Atropa Belladona

Deadly Nightshade

This chapter might be a little technical but bare with me. As always please comment and tell me what you think. I hope you enjoy!

I have done something terrible, maybe the worst thing I have ever done.

I saved a man's life.

Three weeks earlier.........

My mother always said if you saved a life you were responsible for that life forever, she also said that healers live a thousand lives through the people they saved. After years of war with the Ottoman empire I think that I lived ten thousand lives. I was the best healer in the goddess's tent and my lives added up quickly as the war raged on even though I was also the youngest.

"The men heal so they may court you!" My healer sisters always joked.

"Eh men will fall in love with anyone who can sew and cook" I would shoot back referring to my clean stitches and potions. It always got a good laugh until the next batch of men came in bleeding and screaming. Just like the ones shoved into our tent now.

"Ah look more suitors. Time to rob the dark god and keep them for ourselves eh girls?" I would ask earning a small giggle.

A healer never lost her sense of humor. It just got more morbid as time went on.

"I can see a few that could wait a few moments for our attention." Brenda an older healer said with a careful eye. She was a sweet woman but after years of healing and too many wars she could flip a dead man off her table and into the mud without batting an eye.

"W- which one?" Mumbled Clarice not even looking at the wounded.

I sighed. The girl was only four years younger than me but she made me feel ancient, thought to be fair in many ways I was older than my years. I had begun my healers training at the age of five and now fifteen years later I was an old crone in a maiden's body. Clarice was still innocent and shy not good traits in a healer.

"It easy enough to tell all you have to do is smell them." I said hoping to impart some of my wisdom.

"Smell?!" Clarice asked her eyes saying from me to Brenda.

"Yes smell" Brenda confirmed snapping a broken leg back into position. We all waited for the man's scream to die before continuing the lesson.

"You see the smell of a wound can tell you important things" I said pulling out my knife to cut away at an arrow that refused to be pulled through. The man moaned but I was lucky. He had already passed out on the battlefield and probably wouldn’t wake until he was feeling better. I could take my time and josile the wound as much as I liked.

"Take a good whiff and tell me what you smell" I instructed finally getting the mangled arrow out of his body. It looked as if someone had tried to get the arrow out sooner but weren’t any good with a knife.I frowned thinking of who could be treating the men on the battlefield. It sure wasn’t any healer worth his salt.

"I don't smell anything but death." Clarice complained.

"Nonsense. We always get the dead or of here before they start to smell." I joked splashing a garlic and cloves mixture that was sure to help clear out the infection. I wondered if I could manage to get it down him to clean his insides before dismissing the idea. Better to wait for him to wake up before forcing the horrible concoction onto him.

"What am I supposed to smell?" Clarice asked.

"That depends on how you are treating. I am currently treating a man with a terrible infection. If you are a good enough healer out takes just one sniff to realise that half these men had a long journey to the healers tent and four infected along the way while the other half were here in a short time and there wounds are still somewhat fresh." I said taking out my knife again and giving a good clean with boiling water before using it to scrap out most of the infection.