Previously In The Exilewas a really long ago and I'm really, really sorry. Life just got too real. Anyway things are more settled and I hope you guys will continue this journey me. Please share with your friends, thank you for all your support and reviews. Now Previously in The Exile:

"Do you-" Arthur meet the other's man's eyes. "Do you think you should have opposed him?"

"Yes." Ambrose answered with such firmness that Arthur knew he'd given this much thought.

"Much suffering, even yours would have been prevented and I would have spared you, raised you alongside Aikat and the others."

Arthur let his eyes follow the whirling dance of the fireflies.

"You will set Aikat to oppose me if I continue the persecution of magic won't you?"

Ambrose didn't say anything, yet he didn't have to.

"Deal firmly with Morgana," Ambrose said. "Aikat does not yet know of her heritage, she has no greater ambition than knighthood for now. Make magic legal and you'll have my support, Rhosyn's, Aikat's and all of our allies. I've had seventeen years to put this plan together nephew mine. It was to be Uther we opposed, but if you persecute magic we will oppose you." ...Chapter 28 Dance of the Fireflies

"But mom are you- are you turning against me?"

"Merlin," for a moment her eyes softened. "if you think that your decisions have been on the side of right then I don't have to turn against you, we were never on the same side."

Merlin felt his stomach bottom out and his throat tightened. He looked down, no longer able to face her. After a moment he heard her steps moving away from him and the thud of the door shutting.

When he looked up it was to see the setting sun out the window, it painted the sky and clouds brilliant hues of fire before dropping below the horizon. The stars came out, the moon rose. He thought about lighting the lantern and tried and failed. He concentrated reciting the simple spell perfectly and nothing happened. He did it again no power stirred, there was nothing. He did it a fourth time, fifth time and still nothing. He tried the first magic he understood. Moving objects with his mind, he couldn't so much as lift a pin. Sitting alone in the dark Merlin realized Lord Troy was right. His magic was dead, this was fate's reaction...Chapter 27 Fate's Reaction

"Ms. Jen, Father Flaejer wanted to tell you himself, but I asked for the honor. You, Jenafere, are Wyeledon Hostel's newest physician assistant." Ms. Alfonsa passed her a letter bearing the hostel's seal even as Luisa poured them goblets of wine and her friends broke out into applause.

Gwen broke the red waxen seal and started reading aloud.

"I start in 12 days time, in that time I should get two white canvass smocks and a linen cap to match and—I got the job!" Gwen exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

She looked up from the letter and saw everyone smiling at her...Chapter 26 A Perfect Fit


Dr. Gwen, Medicine Woman

Wind blew through the second story windows of the townhouse, warm with summer heat, and heavy with the tang of ocean salt. Sweet, warm ocean zephyrs entered through open windows, soothing skin dampened by humidity. Swirling through the townhouse, tugging on hair,pulling on the light weight cotton of kirtles and dresses, tipping over ribbon stands, unlit candles, pulling at scarves, and shawls and turning up the edges of bedding. It was mid-summer in Wyeledon.

Guinevere pinned a windswept curl into place and began coiling her waist length braid oton the back of her head. Both Ylsa and Pradeep had made clear the importance of covering the head when working with medicine, food, or anything to be consumed by the sick. If he asked her to prepare any medicines she wanted to be ready.

"Ylsa how is my hair?"

The midwife gave her a quick appraising glance and smiled.

"Not a curl out of place. You look perfect."

"Thank you," Gwen said uncertain of her feelings about this new severe look.

"But it makes you look old," Kerenza remarked giving voice to Gwen's thoughts.

Gwen frowned poking her lips forward.

"Older physicians are far more respected than younger ones." Ylsa quipped as she tied a ribbon around her twist.

"I think its nice," Synove said tone thoughtful. "Let us see you with the cap and the physician's smock."

Gwen pulled the loose fitted physician's smock on over her dress and then fitted the matching cap over head.

"Mhmmm, yes" the bard said. "You look very serious. If you told me to drink something hideous and foul tasting I would do it." Synove ended with a smile and a nod.

Ylsa and Kerenza giggled.

"Synove has the right of it," Kerenza said. "I would take any medicine you told me to drink."

"Have a look at yourself," Synove said handing Gwen her polished bronze hand mirror.

Guinevere looked at her reflection and a grin broke out over face.

She schooled her expression into one of seriousness and saw not harshness, but formality, assurance, competence, and confidence, serious dark eyes that might even command a king to take his medicine. But delight and pleasure won out again as a grin emerged to capture her face.

"Good lord look at her."

Guinevere started sheepishly perhaps she had been gazing a little too long.

"Giving her the mirror was a mistake," Kerenza shook her head and walked out of the room

"You look perfect," Ylsa said. "Now come along or you'll be late."

She gave her reflection one last smile before giving the mirror back to Synove and heading down to breakfast.

At breakfast Ms. Alfonsa announced a party they were having for the Hospice patrons. She expected Gwen's attendance and offered her a dress to refashion. The morning chatter and breakfast activity went as it usually did. When their fast was broke rather then staring at her empty plate, Guinevere was grabbing her lunch and summer cape with the rest of her housemates and heading out the door.


"You know Ylsa I have to thank you for your good counsel."

"I am certain my advice was perfect, but what was it?" The midwife released her arm to drop a coin in the cup of a beggar.

"You advised me not to take the maid job, don't you remember."

"Oh yes you're much too smart to be a maid," Ylsa said shaking her head.

"I don't know if should be complimented or insulted." Guinevere looked askance at her friend. "I worked as a lady's maid for many years and it does require a certain intelligence." Gwen sniffed as she finished.

"Well let me put it this way, your intelligence is wasted cleaning up behind a bunch of people who think they are too good to do it themselves, simply because they were lucky enough to be born into families with wealth and titles," Ylsa rolled her eyes.

Gwen pursed her lips, thinking of how kind a mistress Morgana had been in those early years, but even then the noblewoman had deemed some tasks beneath her and later….

"There is no difference betwixt anyone of us, inside or out. I know, I've looked." The midwife said this with a firmness that Gwen could not bring herself to challenge if she wanted.

"When I was a child I heard so much about how special my heritage was and the heritage of the noble families we served, but no matter how much I looked I could find no difference between myself and the poorest, most ignorant, farmer." Ylsa shook her head. "No difference between an infant born to the highest most refined queen or the lowliest scullery maid. The difference comes in what happens after," Ylsa finished.

The two women walked in silence for a while. There were more people in the streets now, some moving at a more leisurely pace.

"Ylsa is there some, something with Synove and Adras," Gwen asked recalling the way Synove had asked about Adras after Ms. Alfonsa had announced the party.

"Why do you ask?" The midwife questioned in return.

"Well Synove is always interested in everything Adras does, but when I had to go with Adras to the fabric market she refused to accompany us, it seemed strange."

"Hmmm well," Ylsa looked thoughtful for a moment. "It happened when Synove first came to Wyeledon. She was delivered to Ms. Alfonsa's by her brother. She came from a distant country nobility. Though she was excited to come here she was not at all," Ylsa paused considering her next word. "She was not worldly. Ms. Alfonsa arranged a position for Synove at Adras' salon. They became very chummy at first and then suddenly they would not speak with one and other. After that Synove got a new position and criticized Adras' unorthodox and mannish lifestyle almost constantly for about the better of a year, and then just as suddenly stopped talking about her altogether."

"Oh did they…"

"I assume so. I've only ever seen Synove with female companions, not like Adras mind you, more delicate types like yourself."

Gwen felt her face grow hot, but Ylsa went on.

"That was perhaps two years ago. I think there was some falling out about Adras' lifestyle and now maybe she regrets it. But Adras won't give her a second look."

"Oh."

Gwen remembered Synove's prudish response to Gwen asking about Adras when she'd first arrived in Wyeledon.

The two women rounded a corner and the townhouses and gave way to one and two story peasant homes with little family shops like candlers and cobblers and old churches. The hospice wasn't far now, just moments way.

"This is where we separate my friend." Ylsa said. "You are going to do excellently."

The two women shared a hug and Gwen felt a stirring of unhappiness akin to how she felt whenever Elyan would walk with her to the palace for work. He would give her a hug, a tight squeeze, and then head off down the stairs.

"Thank you Ylsa."

"You're welcome Gwen." Ylsa crossed the street and soon disappeared into the crowd.

When she was gone Guinevere took a deep breath. This was no palace position, serving at the beck and call of every nose-in-the-air noble who might cross her path. This was work that she had studied and fought for and she was ready. Mimicking the determined stride of the palace noble women when they wanted something Guinevere headed to work.

Gwen knocked lightly on the door as she poked her head into Pradeep's office.

"And here is the woman of the hour, Ms. Jenafere," Physician Pradeep, dark hair covered by a cap akin to her own, looked up from his mortar and pestle. "Please come in."

"Physician Pradeep, Nurse Owena good morning."

The head nursed nodded a greeting.

"Good morning, have a seat Ms. Jenafere," Pradeep said and motioned toward the chair beside Owena.

She entered, but he stopped her before she could sit and studied her appearance for a moment before nodding.

"Your robe and cap look good. Let me see the back of your head for a moment."

Pleased that she had anticipated this Gwen did as asked.

"Good, very good. Please sit down."

Gwen did as he asked.

"Ms. Ylsa has waxed on and on about the importance of securing and covering the hair while preparing treatments," Owena explained, the head nurse's pale blond hair was also covered.

"I do live with her," Gwen said with a wink and both laughed.

As always the strong scent of clove and watermint hung in the air, but here it mingled with the ever-present earthy scent of a garden after rainfall, that Pradeep's many plants created. Gwen took a deep breath enjoying the blend of fragrances, the air redolent with an unfamiliar invigorating scent that she thought must come from whatever the physician was mixing.

"So Ms. Jenafere you are already familiar with the routine here," Pradeep said turning his eyes back to the treatment he was preparing. "While I visit our patients Nurse Owena will be getting you settled tomorrow you will accompany me on my rounds."

Owena gave her a small nod.

"When she has done with that she will bring you to the reception room and our work will begin."

"I am most eager to start."

"Very well," Owena said. "Let us begin now." The other woman stood and Gwen did the same.

"These are your keys," Owena handed her a large key ring with several keys of dark, cast iron, each the length of her finger, and they headed out of Pradeep's office.


The keys were cold and heavy in her hands. Gwen let her fingers trace the iron loops, and edges and Owena explained them as they walked. There were five keys on the ring, each marked with thick heavy threads of different colors. Two were keys to hospice doors front and back, one for medicines like brandy and dwale*, another for the surgery, and the hospice still.

When Arthur had been prince he had held the keys to the palace and all their important secrets. Now she would bear a similar responsibility

"We shall test the keys as we go," Owena said when they reached the first floor.

Owena took her to the few rooms she had never been in; they started with a little room off the kitchen, where hospice staff stored their belongings in assigned cabinets. Like Pradeep, Owena, and Mary, Gwen was given a full length cabinet, though she would have to provide her own lock if she wanted it.

"Did you bring your lunch?"

Gwen nodded.

Owena looked thoughtful for a moment as the sound of plates and pots clanging against tables and counters came from the kitchen.

"They are late serving breakfast." The larger woman muttered and then sighed. "The still is on the other side of the kitchen, but I think we'd just be in the way in there now. Hopefully by the time I've shown you the surgery they will have finished serving breakfast."

Gwen nodded more than a little curious about the hospice surgery. Typically surgery was the domain of barbers while physicians were left to their medicines. The two worked together sometimes with physicians providing medicines after surgery, but a physician who performed surgery was an uncommon thing. Thankfully she had never yet had a need of surgery, dentistry, nor even seen the inside of a barber's shop.

The stories she'd heard of the bleeding, cutting, and sawing, soured and twisted her stomach. Gwen couldn't imagine a physician like Gaius or herself doing such a thing.

Owena lead her down another of the hospice's wood paneled corridors to a pair of heavy looking locked doors.

"We are still in the back of the hospice," Owena said. "This is directly beneath Physician Pradeep's office."

"Oh, why is it so far from everything else?"

"Surgical instruments are expensive they are safe from vandals back here."

"Oh." Gwen said wondering how great a concern that was.

"Test your key, it's the red one," Owena said.

She did as the head nurse said, jiggling the key a moment before the lock shifted. The large heavy doors opened slowly, the familiar clove-watermint fragrance wafting out as the doors opened, as strong as she had ever smelled it. Gwen peered into the dark room feeling for a moment as if she were peering into a pit, but then her eyes adjusted and she made out the outline of a few humps in the darks. Owena however seemed to know the place well.

She went to a corner, pulled a cord and drew the curtains.

Late morning summer sun light poured into the western windows of the room illuminating a long table with straps, the wooden system of slats, pulleys and ropes. She could see where one might place an arm or a leg while the surgeon turned the pulleys tightening the slats around the broken limb to keep a patient in traction while the plaster packed around their injury hardened.

"Is it very painful?" Guinevere asked resting one hand on the operating table and imaging patient having to be strapped down.

"Bone setting is not so bad, but an amputation…the screams," Owena sucked her breath and shook her head.

"But how is it that Pradeep even performs surgery?"

"It is unusual, but after introducing Ylsa's cleaning practices our outcomes are simply better," the other woman smiled.

"But surely Physician Pradeep has trouble with the barbers* in the city," Gwen asked?

"He did until the previous winter." The other woman paused letting that mysterious bit of information hang in the air betwixt them.

"What happened?"

"I suppose it is a harmless bit of gossip," she smiled again. "It was not an actual surgery. A carpenter came to us after seeing Barber Bertmund. Barber Bertmund had recommended amputation for a broken finger that had not been set right away and showed signs of infection. The man was carpenter losing the finer would mean he no longer had work, income so he came here." Owena sighed. "Pradeep reset the finger and cleared up the infection." Here the other woman paused her pale eyes bright with good humor. "I think normally Pradeep might have recommended amputation too, but there had been lots of angry barbers knocking on the door of late and he wanted to make a point."

"The patient could very well have lost the entire hand and he spent a great many days in pain, but the finger was saved and set so well it was almost as if the break never happened. The barber who'd recommended the amputation was of course angered and he actually challenged Pradeep to a fight."

Gwen felt her eyes widen. Professional rivalry could be serious, but if it came to violence it usually resulted in alleyway knifings or quick beatings, open challenges were rare.

"Well it was an embarrassment for him," Owena said tone sympathetic. "More embarrassment was yet to come. Pradeep nicked a major artery during their duel and then stitched him up in this surgery."

"Oh no!"

"Oh yes!" Owena's eyes brightened again. "No infection resulted, the arm works as well as it ever did."

"So what happened after that?"

"Sufficiently humbled Barber Bertmund hired a young woman to clean up his shop, and sent her here to be trained. I hear that they are married now." Owena said offhandedly and Gwen chuckled.

"I suppose it all came to the best then."

"Indeed. You will learn how to use the tools here in time, but for the moment you need only know that we can set broken limbs, do trepanning for head wounds, amputations if necessary, and in some cases remove the appendix or gallstones."

"Remove organs?"

"Sometimes organs can become infected just as a hand or a foot, if the infection spreads from the organ to the blood the outcome is surely death."

She felt gooseflesh rise on her arms.

"They should be done serving breakfast now. Let us put away your lunch, and I'll show you the still."

In the kitchen they found a slight young man with dark blonde hair and a beard all in braids.

"A Viking?" Gwen whispered to Owena.

"I am," the young man looked up from his work and flashed her a smile, spirit and liveliness in his gray eyes.

Gwen couldn't help, but smile back. Viking men she understood were very charming.*

"This is Hotjor, one of the new porters. Hotjor this is Ms. Jenafere, the new Physician Assistant, she is ranked only by Physician Pradeep and myself."

"A pleasure to meet you Ms. Jenafere," the porter inclined his head, but continued washing dishes.

"Hotjor, where is Issac?"

"He is feeding Mr. Amaury and Mrs. Sabina is here, she is sitting with ."

"Good, good have they finished serving breakfast yet?"

"No ma'am," the young porter shook his head. "One of the pots of porridge was burnt this morning they had to make another, so it was late."

Owena sighed. "What we need is our own oven and stove rather than this little fireplace." The nurse shook her head. "I'm grateful to the nuns, but-" here the other woman stopped and shrugged. "I may as well wish for the sun in my hands."

"With breakfast being late," Owena turned to her. "Pradeep will not yet be done seeing patients." The head nurse pursed her lips thoughtfully and the kitchen door opened.

"Hotjor, Mrs. Granada finished her pudding and-," the woman coming through the door looked up from the bowl in her hand and froze mid-stride, mid-sentence. Gwen felt a pricking of envy upon sighting the newcomer, and knew she was not the only one.

"You got Mrs. Granada to eat all of her food?" Owena sounded both surprised and pleased.

"Yes."

"Well done."

"Thank you," the newcomer smiled and her face beamed at the praise.

"Ms. Jenafere, this is Mrs. Sabina. I do not believe the two of you have met. Mrs. Sabina is a new volunteer."

"Oh," Gwen said extending her hand for a handshake and taking the opportunity to study the Mrs. Sabina's face more.

Her initial assessment of beauty stood. Rich, gleaming dark hair topped a face that might only be considered perfect. It wasn't any single aspect of the woman's face, she'd seen prettier on others, but in Sabina's face every single feature sat in perfect harmony with the other.

Smooth dark brows made an elegant curve over clear blue-eyes with a slight lift at the corners. A nose that might have been too wide in another face set in perfect proportion to wide high cheekbones and matched a clear high forehead. Finally she had one of those bow shaped mouths so oft praised in song and poetry and delicate feminine chin. All of this combined with a clear sun tinted complexion, marred -perhaps in some minds- by a small dark mole over one eyebrow.

"Pleased to meet you Ms. Jenafere, I know physician Pradeep is relieved that you are here. He is always grumbling over his late nights."

Gwen smiled as the other woman closed her hand in a light, soft grasp and she felt the scrape of rings against her palm.

"I suppose they will be my late nights now."

"Perhaps," Sabina said. "Welcome, I hope you do well here," the other woman said head tilting ever so slightly to the right. Silver earrings with large lapis stones, bobbed with her movement and Gwen thought to herself that people who didn't envy Sabina's beauty, might envy her wealth.

She looked down at the hand slipping out of her palm and saw rings on half of the other woman's fingers, the sapphire blue of her gown had jewel tone richness that only the wealthy could afford.

"Mrs. Sabina can you sit with for a time. He has been agitated and you soothe him. Perhaps read him a few psalms."

"I'd be happy to. Thank you." Sabina turned and left.

"Mrs. Sabina has a way with patients, a kindness, and warmth that reaches them."

Gwen considered the other woman's immediate friendliness.

"If ever you are given charge of a hospice look for that quality in your staff," Owena advised. "Not all of them will have it of course, but at least half of them should."

Guinevere nodded dutifully, not knowing when she might have charge of a hospice.

"So Issac, whom you'll meet, and Hotjor are our two porters. They help with the cleaning and some of the basic patient care, freeing the nurses to spend more time with the patients or assisting Physician Pradeep with some his preparations. We keep them quite busy, but if ever you require assistance with something that is not of a medical nature ask for one of them."

"We are your friendly grunts," Hotjor said flashing her a bright smile.

Another man, this one with skin as rich and dark as Ylsa's and intricately braided hair came in pushing a cart of dishes.

"And here is Issac now," Owena smiled. "Issac this is assistant Physician Jenafere."

"Nice to meet you Ms. Jenafere," Issac smiled as he said it.

"Oh please just call me Ms. Jen."

"As you like."

"Issac has everyone finished their breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Good, Ms. Jenafere why don't you take a few minutes to yourself and then head over to the receiving room."

"All right," Gwen said knowing exactly what she would do with this time."


Their virgin reminded her of her mother dark-hair, dark-skin, and an expression as serene and placid as a still lake.*

There was no service in the chapel when she entered, but there were worshippers, people come to pray, meditate or seek the advice of the priest. After a moment she saw Father Flaejer emerge from the confessional a far away expression in his pale gray eyes.

"Mr. Flaejer," she called.

His eyes found her and the serious expression on his face evaporated into a bright smile.

"Ms. Jen, has your first day started yet?"

"Yes," Gwen clasped her hands in delight. "I've read and studied so much, but I'd begun to give up hope that I would put any of it to use."

"And now you are?"

"Well not quite yet, but this afternoon I finally begin working with the patients."

"It sounds as if it's going well. You are indeed blessed." His gray eyes were quite serious.

"You truly believe that." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Oh yes," Father Flaejer replied without any hesitation. "We are all blessed of course, but when our hearts are pure and we work in accordance with the lord, in accordance with good our blessings are increased."

Gwen didn't say anything.

"How long have you been here in Wyeledon?"

"Five months," she said after a moment's thought.

"Five months, you arrived here with little more than the clothes on your back."

"I've lost everything."

"The Lord takes with one hand and gives with another. What did you lose?"

"My home, my employment, my possessions, my family, and," here she paused, "my betrothed.

He nodded. "Those are grievous losses and yet a short five months later you have nearly all of those things again your home, new employment, possessions and not family, but you have goods friends I think."

"But I loved the things that I had."

"And in the end you'll love these things as well if you let yourself."

Gwen breathed in the strong sweet fragrance of incense.

"Can I ask you something Father?"

"Of course Ms. Jen."

"You hear priest and Christians talk much of forgiveness more so than any others."

He nodded.

"I feel that I forgive too easily."

He chuckled, "There is no such thing. Easy forgiveness is the sign of a pure heart, we are asked to forgive our enemies before they have even asked it."

"But I don't get forgiven so easily."

"That," the priest paused a moment, "is a bitter remedy to drink. Tell me about this forgiveness you have given."

"Someone very close to me, someone very important to me said some things to me that hurt very much and then even though we had an agreement he reneged upon it. Not long after he brought me flowers and said it was a mistake and I forgave him."

The priest nodded.

"This was the betrothed that you lost?"

Guinevere considered a moment before finally nodding.

"Why did you forgive him?"

"Because I love him, because I loved being with him. Because I had loved him for so long and I had waited for him for so long." Guinevere explained realizing she could have said almost the same of her forgiveness for Elyan.

"So you forgave him, because you liked the love you were getting from the relationship and expected to marry."

"Yes."

"So your forgiveness was conditional not freely given and now that the relationship is over you want to take your forgiveness back?"

Gwen felt her face flush hot with embarrassment, she had never thought of it that way.

"I suppose so," she admitted. "It sounds terribly selfish when you put it that way."

"Or terribly human," the priest said. "Seeing that you benefit from something and ending hostilities to keep that benefit is how many wars are ended and a part of any relationship. We do need to understand what is important to us."

She nodded he was surely right about that.

"Thank you Father."

"You're welcome. Tell me about this second case of forgiveness."

"A friend threw some insults at me. I had come to help them and they accused me of having a selfish intention."

"That doesn't sound like something you would do."

"It's not, this friend had been very helpful to me and become very dear." Yes Adras was assuredly dear to her. "They were hurting because of some difficulties they'd been having and I wanted to cheer them."

"So why did you forgive this friend?"

"Because sometimes when we are hurting we say or do foolish or cruel things to those we care about."

"So you forgave the human frailty."

Gwen nodded.

"That Ms. Jen is divine forgiveness. That is the forgiveness we are asked to give both to ourselves and our fellow man. It is not such that we forgive the action, but frailty behind the action."

"Because we all suffer the same frailty," she said voice soft with understanding.

"Yes," he nodded. "We forgive for that reason and in so doing we free ourselves from the sins of arrogance, pride, and vengeance, the feelings and desires that bring us ongoing misery and suffering."

"Forgiving others frees us?" Gwen looked at him doubtfully.

"Think about it for a while."

"But-"

"Just a short while."

"Very well, I should probably get back."

"We shall have more time talk." He gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze and left.

Guinevere nodded; she did not quite know what to think. She had never considered forgiveness to be a potentially selfish act. But the priest was of a certainty right, she had forgiven both Elyan and Arthur, because she enjoyed their presence in her life. Yet they could not forgive her frailty and- She swallowed, felt her hands clenching into tight fist, felt her shoulders rising, and the tingling headache began again at the base of her skull. They did not love her enough, did not think enough of what she brought into their lives to forgive her for the sake of their own selfish desires.

She sat for a stunned moment trying to tell herself that that could not be true, that they loved her, that they liked her…She had been a good friend, good sister, good subject, even if she had not been so good a love to Arthur. She did not expect that Arthur would marry her after all, but to send away forever. Suddenly she wanted to cry and here Guinevere stopped herself.

She had a home, a position, friends….If Father Flaejer was right about forgiveness, than he was right about everything else. She could love her new life in Wyeledon as much as she'd loved her old life in Camelot.


When she'd done with her prayers Guinevere headed to the office where Pradeep saw his patients. The physician was not yet there, but Head Nurse Owena was. She was sitting at the room's desk an open log in front of her.

"You are just in time Ms. Jenafere come have a look at this."

Gwen moved to stand behind the older woman. As she suspected Owena was reviewing a log book. Pradeep's log book was in Latin like so many others and once again Guinevere felt a stirring of sorrow and gratitude for all those times Morgana let her look over her shoulder.

At the top she read the Julian date, the patient's name, symptom, diagnosis and prescribed treatment, state and expected result and notes.

"Physician Pradeep is very thorough in his notes."

"Any good steward would have to be," Gwen remarked.

"That's very clever." Owena smiled, but then her very proper mask came back down again. "He will expect that you keep equally thorough notes in time. You do not need them yet, but there are some materials you are expected to create."

Owena unfurled the scroll that had been sitting in front of her and revealed a drawing of a human skeleton front, back, and profile.

"You'll need to duplicate this."

Gwen nodded.

"Do you have your own copy of Hippocrates?"

Gwen shook her head.

"Aristotle?"

Again a negative nod.

Owena pushed the thick leather-bound tomes across the desk.

"These were donated along with other materials. Have you read them?"

"Some, not all," Gwen said, thinking of the hours and hours of reading she'd completed while sitting at Uther's side.

"Good review the first hundred pages of each."

Gwen nodded, keeping her expression blank. She was not looking forward to two hundred pages of reading.

"You'll also be required to write up one case every week. They needn't be complicated, just the patient's symptoms, and the treatment you prescribed."

"All right."

"Here is one of Physician Pradeep's case logs." Owena set a sheaf of paper, bound with cord on top of the tomes. "Take some time to study it now. When you are feeling comfortable with the method of writing up cases head on over to the floor and observe. Pradeep will probably want you to take your lunch with him and after lunch the two of you will begin with the patients."

Gwen nodded.

Owena looked at the stack of books and grimaced.

"There is a lot of reading with this position, but I assure you it is not all dust covered tomes." The other woman gave her arm a friendly squeeze.

"I don't mind its never been my job to sit and read," Gwen said feeling some pleasure at the thought.

"Well enjoy then," Owena left and Gwen settled herself in Pradeep's chair.

With a smile Guinevere settled down to read.


"Ah, Ms. Jenafere here you are," Pradeep and Owena entered the reception room together.

She'd spent perhaps an hour studying Pradeep's cases. It hadn't taken that much time to feel comfortable with the process, but then she'd simply gotten absorbed in the reading and learning the outcomes. When she'd gone out on the floor to find the Physician he had already gone on some errand of his own.

Considering what she would do next had decided to take her lunch alone and get some of her reading started.

"This seemed as good a place as any for studying."

"Indeed," the physician went to his desk taking the center seat and motioned to a chair beside it. "You'll join me here."

Gwen gathered the books she'd brought for reading and took the seat left open for her. Two chairs for patients faced Pradeep's desk and looking at those empty chairs Gwen swallowed and clasped her hands together tightly. Treating sick people was her job, she had to help them.

"Nurse Owena please admit the first patient."

The first patient was a well dressed young woman complaining of headaches, she had the look of a merchant's wife about her. A physician had come to her home, but he had no answer for her pain. Pradeep had studied the medicine of the Occident, but he was also familiar with both newer and older medicines from the Orient. He asked the young woman a number of questions about her rest habits and the foods that she ate, as well as some general questions about her lifestyle. Then he surprised them by asking about her stools and some other unexpected queries.

It seemed that her diet had changed in recent months due to her husband suddenly increasing his wealth. They were eating more pastries and meat and fewer peasant greens. When Physician Pradeep advised her to return to her simpler diet, she admitted that the neighborhood physician had told her the same.

Pradeep frowned and Gwen studied the golden wood grain of the desk.

"Please understand physician my husband has to throw parties and host dinners, we are expected to provide certain foods, if we do not..."

He began to look more sympathetic then and Gwen found herself nodding. Competition amongst the noble and wealthy could be quite fierce. Serving the wrong food or wearing the wrong clothing could damage a reputation for some number of months, particularly if one was new to their wealth.

"Surely you do not take every meal in company?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Then this is what you must do to lessen your headaches. Your own meals outside of company must be more of the peasant diet you were raised with. Eat only the freshest foods you can, well seasoned with herbs, eat only brown breads, and avoid the pastries in particular. When you must eat richer fare eat your own simple meals beforehand so that you only eat smaller amounts of this other food."

She frowned an expression of confusion.

"But why does this food make me ill? It does not make everyone ill."

Gwen started to speak, but shut her mouth.

"Ms. Jen if you should like to answer please do so."

She studied Pradeep a moment before speaking, when she found nothing, but patient encouragement there Gwen cleared her throat.

"The body is composed of the different elements. Each body has its own combination some are more of the earth than others, some more of fire, some more of water and some more of air. If the elements of the foods do not match the elements of the body than there will be foul humors and ill health. Since each body is different what is perfect for one, can be poison for another."

Her eyes widened and she looked worriedly to the physician.

"Do not worry. Go back to the diet that you ate before and I will send a preparation to your home as you may still have headaches from time-to-time."

She nodded.

"Thank you Physician Pradeep, Ms. Jenafere."

The next patient was an older man with worsening arthritis. Physician Pradeep gave him a few quick flexibility test, asked a some questions and advised a treatments of dwale and brandy for pain with a sigh.

"Sadly there is nothing we can do for old age."

Gwen began making her notes as Nurse Owena turned to show the old man out.

"Dwale and brandy?"

"Yes he can alter between the two to avoid the negative effects of each."

"Oh," Gwen said feeling a sudden sadness for the things they could not do.

The rest of the afternoon was a quiet one. Patients came in with various aches and pains. When a medicine was prescribed Guinevere dutifully wrote it down. Most would be sent to the local apothecary though there were a few that would be prepared by Pradeep here at the hospice when they finished with patients for the day. Some would picked them up, others preferred delivery.

Pradeep cast a glance out the window and yawned as Nurse Owena opened the door.

"How many more?"

"This is the last. A youth with a burn."

"A youth?" Pradeep asked clearly surprised. "Is he on his own?"

"Yes."

The physician frowned before glancing at her.

"Send him along."

The young man was thin, a match for her in height. He wore simple serge pants and a worn linen tunic with sleeves long enough to cover his hands easily. He had curling dark hair like so many others. The features of his face weren't of any note, what caught her attention were his eyes. They were the pale, crystal blue of a river on a frozen winter morning. They called to mind a memory flavored with the sweet odor of fever and the rank fragrance of fear. The child was twelve, perhaps thirteen years of age, but she knew him surely she did though she could not yet recall his name.

He stared at her a moment with a frown matching her own before smiling wide and bright, as if sighting for the first time a long lost friend. She could still see him in her mind's eyes, huddling with fear in Morgana's arms, she remembered telling him a story, and brushing sweat soaked hair from his forehead when Morgana was too worn to care for him herself.

"Guinevere," the boy declared her name and she knew him.

Of all the people she'd ever hoped or wanted to see from Camelot she had certainly never imagined any of them walking into the hospice on her first day or work. Nor had her mind ever summoned this child, this boy, a victim of Uther's cruelty, to play a part any of her fancies. But she did indeed know him, knew those winter morning eyes.

"Mordred."


Thank you all so much for reading. Please comment, I love knowing what you all think.

*dwale- is a medieval pain killer composed of henbane,non-lethal doses of hemlock and mandragora amongst other ingredients, in the latter part of the period opium was added and it became addictive.

*barbers- historically barbers performed both surgery and dentistry.

professional rivalries could get pretty intense when one was seen to be outside of their domain. when researching surgery and bonesetting I came upon a few cases of rivalries that turned violent.

despite how Vikings appear in many shows they were very well dressed and groomed for the time. Many Vikings were buried with hair combs and known for being better groomed than the English and the Welsh.

Black and Brown Madonnas from the medieval period are found all over Europe.