Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Days sprawled out into weeks as Rebecca shifted into her new role at Gealladh as the clan’s healer. Her predecessor had sent word that he had decided to retire and stay with his family rather than return to the clan, which prompted Tair to offer her the position.
“You neednae look after the MacRune. We dinnae grow ill, and near all our injuries heal within hours,” he told her over breakfast one morning.
“Our vassals need only minor doctoring now and then. All birthing females leave our service to live with their families in the village, and they’ve a midwife there to attend them. ”
The temptation to instantly accept grabbed Rebecca, but she knew she had to point out a few things that the laird didn’t understand.
“You should know first that I’m a doctor of physical therapy, my lord, not a medical doctor,” she told him.
“My expertise is in helping people to regain and improve their ability to move and function, and cope with related pain. I have a fair amount of first aid and trauma treatment knowledge, but I’m by no means an expert.
Your people also might be more comfortable with a healer from this time. ”
“Bollocks,” Lucy said pleasantly. “You know more about safe and sanitary medical practices than the old healer, plus you’re familiar with herbal medicines, which is all we have in this time.
Our vassals are comfortable with you already, which they wouldn’t be with a stranger. You’re better than perfect.”
“All right, if you’re willing to let me try, I’d be happy to serve as the clan’s healer.” She smiled. “Can someone give me a tour of the infirmary?”
“I shall, if I may, my lady,” Lochran, the day-blind Chief of the Night Watch, said to her. “The old healer bid me gather herbs from the forest for him, and I ken where he kept most of his tinctures and blends.”
Tair nodded his agreement. “He has naught more to do until dark.”
Rebecca had the sense that the chief had other motives, but since she had moved into Dorchad’s quarters everyone seemed curious about their relationship. She knew she had to protect the chieftain’s privacy, for what happened between them was no one’s business.
“Of course,” she told Lochran. “Thank you for offering.”
After the meal he escorted her to the infirmary, which was tucked away in a quiet passage not far from the chieftain’s quarters. Rebecca noted the way that the blindfolded man walked with confidence through the stronghold as if he’d memorized every inch of it.
“You’ve accomplished a great deal in learning to live with your hemeralopia, Chief,” she said after he deftly avoided two maids carrying ash buckets downstairs. “Have you ever sought any type of treatment for your condition?”
“Other than this.” He tapped the linen bandage covering his eyes.
“I went to the magic folk to ask if they had some potion or spell to shield my eyes. They had none. My weakness perplexed them, as they believe I should be blinded by all light. Yet fire, candle, moon and starlight dinnae affect me, only sunshine.”
“It’s probably the UV rays,” Rebecca said, and when he frowned briefly explained how sunlight’s ultraviolet radiation differed from the other forms of light. “You’re likely hypersensitive to it, so your blindness is a kind of automatic bandage your body puts over your eyes.”
“’Tis an interesting notion.” He stopped in front of the door to the infirmary, tapped on it and then opened it. “I’m entering with Healer McIan,” he said as he stepped over the threshold. “Show yourself.”
Rebecca was surprised to see Sheona step out from behind a rack, and then her gaze shifted. “You’re hurt.”
“No’ gravely, my lady.” The maid stared at Lochran as she tried to hide her hands behind her. “I but wished to find some salve to put on my palms.”
“Let me help.” Sensing the girl didn’t want to be touched, she gestured toward a stool by the worktable. “Please, sit.”
Lochran went over to one of the racks of pottery and small boxes, and brought back a crock sealed with beeswax. “’Tis the healer’s burn balm,” he told Rebecca.
She pried off the wax and sniffed the amber salve inside the crock, which smelled herbaceous, floral and sugary sweet.
“Yarrow with something calming like lavender, I think.” She put a small dab on the back of her hand, noting the slight stickiness. “The base is honey, which can also help heal minor burns. May I apply some to your hands before I bandage them?”
Sheona reluctantly extended her arms, and Rebecca frowned as she saw soot marks on her skin and the singeing on the cuffs of both of her sleeves.
“We should wash the burns first, if that’s all right?” As the maid nodded she went and poured some water into the washstand basin, and grabbed a soft cloth before bringing it over to the work table.
“How did you injure yourself, lass?” Lochran asked her.
“’Twas when I visited my mam in the village,” Sheona said, sounding sullen now. “She bumped into me as I added wood to the hearth, and I fell into the fire, burning my hands on the embers.”
What she described would have resulted in far worse burns, Rebecca thought as she gently washed the maid’s hands.
These were more likely from flames burning close to the skin.
Sheona probably had her reasons for making up the lie.
From the way she kept nervously glancing at Lochran, part of that might be not wanting him to know.
“Chief, it’s going to take a while for me to treat her, so please, don’t let me keep you idling here,” Rebecca said, hoping he would take the hint.
“Of course, Healer. If you’ve any questions, come to see me in my tower. Be careful and rest, lass,” he said to Sheona, and then left the infirmary.
As soon as the door closed Sheona sighed and her shoulders slumped. “My thanks, Healer.”
“You’re welcome.” If the maid wanted to confide in her about the real cause of her injuries she would, but Rebecca still wanted to let her know that she could keep her mouth shut.
“In my time, healers are not allowed to talk about their practice to anyone without the permission of their patients. I plan to do the same here.”
“And if the chieftain commands you tell him?” Sheona gave her a rather snide look. “You serve him as his bed wench now. ’Tis worse than being a hoor, for at least they earn coin on their backs.”
“Who says I stay on my back?” she chided gently.
“And to answer your question, no, I wouldn’t tell my lover, even if Dorchad orders me to.
When I became a doctor I swore an oath that includes a promise to respect the privacy of my patients.
The reason they disclose their problems to me is not something for the rest of the world to know.
My loyalty to you comes before my loyalty to the chieftain. ”
For a moment Sheona looked as if she might start crying, and then she blinked hard and looked away. “You’re a fool, then.”
“Probably.” After applying the sticky burn salve she used some clean linen strips to loosely bandage the maid’s hands.
“Try to keep your hands dry, and come back and see me in the morning so I can change these bandages. You’re not to do any more work until these burns heal.
I’ll speak to Seneschal about excusing you from your duties. ”
“Shall you bathe and feed me as well?” Sheona asked, sniffing loudly.
“If you’d like me to, I will,” Rebecca said with a straight face. “Or you can ask one of your friends to help.”
“I’ve no friends here, Healer.” The maid flounced out, slamming the door behind her.
After tidying up Rebecca did a brief inventory of the infirmary’s stocks, and then went downstairs to find Sgathan. Dorchad’s twin was at the back passage unloading a cart laden with split wood, which he handed off to some clansmen tossing it inside a huge open-sided shed.
“Can I have a word with you, please, Seneschal?” Rebecca asked, and then stepped back as he swung around as if he meant to club her with the length of oak in his hands. “If you’re busy, of course–”
“’Tis fine.” He tossed the wood to the men before escorting her away from the cart and back into the stronghold. He then stared at the wall next to her. “What do you want now, Healer?”
His charming reputation was going to become tarnished if he kept talking to her like she was a nuisance, Rebecca thought. “Sheona, one of the maids, is injured. Because of her wounds she won’t be able to work for a week or two.”
“The lazy slut hurt herself again?” He threw up his hands as if at the end of his rope. “Mayhap ’tis time for her to go to the town brothel and earn her keep there.”
In that moment Rebecca understood why Lucy so disliked Sgathan, who despite his handsome looks talked like a complete jerk.
“This young lady will need some assistance with taking care of herself until she recovers,” she said through slightly gritted teeth, “so if you would spare a maid to help her, I’d appreciate it.”
His jaw tightened. “You reckon you’ll become seneschal as well as the clan’s healer, then?”
“I’m sorry. I was told that you MacRune don’t abuse your vassals here.
Was that untrue?” As he made an impatient gesture she drew on the last of her patience to explain better.
“Look, Sheona has second degree burns on her hands, which are blistered, so she can’t work until they heal.
Or you can keep forcing her to, in which case her wounds will probably become septic on top of her suffering a great deal of pain.
Actually, no, I’m not going to let you do that.
If you can’t spare anyone then I’ll look after her myself.
She doesn’t work again until I give her permission. Do you understand me?”
Sgathan finally met her gaze. “You wish challenge my rule over the household, wench?”