Of Love and Valor

71: Healers' Station

"That's a good bandaging job," Ansohnya Avizhaisken compliments me over my shoulder. "You're none so out of practice as you would have had me believe."

"I've only ever had instruction in field medicine, Ansohnya. Just patching things up so that the victim will survive to see a healer," I protest modestly. I got bored of just sitting around, and I feared that resting idle would prompt one of the Kazmiohni to give me a task I would find unpleasant, and so I asked her if I could possibly be of any use to her. Since then I've been following her around, wearing a white apron and white headscarf over my Viorzhanim uniform, helping crush herbs and change bandages.

"Field medicine is the basics of what we do in healers' stations, and frankly, many of your compatriots in the Orenzhanim don't bother to learn much of it even passably well."

"To their shame, then. We must do better."

"Zelphinon tells me that you're someone who can make that happen."

My face heats up and I turn away from her, for whatever good that might do; her sharp eyes miss nothing. "He...talks about me, when he's...working with you?"

"Sometimes. He'd rather talk shop, when he can be persuaded to speak. Not much of a conversationalist, Zelphinon. But he's an excellent healer. And he said you're the one who talked the Yrivvior and the Kazmiohni into setting him up as my apprentice."

"Please, Ansohnya...." Don't do this. Just give me things to do.

Ansohnya Avizhaisken laughs at my discomfort. "Modest to a fault. Heavens know we need more of that in this city. But I'll not torture you with more praise. Like as not you'll be getting plenty of that in the days to come. Come along. We've got more wounded to see to." She leads the way between a few makeshift beds with me close behind. My goal is to be invisible to anyone who might get any bright ideas about asking me to help with more interrogations—or with executions.

"Azerai? Is that you?" Thariyae's voice calls, quiet and strained, from somewhere to my right.

"Ah, you know each other," Ansohnya Avizhaisken remarks, abruptly changing course so that we go to Thariyae's bedside. The entire right side of her face is bandaged, but otherwise she seems to be more or less fine. "And how are you feeling, dear?"

"Feels like it's burning, under the bandages, but you said to expect that," Thariyae replies with difficulty. The bandages severely restrict her ability to move her jaw. "Is Azerai your newest apprentice?"

"Only for today, I would guess. I think it's probably about time we changed these bandages. Are you comfortable doing that on your own, Azerai?"

"Just an ashka cleanse before the new bandages? Or should more be done?" I inquire.

"See how it looks. You might need some of this in addition to the ashka." Ansohnya Avizhaisken hands me a small jar of the herbal blend she uses to counteract the poison left by Erivim blades. "But I trust you can handle it. And the two of you can chat while you work without me getting in the way. Just don't move your jaw too much." With a finger wag of warning, the master healer turns and scuttles away, off to check on other patients under her care.

"And here I've been worried Zelphinon would end up treating me," Thariyae mutters as I gently begin to unwrap the bandages from her face. "I never expected to see you in here. Figured the Kazmiohni would have more important things for you to be doing."

"They might, but I...seem to have lost my taste for battle. They sent me here to rest," I explain.

"And so you've decided to help the healers instead."