Phobia ☤ Alexios

twelve: first do no harm

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ZEUS UNLEASHES HIS wrath upon the morning sky in a flash of white light followed by the roaring crackle of thunder. In the wake of Zeus' anger, the Hyades beckon the assuaging pitter-patter of raindrops. The two somnolent travelers break and pack their small camp in the downpour.

They've ridden since daybreak through inclement weather and the approaching gates of Argos paired with slivers of blue sky are a welcome sight. They leave Phobos to rest at the gatehouse stables. "Follow me," Irene says, glancing over her shoulder. Finding Hippokrates' clinic would be easy even for a person who has never seen Argos before. All one had to do is follow those who were sick or injured.

Scores of sick and wounded -both soldiers and civilians- are waiting to be seen by Hippokrates. Others have no room in the main clinic and lay beneath tarpaulins, shielded from the wind and rain. Irene has never seen this many waiting patients before. Several novice healers tend to patients, but Hippokrates is not among them. Among the apprentices is Sostratos –he received his initial instruction under Theophilus in Athens with Irene before departing to seek greater knowledge.

A beldame is confronting Sostratos about something –her croaking voice is both hushed and raised. "Bitter old crone," Irene remarks as the Priestess of Hera leaves the clinic in haste, pushing past her and the Eagle Bearer.

The apprentice shifts his attention to Irene and Alexios, and his trepidatious expression fades, slipping back into a more aplomb composure. He maneuvers through the patients and greets Irene and her companion with a friendly smile. "Chrysis believes Hippokrates methods anger the gods and has accused him of impiety," he confides.

"We need to speak to him. Where is he?" Irene questions, looking around the crowded clinic.

"Near the Cave of Pan," Sostratos answers. Hippokrates had left several days ago to set up a clinic to treat those the Sanctuary of Asklepios had refused. Alexios and Irene exchange looks –they both know where they must go next. The princess thanks Sostratos and follows the Eagle Bearer back to the gatehouse stables.

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ATOP A HILL to the southwest of the Heraion of Argos people are gathered before the entrance to one of Pan's caves. Alexios pulls back on Phobos' reins as they set up the winding road –passing a throng of weary travelers. "I thought they were exaggerating when they said people came from all over to see Hippokrates," he comments. Irene glances back at him and shakes her head. She has heard stories of people traveling from Egypt to seek out the famed physician's help.

The princess stops Alexios before he can interrupt the physician's description of the sacred disease and his proposed remedy. Hippokrates does not speak of the god's ill-will, but of impoverishment -proper meals and rest can help cure those not yet beyond his ability to save. A far cry from what the priests and priestesses would tell the sick. "Challenging traditions," Alexios notes, crossing his arms, "you must be Hippokrates."

"Yes," the physician answers, vexed by the interruption. "I am also very busy."

"We won't take you away from your patients for long," Irene amends.

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Hippokrates turns from his workstation, disbelief overtakes his consternation. "Irene!" He greets. She pushes forward the wrapped parcel from the Argos clinic and he accepts the supplies and tools with an appreciative nod. "What brings you here?" He inquires. The physician knows Irene is not here for sickness. She's perhaps the only person he has ever met that has never even caught a mild case of the sniffles. Their last encounter had been by chance, and he'd stitched a wound beneath her arm closed.