First lessons

by Lina J. Potter

  Henna?

  Lily was excited by the thought. Henna wasn’t just good for hair coloring and body art. It was also a strong disinfectant that could be used on ulcers and wounds. It could even be used as a sore throat remedy. She wondered if they had basma, as well. That came from the indigo plant.

  I’ll have to ask Ali Akhmet about that. The young woman’s question hung in the air. Lily folded her arms. “I was at the market with my people. We saw a bull attack your lord. We brought him here and washed and dressed his wounds. I can tell you right away that he will not be lame. If he follows my orders and you take good care of him, he will soon be good as new.”

  All of the women were overjoyed, except for the youngest. Lily thought she saw a strange expression flicker across her face like a shadow.

  I must have imagined it.

  ***

  Exactly ten minutes later, after giving the women detailed instructions on how to care for Ali Akhmet, Lily walked back into his room.

  “Your time is up. He needs to rest.”

  Judging by the men’s faces, the room had filled with despair while she was gone. Lily hated despair more than she hated even the Health Ministry. She couldn’t stand it when a patient crossed his arms over his chest and prepared to die, mumbling something like “Why bother with treatment? It won’t do any good anyway.” And then the patient’s family would lose hope, too. That made Lily furious. Now, however, she was a Countess, and she could say what she thought, as long as she was careful not to raise suspicions.

  “Din Tahirjian, as your medicus I have to insist. Your family and friends have worn you out. From now on, no more than two people at a time can be in your room.”

  “Woman, can’t you see he’s an invalid?”

  Lily stared at the man who had spoken. He was young, maybe seventeen years old. He hadn’t shaved yet and was carefully growing out a goatee. His robe was embroidered in gold, and there were precious stones on the handle of his saber. Real weapons were never decorated—they spoke for themselves. This saber must be for show.

  She pulled herself up to her full height. No one could speak to her that way. “Call your horse a woman if you know her that well. If you wish to address me, however, you will call me ‘My Lady, Countess Lilian Elizabeth Mariella Earton.’” Lily was surprised at how haughty she could sound when necessary.

  The young man cursed and raised his hand as if to strike her. Lily would have been fine—her plan was to kick him hard—but just then, the Virmans appeared out of nowhere, axes in hand.

  “You will not touch her,” one of them said quietly.

  Lily looked over at her patient. “Din Tahirjian, out of respect for you, I will not have my guards kick this young dog down the stairs, but if he dares to speak to me that way again…”

  She realized the young dog looked surprisingly like her patient. They must be father and son.

  “My Lady,” Ali Akhmet spoke, “please forgive my nephew for his rude behavior. He has never…”

  “Never what? Met a woman who was smarter than him?” She raised one eyebrow.

  Then she edged around the Virmans and went over to Ali Akhmet’s bed to fix his pillows. “I will forgive the boy, but I do not want to see him again. Once you are back on your feet, you can work on improving his character.”

  One of the other men coughed to get her attention. “My Lady?”

  Lily turned. “Yes?”

  “My name is Alim Omar din Rashaya. I am Ali’s assistant.”

  Lily nodded. She wondered that he called her patient by his first name. They must be close. Is this his advisor? “Countess Lilian Elizabeth Mariella Earton. Pleased to meet you. I wish the circumstances were happier.”

  “I agree. My Lady, please forgive me for any impoliteness on my part, I have no wish you offend you.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “Is what you told my Lord the truth?”

  Lily sighed. She felt like a broken record. “Let me explain one more time. Ali Akhmet here was thrown by a bull. He has a wound on his side and a broken leg. I washed, stitched up, and dressed the wound. It is not life-threatening. As for the leg, I know that in your country, it would cause him to be driven from his home.”

  Omar smiled. “That custom is not observed so strictly anymore. But still, a man whose body is injured cannot lead other men. The star mare will not carry an invalid; it would bring misfortune on all of us.”

  So that’s what he’s worried about.

  “The broken leg will not leave him lame. Does no one treat broken bones in your country?”

  “My Lady?”

  “Or do you just let them heal how they will?” Judging by the look on the man’s face, that was exactly what they did. “Our medical knowledge is more advanced. I stretched his leg, aligned the bone and braced it tightly. If he keeps it still, in about fifty days, he will be able to walk again without limping.”

  “Fifty days, My Lady?”

  Lily nodded. “Your Lord must stay in bed. That is an order. You can carry him where you will, but you must prove to me that you can do it correctly. I will tell you how to care for him on the ship.”

  Omar looked like a heavy weight had fallen from his shoulders. “My Lady…”

  Lily raised a hand. “I understand that you have trouble believing me, but you will see. The wound on his side will heal soon. And then his leg will heal. I give you my word. Your lord will be whole. His only memory of this will be an achy leg when it rains.”

  Omar bowed low with his arms folded over his chest. The other men standing in the room did the same, but the nephew shot her a look that was full of hate. He can just grind those teeth at me until they fall out.

  ***

  When she got downstairs, she found Omar sitting at a table and holding a cup of something light-colored. He stood up and bowed again. The nephew was nowhere to be seen. The clutch of women was seated at another table working through a tray of sweets. Din Tahirjian’s bodyguards were nearby.

  Lily sat down at Omar’s table. “Sir, am I correct that you are in charge while Ali Akhmet is recovering?”

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  “Then let’s talk. In about ten days, you’ll be able to move him. He should stay here for now. Do you want to pay the innkeeper’s servants to care for him, or will they do it?” She looked in the direction of the table of women.

  Omar smiled. “They are his wives.”

  Lily frowned. “But…”

  “My lord has three official wives: Leisha, Zalvia, and Suleima. The other three—Lilaka, Talia, and Neelei—are his concubines, but he loves them very much.”

  “Then I suggest you organize them. Have them work in pairs over eight-hour shifts. They won’t have to do much more than bring him water to drink and entertain him with conversation.”

  “I will do that, My Lady. And his bodyguards?”

  “They can stay if you think he needs them. Make sure they understand that I am allowed in his room any time of the day or night.”

  “Even at night, My Lady?”

  Lily squinted. She had made a mistake. It would have to be fixed right away. “He may take a turn for the worse at night. Do his wives have enough experience to react quickly?”

  The man nodded slowly. “I will warn them, My Lady.”

  “Fine. Do you have a medicus on the ship?”

  “Our bosun has some knowledge of healing. He can handle small problems.”

  “Does he have anything he can give your lord for pain?”

  “He does.”

  “Have him send some here as soon as possible. I haven’t had time to buy what I need at the market, and your lord may be in pain for several days.”

  Omar gave a condescending smile. “Pain is nothing to a man.”

  Lily paused. She couldn’t stand it when men pretended not to be bothered by pain. She also knew that untreated pain could cause negative outcomes—even a heart attack. “My friend,” she said coldly, “I know that a real man is supposed to laugh ev
erything off, even a dagger to the gut. But I am also aware that severe pain can slow down the recovery process. So, if you want to see your Lord healthy and happy, forget those old-fashioned ideas.”

  Omar’s eyes flashed. “I’d like to know who taught you the healing arts?”

  Lily shrugged. “My mother was my first teacher. Other teachers were hired for me later. Most knowledge can be had for money.”

  “You are very confident in your skills, My Lady.”

  “Your Lord is not the first person whose leg I have fixed. All of my patients have gone on to walk—and run—just fine.”

  In the end, Omar left the two oldest wives and one bodyguard and, promising to send more people, took the rest of the wives back to the ship. Lily saw the nephew scowl at her as he turned to leave. She couldn’t have cared less.

  I have to check on my patient one last time and go to bed. First thing in the morning, I need to go back to the market, and then I’ll find a regular blacksmith and the glass blower. When that’s all done, I’ll pay another visit to the Baron. So much to do! This job requires two people!

  Chapter 8

  Potions and Plantains

  Anna of Wellster was walking through the forest.

  There were two bodyguards following her, but she was terrified nonetheless. A third guard strode ahead to show her the way. She had a bag of coins tied to the belt of her dress. It was an old dress, and now it was stained with grass, mud, and dew. Her wet petticoats stuck to her clammy legs. Her shoes were soaked, and her feet felt like two blocks of ice. I bet I come down with something after a night like this.

  They reached a clearing, and Anna saw a small cottage. She did not know her father’s lands well, even in the daytime, so she had no idea that there was a village not far away. It was dark, and the trees seemed to grab at her with long, rough arms. She was sure that each of those arms concealed a terrible wild animal or a band of brigands. Or worse…

  She began to shake.

  The guards left her to go through the gate alone. Timidly, she scratched at the door of the old cottage. The door slowly opened, like the jaws of a hungry beast. If Anna had been alone, she would have turned and run away as fast as she could. But the Jester’s guards were just beyond the gate, and the jester was more terrifying than any witch. So, she stood and waited.

  Finally, a voice from inside the dark cottage said, “Come in, whoever you are.”

  The witch was an old woman in a simple, dark dress. She looked like a regular peasant woman, but her eyes were cold and intelligent. Something in them reminded Anna of the Jester. She took a step back.

  The witch smiled. “I suppose you need to get rid of a competitor. And you want a love potion, as well. Am I right?”

  “And some poison!” Anna spoke without meaning to.

  The witch was surprised. “And what else?”

  “I am not a maiden.”

  No further explanation was necessary. “Do you have a vial of blood?”

  “Right now, I just need to get engaged.”

  “Good. If you had come at the last minute, I would not have been able to help you. There is still time. I will give you some powder. Mix one spoonful of it in a pitcher of water and wash yourself down there, where your man had his fun.” She made a vulgar gesture to show where she meant. “In twenty days, you’ll be as tight as a little girl. Any man will believe it. Especially if you smear blood on the sheet at the right time.”

  Anna nodded. “What about..?”

  “I can’t fix that. There’s nothing in the world that will restore your maidenhead. But I can give you a potion that will prevent you from conceiving a child if you take two drops of it every evening.”

  Anna nodded again. “Give it to me.”

  “Do you have enough money, my girl?” Anna’s hand shook as she removed the purse from her belt. The witch took it and shook the silver and copper coins into her palm. She nodded. “Good. Now don’t confuse the potions I am giving you.” The witch began putting together her powders and herbs.

  An hour later, Anna left the cottage carrying the powder for use down there. The contraceptive was in the pocket of her cape. Most importantly, she had a tiny bottle hidden under her blouse. It was icy cold against her body. Two drops—just two drops of it would be enough to kill a person. Anna wasn’t even sure why she asked for the poison, but she would keep it just in case.

  ***

  Adelaide’s cousin, Alex, lay back on the bed and took a sip of wine. He smiled as he watched the candle flicker through the red liquid in his glass. It was a nice wine. The kind he couldn’t have afforded to drink before.

  Adele was smart. She didn’t ask her Earl for money. She just waited for him to give her presents, which he did generously and often. She was constantly losing an earring or accidentally breaking the clasp on a brooch. “Oh my sweet Jess, I’m so clumsy!” she would say. Sweet Jess just smiled. Women tended to lose things. It didn’t bother him. He was an aristocrat with plenty of money.

  Adele certainly was smart, Alex reflected with a smile. His cousin was leaving the next day, so they were catching up on their sleep. She had been packing for days and needed a rest. Alex knew Adele saw Jess Earton as an object of pity saddled with an awful wife. She knew she would make a lovely Countess, and he knew she wouldn’t forget about her cousin; as if Alex would allow himself to be forgotten.

  ***

  By morning, Lily was exhausted. She had gotten up four times in the night to check on her patient. The bosun who supposedly knew something about medicine had shown up the previous evening and left some remedies for Ali Akhmet, but the only really useful item she found was willow bark for pain. There was also a lemon for scurvy and an assortment of powders the bosun claimed to have gotten from a medicus. She supposed most of them were laxatives. To be fair, Lily recognized that sick men didn’t usually do much traveling, so a ship couldn’t be expected to have a full medicine cabinet.

  One of the laxatives was senna. She recognized it by its unpleasant odor. The bosun didn’t know what it was, he just knew that it cleansed the bowels. Good grief! They have all six of his wives on board and not a single doctor. The stomach remedy smelled like licorice, and the powdered herb the bosun claimed was for the heart turned out to be digitalis. There were several other dried herbs she couldn’t readily identify. It wasn’t much of a medicine chest, but since the bosun looked to be worth one regular hospital orderly, she would just have to work with what she had. Lily set aside the pain remedy. Then she squeezed the lemon, boiled its peel and added to it the lemon juice. She gave the concoction to the two wives who had stayed behind and told them to have the patient drink it slowly. The vitamin C would do him good.

  I’ll have to find a fever reducer at the market as soon as it opens.

  Her head pounded, but she washed her face in the icy cold water in her basin, pulled on a clean pink dress and got ready to go.

  ***

  Leif was waiting for her downstairs with five other Virmans. Ingrid approached her timidly. “My Lady?”

  Lily smiled. If she had really been Lilian Earton, the young Virman woman’s beauty would have upset her. But somewhere deep down, Aliya still felt attractive. She remembered her old body. It was strong and young and healthy. Ingrid certainly is gorgeous, but who says I’m not? I’m just different.

  “How do you feel this morning?”

  Ingrid grinned. “Much better. I was just scared for my husband yesterday.”

  “I was scared, too,” Lily admitted. “Very scared.”

  “Leif told me how you healed the man. My Lady, can you teach me to sew up wounds like you do?”

  Lily was surprised. She was about to ask why Ingrid wanted to learn surgery when she remembered that Leif was a warrior. Ingrid was probably worried that they would bring him home in pieces someday and wanted to be prepared.

  “Didn’t they teach you that at home?”

  “No, My Lady.”

  “Do you know how to heal with herbs?”
/>   “A little, My Lady.”

  “Then how about this: you teach me what you know about herbs, and I will teach you what I know about treating wounds.”

  Ingrid’s face lit up. “My Lady, I hope there will be no more bulls on the loose at the market today.”

  Lily almost replied that there would be plenty of asses, but she held her tongue.

  ***

  A few hours later, she was convinced she had been right about the asses.

  There were heaps of herbs for sale: chamomile, plantain, marjoram—they called it honey-herb—thyme, St. John’s wort, fireweed with purple flowers, yarrow, and many others. The tables were loaded with plants she recognized, but as soon as she began picking up bundles, she realized they hadn’t been dried properly and were almost useless to her. I won’t pay these prices for hay when I can cut it myself.

  Ingrid didn’t like the look of the herbs, either.

  Lily knew she had to stock up on herbs to last until she could prepare her own remedies in the fall. In the end, she bought a bag of rosehips, some hawthorn berries, and a giant aloe vera cactus growing in a bucket. Then she moved on to the last table in the row.

  This last table was piled high with neat bunches of dried herbs in excellent condition. The boy behind the table looked hungry. He was about fifteen years old, she guessed, with pale hair that was cut unevenly but surprisingly clean. His clothes were also patched but clean.

  “Do you have plantain?”

  “Yes,” he said, and then added, “My Lady.” It was obviously an effort for him to be polite, but he did it.

  “Show it to me.”

  He reached under the table and pulled out a neat bunch of plantain. Lily gently chafed one of the leaves between her fingers. It had been picked and dried properly. “How much are you asking?”

  “One copper coin for three bunches.”

  Lily narrowed her eyes. “Show me what else you have.” An hour later, Lily was completely satisfied. She had herbs to last her for the coming winter through to spring. Then she would prepare her own. She had even purchased a couple of herbs she had never seen before because the boy was able to give her detailed explanations about how they were used. She liked the boy. He was serious for his age. “You know herbs well,” she praised him.