Chapter Five: Finding Faith

Arella sighed as she fell into a seemingly continuous pattern of work. She had seen several patients come in and the Islamic doctors treated their informed with many methods, salves and equipment she had never even heard of. Back home, in France, in Europe, her people did not have these kinds of strange and fascinating medical procedures or equipment. No, the Europeans like herself relied on the excretions of humors. If you were ill, you would go to a local barber-and along with cutting hair the man would cut his patient in order to rid the tainted blood that was causing the illness to stabilize the humors, and cause equality in the body. If not blood, then mucus would be excreted. And if not mucus of the body, the ailing soul would take a laxative. If those procedures failed, a priest would come, and bless the individual, and they would turn to prayer. No, the methods in these lands appeared far more strange and efficient. They worked, and made the methods back home appear savage and barbaric by stark contrast.

Rashes, and the doctors would treat the unfortunate person with salves that could calm the inflammation. Fever, the doctors would cure by grinding medicinal herbs and put them in broth. Open wounds, the doctors would clean them, take care in cleaning the wound and dress it with cloth, even apply salves to aid in the recovery. If the wounds were grave enough, the doctors would attempt to stitch the wound with thread. Arella could not help but be in awe at the miracles these doctors performed.

Back in Europe, these illness would have caused the deaths of many, yet in the Holy City, they appeared as if they were common and could be cured with minor ease.
The death of her dear father was still in her mind, yet it only seemed to strengthen Arella's resolve to learn as much from these medical doctors as possible. Despite the fact that she could aid them in procedures, she could watch, and would often clean the blood, rags and equipment after a patient was seen. The doctors may not have been able to save her father, but if these doctors were so advanced with medicine, how much farther could they go? What more could they learn about the heart until they could perform miracles and save another poor soul with a failing heart? The excitement on what they could learn was enormous, and it gave Arella hope.

Many people with illnesses would come to the healers, but occasionally, they would be requested by the King. Arella wasn't sure why, but the doctors would allow her to go with. She would barely see the man, and when she would it would only be as glimpses. It was so strange. He appeared so….frail, yet so powerful. Back straight, shoulders held in a confident manner as his silver masked head always stared straight ahead, and though seeming weary, he never allowed his posture to falter. She had admired his grace from afar, sickly, yet beautiful and unbroken with his strides quick and assured in purpose. Yet if one looked close enough, his knees would buckle and tremble ever so slightly if he stood for far too long, and if he would exert himself too quickly the man would pause to regain his breath. These moments of weakness were brief, and soon the young King would resume his activities, vigilant of any threats towards his land or people. Admiring his strength and beauty, Arella could not dare say a wrong against this man. She may not have known what was ailing him specifically, but his strength to hide the discomfort and pain aspired her, and his caring nature towards his people made her feel safe, as if she were protected. This man was not her father, yet that feeling of security returned when she would see him. Still, she doubted the man had noticed her, and she was fine with that. All she did was make a fool of herself by saying stupid things.

Still, the young woman kept herself busy as she went into the chambers where the men previously were, she having a bucket of water. Turning her attention towards the dirty cloth on the ground, Arella kneeled, setting the bucket on the ground. Her hand reached for the cloth, but she was startled by a voice, "Please, it would be most unwise for you to touch that cloth."

Arella jumped, partly recognizing the voice as she turned around, and saw the silver mask standing near the door, "I...I apologize, my King." Arella replied, quickly getting on her feet, the white cloth with embroidered gold appearing almost like a dream, a haze in the dimly lit room.

"No, it is I that should be apologizing. I am the one that is ill, and I will not risk the fate on another. Wait…..do I know you? You appear so familiar." Baldwin asked, cocking his head slightly to the side, as if to get a better view of the young woman standing before him.

"Yes, my liege. With the….Islamic man." Arella replied, feeling herself become embarrassed upon hearing the man chuckle slightly.

"So that was you? Now how could I have forgotten? You are a brave woman, of that I have no doubt. May I have the honor of knowing your name?" The Leper asked, Arella freezing. She was just a servant….a maid for the doctors. Why would he want to know her name?

"Arella. My name is Arella, kind King." The woman replied, bowing slightly. She was not sure if she should, but she would rather be safe than sorry.

"Angel. That is a beautiful name. And you do not have to bow so much. It makes me feel as if I am superior."

"I apologize, my King." Arella apologized once more, "But you are superior, are you not? You are the King."

"When I must be. People often forget that I am a man behind the mask and title. Without the title, I would just be another leper with a bell around my neck."

"I am sorry. I could never imagine." Arella spoke, silence beginning to reign.

"Did your sorrow ever pass?" The Leper suddenly asked, Arella's eyes snapping to her quizzically, "I beg your pardon, my lord?"

"In the church you were crying. Did your sorrow ever pass?" He asked once more, Arella slowly nodding her head, "Yes. Yes he did."

"I am sorry." Baldwin replied softly, Arella sighing.

"We came to Jerusalem to save him-my father. We heard all prayers are answered in Jerusalem. But God never answered my prayers, and now Father is gone."

"I understand what it is like to lose a father. You have my sympathy."

"Thank you. I have his soul to pray for, as for you-to get better." Arella added, the man almost laughing at that.

"I have been asking God for years, yet my condition only gets worse. Regardless if God has abandoned me, I shall not abandon Him."

"You are very brave." Arella stated, Baldwin shaking his head, "No, I am not brave. I can just suppress my fear, though I still feel it. It is just a matter of how well you handle fear."

"Without fear there can never be courage."

"Correct." Baldwin nodded, turning to bend and pick up the used cloth, "My lord, no! Please, allow me." Arella pleaded, though the man only waved her off as he slowly picked up the tainted cloth.

"I do want this fate on anyone, Arella. I will not risk you getting with damnation." Baldwin replied, Arella feeling like the worst maid. What kind of maid let a superior pick up his own filth? Still, he was only trying to protect her, one of his people.

"I...thank you. You are a good King."

"Do not thank me for doing simply what is right."

"Of course….I apologize, my lord, but I must take my leave. I will keep you in my prayers." Arella replied, picking up her bucket as the Leper nodded.

"That is kind of you. I thank you."

"I am simply doing what is right." Arella replied, the man chuckling, "Farewell, my liege."

"Farewell, good woman."

I apologize for the long wait and short chapter. I personally don't like this chapter for some reason, but I hope you all enjoyed. Thank you for your support and please review! Happy New Year, everyone! :)