Medice Ceres

Chapter 48

Waithe pushed the weathered wooden shutter open a crack and peeked out the window of the small log cottage, one of several that lined a muddy road not far from the inner-city clinic. The sun had nearly dipped below the horizon and shadows began to overtake the buildings.

"We be watched."

Ceres jerked around. "Who? Scias' men?"

"I think not. More likely some from one of the resistance groups, whatever they may call themselves. The young man who led us here, Clavis his name, be it? I think he be one of them. And the doctor, he be at least sympathetic to the cause."

"What would they do?"

"For now, just watch. Confusing it must be to them to have a Lady of the Order suddenly appears to offer healing services." Waithe quartered an apple with his knife and offered two slices to Ceres. "Amazing were you today, my dear daughter. Many did you heal. Tomorrow, many more will be in need. Know I that in your good heart you would wish to heal everyone, but it drains you and I must ask that you pace your efforts. A healer that collapses from exhaustion benefits none."

She dipped her head. "Thank you, my protector. I shall rely on your wise counsel."

"Oh, and be wary of Galen. I think he woos you."

Ceres lifted her eyebrows. "He is just appreciative of my assistance. Why would he court me?"

Waithe shook his head. He had noticed how the doctor would position himself near her, how often he would touch her in seemingly innocent ways, and his glowing praise throughout the day, sometimes laced with subtle double meanings. All this was done with a charming smile and a gleam in his eyes. During dinner, he sat close to her and was quick to offer more fine wine. Ceres seemed to enjoy the attention, although innocently so.

"My dear daughter, true he be appreciative of your work, but you be a beautiful young woman. A man like him takes pride in the art of seduction."

Her eyes grew wide. "Father, I would not!"

"Aye, daughter. Your heart be good. At some point, though, you may need to enforce your boundaries."

Ceres seemed to stare off in thought, then tilted her head with a smirk. "How is it, my dear Father, that you seem to know so well of these things?"

*****

The morning light revealed the clinic. It was within easy walking distance from the cottage Waithe and Ceres shared, one of many ramshackle wooden houses on a rutted road, some on the verge of collapse. The only plant life were some weeds and a few small fenced gardens that struggled in soil that should support a much richer flora. Dirty barefoot children played near the side of the road, blissfully unaware of the poverty that surrounded them. Not far down the road a metals foundry belched dark smoke, the lingering haze that cloaked the neighborhood scratched Waithe's throat.

The weathered porch creaked as the young man escorting them pulled on the door, which wobbled on the loose hinges. An unruly mop of brown hair spilled out as Clavis pulled the dusty cap from his head and motioned them inside.

Scattered coughing and wheezing revealed the people within before Waithe's eyes adjusted to the relative darkness. Ceres' jaw dropped as she spun around. The clinic consisted of essentially one room with two closets in the back corners. Perhaps fifteen people lined the front walls, some on benches and some sitting on the floor. Others laid on bedrolls arranged in orderly rows across the center of the room. The place smelled of sickness.

An older woman in a healer's grey smock strode towards them. A strip of frayed cloth tied around her white hair held it off of a thin face with a few wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. Some might define her thin small stature as frail, but the mettle in her mannerisms suggested she was anything but. At once Waithe felt a respect for her. The eyes of this woman must have seen much suffering and despair here, yet they conveyed charity and were anything but fragile.

Ceres pulled her head back as the woman's eyes blazed at her. The woman spoke in a husky tone, again defying her stature. "You the healer Galen sends? It be 'bout time."

Ceres pulled back her hood. "Aye, ma'am. My name is Ceres. I would assist..."

The woman interrupted her as the mark on Ceres' neck was revealed. "So, you be of the Order?"

"Aye, ma'am."

She slung her arm behind her. "Set up in the back and let's see what you can do. Oh, call me Gracie, better that than most of the other names I've been called."

Waithe's grin snapped away as Gracie's eyes swung to him. She pointed a finger. "And you, smiley, make yourself useful and fetch some water."

Waithe returned with two buckets of water drawn from a communal well behind the rows of houses. He emptied one into a pot suspended above a smoldering coal fire behind the clinic. Carrying the other inside through a weathered back door, he poured it into a large metal basin. Gracie motioned him over and then set him to task grinding a mixture of medicinal herbs in a large stone bowl. He smiled to himself, this will be a day of work.

Ceres sat on the floor next to a spindly man who struggled with every breath, sometimes erupting in a spasm of raspy coughs. Many of the patients here had breathing problems. She closed her eyes. An umber light appeared and pulsed above her, the Life Spirit Myr.

The sudden appearance of a Spirit caught every eye in the room. All watched as a cloud of shimmering Magic appeared before Ceres and descended on the man. Waithe listened to the hushed whispers, speculating as to who this Shaman was and why had she come here among the lower classes. As before, a vision of Ceres' past came to Waithe, but this time he pushed it aside to stand ready should any hostile reaction come from these people.

The Magic faded away and Ceres helped the man stand. A wide smile took over his face as he put a hand to his chest and pulled in a deep clear breath. Ceres delivered the man to Gracie and then sat down next to a young woman holding a toddler. The young boy put on a faint smile between coughs as his eyes followed the Spirit Myr circling above.

Waithe caught Ceres' eye and pointed up. She nodded in response with a shrug. The Spirit Phy's green light appeared next to Myr's umber light. Phy wanted in on the action, all to the delight of the young boy. Again, shimmering white lights of the Magic appeared.

Waithe listened as closely as he could to the scattered murmurs as he continued to grind the herbs: "She calls the Spirits..."; "Her name be Ceres, I heard her say it..."; "...the mark, a Lady of the Order..."; "...the one in the tales?"; "She comes here for us!".

Ceres came over and put a hand on Waithe's shoulder. "So she put you to work as well?"

"Aye, I dared not say no."

Ceres bent down and took a whiff of the fragrant herbs. "I know these, medicinal herbs to help with breathing and to fight disease. I noticed most of those here have sickness of the lungs."

She placed her hands over the bowl and looked up at Phy's green light above. A dusty white shimmer filtered through her fingers and settled into the herbs. "An enhancement of Life Magic..."

Gracie shoved a large metal teapot into Waithe's hands. "You there! Get busy! Put the herbs in here and fill it with hot water."

Waithe grinned and bowed with a melodramatic flourish. "It be my honor to serve, my Lady."

She narrowed her eyes to a gaze that cut through Waithe but spoke to Ceres. "Is he always this obstinate, or does he make special effort for me?"

Ceres put a hand to her smirking mouth. "He has his moments." She then pulled her hand back. "Gracie, this be Waithe, my protector and my father."

The old woman grasped Ceres' hand and lowered her head. "So very sorry, my dear." She turned and dashed off to direct a new patient.

Waithe grinned as he shook his head while Ceres smirked at him. "If insults be arrows, I would be dead on the floor."