The two women paled, but otherwise did credit to their stern upbringing.
Vahrohnos Spiros asked in a tight voice, “Be candid, Djeen. How bad are Bili’s wounds?”
A smile flitted across the Komees’s thin lips. “Ladies and Kinsmen, we may all be proud of the lad, according to Bard Klairuhnz here. You do not know him, of course, but he is a clanless Kinsman who took part in the action, until his horse was slain and he was rendered senseless.
“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?”