“He states unequivocally that our Chief-to-be fought like a treecat! Indeed, Bili captained the defense.
“Our boy has suffered a nasty split of his scalp and a deep stab in his leg, but he’s now fully awake, obviously experiencing pain, and hungry as a wolf, so I doubt me not that he’ll live.”
A note of sadness then entered the old man’s voice. “The other nobleman is Vahrohneeskos Ahndros. Ahndee is not really conscious and he frequently raves in delirium.”
At Komees Djeen’s insistence, Master Ahlee saw first to Ahndee. After cursory examination, the physician and his apprentice firmly but courteously ushered all, even Mother Mahrnee, out into the corridor. When at some length he allowed them to reenter, Ahndee appeared to be sleeping peacefully and his color showed a marked improvement.
All this gave Bili time to prepare. With the aid of Mother Behrnees and a few servants, he removed his bloody, sweatsmelly clothing, bathed and donned an old, soft lounging tunic. His experience with the practice of the physician’s arts had been in the Middle Kingdoms, whose nobles saw scant need to put good gold, which could be better invested in arms, armor, and condottas, into the bottomless pockets of foreigners. Therefore, although he was ravenously hungry, he refrained from eating.
When the two strangely garbed men entered his chamber, he sat on his bed, propped against a mound of pillows and taking long draughts from a leetrah-flagon of wine and brandy, steeling himself to endure the inevitable, and hoping that his body would not betray his honor- that he would neither scream nor befoul himself when the whitehot iron was pressed into his flesh.
He found the physician impressive, though he did not immediately recognize why. His height was average and Bili would have estimated his weight at perhaps eighty Ehleen keelohs, though his loose, flowing garments could easily have concealed a bulkier body. But Bili did not think this the case, for there was little surplus flesh on the dusky face and his hands were fineboned.
The master and his apprentice were dressed almost identically-loosesleeved, anklelength white robe; sleeve-less, kneelength jerkin of softwoven, pale blue cotton; and well-made boots, plain ones on the feet of the apprentice, richly tooled ones on the master. The shaven scalps of both men reflected the lamplight, that of the master furrowed with old scars.
The master physician literally radiated a calm dignity and Bili found himself addressing him as an equal. “Greet the Sun, Lord Ahlee. It is not my wish to try to teach the horse how to eat grass, but I am no longer bleeding much and my pain is bearable, so tend you first to the noble Ahndee. When his hurts are eased, come you then to me.”
The physician’s voice was deep, rolling, and melodious. “Peace be with you, Lord Bili. We are but come from Lord Ahndee, where we corrected the well-meant damages wrought by those who first treated him. He now sleeps peacefully.”
Bili nodded, set down his flagon, and turned to Mother Behrnees. “Please leave us now, Mother.”
Behrnees opened her mouth to protest, but a deep look into those blue eyes-so like her loved father’s-stilled her voice. And she wanted to cry, to shed tears to mourn the passing of the child and to rejoice the now obvious presence of the man.
“Please, Mother, you must go,” Bili insisted in firm tones. “I know what must now be done, for I have suffered it before. And a wound burning is no place for a lady.”
As Behrnees departed through the door held open by the apprentice, she thought that her heart would burst of her pride.
When his mother had gone, Bili offered a grim smile. “I await your pleasure, sir.” Dubiously, he eyed the two leatherbound chests which the apprentice was opening. “Where is your brazier?”
Master Ahlee seated himself on the edge of Bill’s bed and smiled. “I shall close your wounds in due time, Lord Bili, never fear. But first, tell me how you received these hurts and what varieties of weapons inflicted them.”
Bili raised a hand to tap at the fresh cloths which Mother Behrnees had wound about his head. “The head wound is not much. My helm was struck and dented and the scalp beneath it split. I was struck from behind, so 7 can’t say what kind of missile hit me. But I’ve suffered such injuries many times ere this. You have too, I’d imagine.” He smiled, waving at the scars on Master Ahlee’s own head.
The physician smiled also, saying softly, “No, I am no stranger to the sight of my own blood, Lord Bili. But to continue, did you swoon at the tune of the injury or at any time since? Did you become dizzy or queasy? Did your vision blur? Did you feel a heaviness or a prickling in your arms and legs?”
Bili shrugged. “At the time I took the blow, it was all I could do to sit my horse, nor do I know for how long it was so. I could hear, but I could not move or speak or even open my eyes. But eventually I came back into control of myself, and then Ahndee, Mahvros, and I fought until both Ahndee and Mahvros were wounded. Then…”
“Wait a moment, please, Lord Bili.” The physician looked puzzled. “I was not told of a third casualty. This man, Mahvros, did he return with your party? Do you know how serious is his wound?”
Blankfaced, Bili said, “Yes, Lord Ahlee, Mahvros was beside me for most of the journey. As concerns his wound, he took a javelin in his right shoulder. One of Komees Djeen’s troopers is tending him down in the stables.”
“Lord Bili,” Master Ahlee spoke urgently, “this Mahvros must be removed from the stable as quickly as possible. There are many guest chambers in this hall. Can he not be accommodated in one?”
“No,” said Dili flatly. “His kind are not allowed inside the hall.”
Master Ahlee’s manner cooled noticeably. “If this Mahvros was good enough to fight beside you, surely he deserves better lodgement than a stable! You disappoint me, young sir.”
Bili kept his face blank with great effort. “Where else, Lord Ahlee, do the men of your own land lodge their horses?”
The physician regarded Bill’s twitching mouth and mirth-filled eyes for a long moment, then grinned broadly, chuckling, “When I am done with you, Lord Bili, I shall be happy to take a look at Mahvros … in the stable.”
Bili sobered. “Now that is most gracious of you, Lord Ahlee. I would much appreciate such generosity, for Mahvros and I are … well, we’re closer than you probably could understand.”
The physician nodded. “But I do understand, Lord Bili, and I will certainly see to your friend. Now, back to you. Have you lost consciousness or control since that first time?”
“Only once,” answered Bili. “I unseated a man, threw him off his horse into the stream. But when I mounted his horse, I became very dizzy and couldn’t lift my axe. Then I fell off the horse and I recall nothing more until I awakened in a horse litter.”
Ahlee nodded, then shifted his position and pointed at the bandaged leg. “And how was that wound inflicted, Lord Bili?”
“I don’t know,” Bili admitted. “Honestly, you know how things are in battle. I can’t remember even taking that wound, much less when or where or with what. From the look I got when I bathed though, I’d say a small-bladed spear or a javelin.
“But, Lord Ahlee, let me warn you. I don’t think I can remain unmoving whilst you sear these wounds. It might be better if you strapped me down, or called for servants to hold me … a good dozen men, anyway, for Sacred Sun has given me great strength.”
Ahlee smiled again. “Yes, I am sure you are a very strong man, Lord Bili. But wait.” He extended his right hand over his shoulder, palm open.
Having been busy arranging the lamps, Eeshmaheel, the apprentice, stepped back to one of the opened chests, took something from it, and laid that something in his master’s pink palm.