years under the Empire, worship of the Trinity hasn’t really caught on there.
I’ve investigated the matter, and these women do have proper midwives’ licences.
There’s altogether too much loose talk among laymen about “this priesthood” or
“that particular healer” not being competent. I assure you that the medical
profession keeps very close watch on itself. The worst to be said on the record
– the only place it counts – about the Temple of Heqt here in Sanctuary is that
thirty years ago the chief priest disappeared. Unfortunate, of course, but
nothing to discredit the temple.’
The doctor paused, absently puffing out one cheek, then the other, so that his
curly white sideburns flared. ‘Though I do think,’ he added, ‘that since you
have engaged me anyway, that their midwives might consult with one of my, well,
stature.’
The door between the morning room and the hall was ajar. A page in Regli’s
livery of red and gold tapped the jamb deferentially. The two Rankans looked up,
past the servant to the heavier man beyond in the hall. ‘My lord,’ said the page
bowing, ‘Samlor hil Samt.’
Samlor reached past the servant to swing the door fully open before Regli nodded
entry. He had unpinned his dull travelling cloak and draped it over his left
arm, close to his body where it almost hid the sheathed fighting knife. Northern
fashion, Samlor wore boots and breeches with a long-sleeved over-tunic gathered
at the wrists. The garments were plain and would have been a nondescript brown
had they not been covered with white road dust. His sole jewellery was a neck