn asks.
Laughing, Davilla nods, “I am certain that some of the acolytes would much rather sit and read to you than sweep.”
“My turn,” Davilla says, still grinning, “Do you know why the woad works for you?”
Nodding, Emlyn answers, “I do… Partly because it’s inherent to woad. My people use woad for healing because it works so well, even on those without a tattoo or animals. Woad, prepared in another way, is also used to make the ink for tattooing, which is another part of the process. The priests make the ink and seem convinced that the tattoo itself is somewhat magical. I don’t particularly understand that part of it.”
Emlyn eyes the healer, “Surely healers have status, even if they can’t fight. Why aren’t you tattooed? Even enslaved people are tattooed up to the ankle.”
“I’m not sure where you are from,” Davilla replies evenly, “but tattoos are not common here. You are the first person I have ever seen with one.”
Davilla watches as shock, surprise, and some other emotions roll across the girl’s face.
“Where, exactly, is here?” Emlyn asks.
“We are at the main temple of Morrighu in Harito.”
For the next few hours, Emlyn grills Davilla on Harito, the Tassatung Kingdom, which encompasses Harito, and the entire local power structure in as much detail as an herbalist/alchemist knows. In short, all the information the healer can give her about the new place in which she finds herself. The questions range across a wide variety of topics, including military might, language, culture, customs, laws, economics, trading partners, and even foods.
Davilla is stunned by the rapid-fire questions and answers as best as she’s able, but Davilla can tell that she’s not supplying entirely satisfactory answers. Finally, the wizard’s spell starts unraveling. The ocean and the beach start to become somewhat transparent. Davilla finds herself lying on the bed with Hedrek and Vanya watching her expectantly.
“Well,” Hedrek asks, “You were there long enough. Was that helpful?”
“Immensely,” Davilla nods, “So much so that I might want to do it again, but there are a few things to take care of first.”
-
The Resurrection Count: Davilla mentioned she lost track of how many times our girl has been brought back. Most folks take the hint after the first death; Emlyn treats it like a stubborn habit.
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The Woad Innovation: It turns out the blue stuff isn't just for looking fierce in a fight; the patient herself suggested it to help the healing.
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Dream Walking: Hedrek the Wizard decided that if you can't talk to a girl in the waking world because she’s rasping like a gravel pit, you might as well invite yourself into her dreams.
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Culture Shock: In the dream, Emlyn was shocked to find out Davilla isn't tattooed. She even noted that where she comes from, even enslaved people have tattoos up to the ankle!
Spare Change Count:
8 Copper Pellets: Dropped in by acolytes who are just glad they don't have to sweep while they read to the patient.
3 Silver Shavings: Left by Hedrek for the "levitation fee" of moving that heavy infirmary bed.
1 Rusty Fish Hook: Snagged from Emlyn’s dream-spear; she seemed quite keen on catching something better than broth.
Other Contents:
A pair of used protective gloves: Slightly stained with a "goo" that smells like trouble and unidentifiable alchemy.
A scrap of stained bandage: Used to wipe away a test patch that was a bit too "spicy" for the patient's back.
A single turquoise blue pebble: A souvenir from Hedrek's conjured beach.
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