Calla hurried down the streets of Minas Tirith in the predawn silence. The faint smell of baking drifted to her from a side street, and her stomach rumbled. But she ignored her hunger, and kept on, until she got to the lower levels of the city, where most of the city services were located.
Down here, the streets were busy as many services were done at night when the streets were empty and easier to get around.
Turning down Nighthawk Road, Calla made her way to the Resting Moon tavern and pushed in through the night crews all just finishing their shifts.
It was easy to find the table where the night soil collectors sat, as everyone gave them a wide berth.
Calla, wrinkling her nose slightly, came over to Deseralin, the head of the collectors who was in the midst of a story.
"---and then he says, getting on top of the barrel," Deseralin looked up at Calla and stopped. "Well, Calla m'dear! Nice to see you. Dahanna's not back yet---"
"I know, I know. I am worried about her. I-I found this," she held out the water jug, "in the belongings of a young lord brought to the Halls late this night. I don't know why he would have it..."
Deseralin stood with that, thumping his ale tankard on the wooden table. He took the jug and looked it over. "She made this last year, didn't she? She was proud of it. Hoping maybe she could start a new career for herself and her bairn."
Calla nodded. "Exactly. I think we have to go out side the walls. The soldier was found near the south postern gate."
"All right then. Samfirth, Gosdon and Juldan: Come with me!"
The three male collectors stood and came out from behind the table. Calla made to go with them, but Desarlin held up a hand. "No Calla, this is collector's business. We'll get her. You go on home. Someone will come and tell you the outcome."
Nodding, suddenly tired, Calla turned and went toward home, still clutching the water jug.
But going wearily back up the streets, she realized, Dahanna's "bairn" needed looking after. Making a turning, she went down the increasingly narrow streets, until she reached the damp stones of Ferret's Way where Dahanna made her home with her three-year-old daughter, Keppany.
Taking the small oil lamp at the bottom of the stairs left there for that purpose, Calla went up to the small attic room Dahanna shared with her child.
Finding the key under the loose board near the door, Calla let herself in.
Raising the lamp higher, Calla looked around the tidy but threadbare room, which held a sleeping pallet and a small trundle bed, a table under the grimy skylight and two chairs. A small thin rug lay before the cold fire. A pot of bright geraniums on the table were the only color in the room.
But Keppany wasn't there.
Leaving the room and carefully locking the door and hiding the key, she looked around uncertain where to go.
Sighing heavily, she went back down the stairs and tiredly put the oil lamp back in its niche. Just as she was about to go out into the street, she heard a door open and turned. It was Mistress Creevy, the manager.
"Hullo Calla, are you looking for Dahanna?"
"Well, actually Keppany."
"Ah, she's in here the poor little mite. She's got a cold and Dahanna's had me watching her nights while she works. I thought you were her."
Calla went in and looked at the child, who was sleeping on the floor by the banked fire, wrapped in a thin blanket, clutching her cloth dolly Marbel. Calla could hear the wheeze in her breathing. Mistress Creevy went to the table and picked up her lit pipe. "She's not been sleeping well. You think you could get her something in the Halls that might help? "
Calla nodded. "Yes, of course. Dahanna didn't tell me." She wanted to go to sleep, but she realized this hour of the morning the Halls would be quiet and would be the best time to take the child there.
She bent and gathered the toddler close, and frowned as she could feel the warmth of her through the blanket. "Thanks Mistress Creevy. I'll get her looked at. Dahanna is going to be a bit late today I think."
Mistress Creevy nodded and followed Calla out.
"All right then Calla. I'll tell Dahanna where you've gone."
Calla nodded, and wrapping up Keppany tighter, she went out into the streets, retracing her steps to the Halls of Healing.
The streets were more busy now, with venders selling their meager wares, as Calla headed back to the Halls. Her head hurt and she knew it was because, not only tired, she was hungry too. She looked down at Keppany, who slept still, mouth open, nose encrusted with drainage. Poor little chick!
Yawning as she went through the still cool stone courtyard of the Halls, she went through the thankfully empty main examining room and sought out Master Parnil, Master Dolengil's morning replacement. The pallet room was quiet, with only the three linen maids going about and checking the sleeping wounded. Calla could see no sign of Master Parnil. Perhaps, he was in the supply room and she had just missed him, turning, she ran into the tall form of Master Dolengil, who grabbed her frowning slightly.
"Calla, what brings you back here? You should be sleeping." Dolengil looked down at the bundle she carried and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "And this is...?"
"My missing friend Dahanna's little girl Keppany. She's sick with a cold, I think."
Dolengil took the small bundle from Calla and went off to a nearby examining table, where he carefully unwrapped the sleeping child.
As he did so, Calla said, "And why are you not asleep Master Dolengil?"
He turned with a smile in his eyes, "Master Parnil had a delivery to attend to this morning down the street from his lodgings. He will be along as soon as he may."
Calla sighed, watching the elegant hands of the healer. Master Dolengil worked long enough hours as it was.
Placing a hand on the girl's forehead, he then moved his hand down to the toddler's chest. Her breathing was indeed terribly congested. He brushed the damp hair off the toddler's face.
"Calla, she needs to sleep propped up. I will make some steaming herbs for her to breath in, and a fever reducer." He put a hand on Calla's shoulder as he turned to go to the supply room. "She will be fine. It is just a bad cold, as you surmised."
Nodding, Calla took the toddler to the nearest pallet. As she carried her, Keppany woke up and the thin wail of a sick child filled her ears.
"It's okay Keppi! It's me, Auntie Calla. Everything's all right. You are just a little sick." She rocked the little girl in her arms for a minute.
"Momma? Where's momma!!" Tears were making her breathing more difficult and she started to gasp as her fright grew.
"No, no, no Keppi! Shh, darling. It's all right. Calm down, I am here."
"Momma!' She hiccupped and her gasping got more pronounced. Calla, frightened, turned to get Dolengil, but she could see him striding towards her quickly from the supply room.
Handing Calla the supplies he carried, he took the terrified toddler and laid her back in the hastily stacked pillows Calla got. Laying a hand on her chest, he closed his eyes for a moment. Keppi's gulping eased and her chest slowed it's frantic heaving.
Lifting his hand, he smiled into the eyes of the child, who went still, mesmerized by the stranger. Dolengil turned, handing Calla the cloth bag of herbs. She smiled back at him, as she took the bag for steaming. "Thank you Master," she said softly as she went to get the hot water.
Dolengil covered the little one, who couldn't take her eyes off of him. She put a fist in her mouth, clutching her dolly close and tried to sink down under the blanket. "No my little bird, you need to sleep up on the pillows. Your momma will expect you to be a good girl and take your medicine too." He lifted her head, leaning it against the pillow. Before she could react, he had pressed, just so, on her jaw and she opened her mouth. He poured the contents of the vial into her mouth and quickly, gently massaged her throat so she swallowed. Her eyes went wide, but she did not cry.
"Good girl. Now let's get you out of your chemise. Here, let me put your doll right next to you."
Calla came back with the little brazier and the bowl, already steaming and set it up near the toddler. Dolengil had pulled the sweat-soaked night shirt off the girl and handing it to Calla said, "I don't suppose we have anything small enough for her."
"No, just clothes for adults."
"Well, we'll just have to keep her warm while this gets washed." Calla nodded and took the chemise for cleaning. Dolengil leaned over Keppany who continued to stare, fascinated, holding her dolly once again. He lay a hand on her brow and sent her to sleep.
As Dolengil washed up, preparing to leave, there was a commotion at the main door and actually some shouting. He put the soiled towel in a basket and walked out to the main examining room.
The night soil collectors had found Dahenna.
And Lord and Lady Farahin were back, determined to get their son moved. This time, with an officious under-steward in tow.
The commotion was caused by the Farahins being appalled by the sight of Dahanna's dirty and injured body being brought into the same Hall as their son.
"You can't bring that filthy woman in here! She should be treated outside! Lord Dowhel! You must stop them!"
The night soil collectors just plowed through the Farahins and their under-steward.
Dolengil met them and indicated an examining table, which Calla, white-faced at her friend's condition, had rushed to cover with a clean cloth. The men lay her down carefully on her stomach.
"She's been laying all night under a broken cart, sir. Her jar's been broke and smashed into her back. But she's still alive."
1
Down here, the streets were busy as many services were done at night when the streets were empty and easier to get around.
Turning down Nighthawk Road, Calla made her way to the Resting Moon tavern and pushed in through the night crews all just finishing their shifts.
It was easy to find the table where the night soil collectors sat, as everyone gave them a wide berth.
Calla, wrinkling her nose slightly, came over to Deseralin, the head of the collectors who was in the midst of a story.
"---and then he says, getting on top of the barrel," Deseralin looked up at Calla and stopped. "Well, Calla m'dear! Nice to see you. Dahanna's not back yet---"
"I know, I know. I am worried about her. I-I found this," she held out the water jug, "in the belongings of a young lord brought to the Halls late this night. I don't know why he would have it..."
Deseralin stood with that, thumping his ale tankard on the wooden table. He took the jug and looked it over. "She made this last year, didn't she? She was proud of it. Hoping maybe she could start a new career for herself and her bairn."
Calla nodded. "Exactly. I think we have to go out side the walls. The soldier was found near the south postern gate."
"All right then. Samfirth, Gosdon and Juldan: Come with me!"
The three male collectors stood and came out from behind the table. Calla made to go with them, but Desarlin held up a hand. "No Calla, this is collector's business. We'll get her. You go on home. Someone will come and tell you the outcome."
Nodding, suddenly tired, Calla turned and went toward home, still clutching the water jug.
But going wearily back up the streets, she realized, Dahanna's "bairn" needed looking after. Making a turning, she went down the increasingly narrow streets, until she reached the damp stones of Ferret's Way where Dahanna made her home with her three-year-old daughter, Keppany.
Taking the small oil lamp at the bottom of the stairs left there for that purpose, Calla went up to the small attic room Dahanna shared with her child.
Finding the key under the loose board near the door, Calla let herself in.
Raising the lamp higher, Calla looked around the tidy but threadbare room, which held a sleeping pallet and a small trundle bed, a table under the grimy skylight and two chairs. A small thin rug lay before the cold fire. A pot of bright geraniums on the table were the only color in the room.
But Keppany wasn't there.
Leaving the room and carefully locking the door and hiding the key, she looked around uncertain where to go.
Sighing heavily, she went back down the stairs and tiredly put the oil lamp back in its niche. Just as she was about to go out into the street, she heard a door open and turned. It was Mistress Creevy, the manager.
"Hullo Calla, are you looking for Dahanna?"
"Well, actually Keppany."
"Ah, she's in here the poor little mite. She's got a cold and Dahanna's had me watching her nights while she works. I thought you were her."
Calla went in and looked at the child, who was sleeping on the floor by the banked fire, wrapped in a thin blanket, clutching her cloth dolly Marbel. Calla could hear the wheeze in her breathing. Mistress Creevy went to the table and picked up her lit pipe. "She's not been sleeping well. You think you could get her something in the Halls that might help? "
Calla nodded. "Yes, of course. Dahanna didn't tell me." She wanted to go to sleep, but she realized this hour of the morning the Halls would be quiet and would be the best time to take the child there.
She bent and gathered the toddler close, and frowned as she could feel the warmth of her through the blanket. "Thanks Mistress Creevy. I'll get her looked at. Dahanna is going to be a bit late today I think."
Mistress Creevy nodded and followed Calla out.
"All right then Calla. I'll tell Dahanna where you've gone."
Calla nodded, and wrapping up Keppany tighter, she went out into the streets, retracing her steps to the Halls of Healing.
The streets were more busy now, with venders selling their meager wares, as Calla headed back to the Halls. Her head hurt and she knew it was because, not only tired, she was hungry too. She looked down at Keppany, who slept still, mouth open, nose encrusted with drainage. Poor little chick!
Yawning as she went through the still cool stone courtyard of the Halls, she went through the thankfully empty main examining room and sought out Master Parnil, Master Dolengil's morning replacement. The pallet room was quiet, with only the three linen maids going about and checking the sleeping wounded. Calla could see no sign of Master Parnil. Perhaps, he was in the supply room and she had just missed him, turning, she ran into the tall form of Master Dolengil, who grabbed her frowning slightly.
"Calla, what brings you back here? You should be sleeping." Dolengil looked down at the bundle she carried and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "And this is...?"
"My missing friend Dahanna's little girl Keppany. She's sick with a cold, I think."
Dolengil took the small bundle from Calla and went off to a nearby examining table, where he carefully unwrapped the sleeping child.
As he did so, Calla said, "And why are you not asleep Master Dolengil?"
He turned with a smile in his eyes, "Master Parnil had a delivery to attend to this morning down the street from his lodgings. He will be along as soon as he may."
Calla sighed, watching the elegant hands of the healer. Master Dolengil worked long enough hours as it was.
Placing a hand on the girl's forehead, he then moved his hand down to the toddler's chest. Her breathing was indeed terribly congested. He brushed the damp hair off the toddler's face.
"Calla, she needs to sleep propped up. I will make some steaming herbs for her to breath in, and a fever reducer." He put a hand on Calla's shoulder as he turned to go to the supply room. "She will be fine. It is just a bad cold, as you surmised."
Nodding, Calla took the toddler to the nearest pallet. As she carried her, Keppany woke up and the thin wail of a sick child filled her ears.
"It's okay Keppi! It's me, Auntie Calla. Everything's all right. You are just a little sick." She rocked the little girl in her arms for a minute.
"Momma? Where's momma!!" Tears were making her breathing more difficult and she started to gasp as her fright grew.
"No, no, no Keppi! Shh, darling. It's all right. Calm down, I am here."
"Momma!' She hiccupped and her gasping got more pronounced. Calla, frightened, turned to get Dolengil, but she could see him striding towards her quickly from the supply room.
Handing Calla the supplies he carried, he took the terrified toddler and laid her back in the hastily stacked pillows Calla got. Laying a hand on her chest, he closed his eyes for a moment. Keppi's gulping eased and her chest slowed it's frantic heaving.
Lifting his hand, he smiled into the eyes of the child, who went still, mesmerized by the stranger. Dolengil turned, handing Calla the cloth bag of herbs. She smiled back at him, as she took the bag for steaming. "Thank you Master," she said softly as she went to get the hot water.
Dolengil covered the little one, who couldn't take her eyes off of him. She put a fist in her mouth, clutching her dolly close and tried to sink down under the blanket. "No my little bird, you need to sleep up on the pillows. Your momma will expect you to be a good girl and take your medicine too." He lifted her head, leaning it against the pillow. Before she could react, he had pressed, just so, on her jaw and she opened her mouth. He poured the contents of the vial into her mouth and quickly, gently massaged her throat so she swallowed. Her eyes went wide, but she did not cry.
"Good girl. Now let's get you out of your chemise. Here, let me put your doll right next to you."
Calla came back with the little brazier and the bowl, already steaming and set it up near the toddler. Dolengil had pulled the sweat-soaked night shirt off the girl and handing it to Calla said, "I don't suppose we have anything small enough for her."
"No, just clothes for adults."
"Well, we'll just have to keep her warm while this gets washed." Calla nodded and took the chemise for cleaning. Dolengil leaned over Keppany who continued to stare, fascinated, holding her dolly once again. He lay a hand on her brow and sent her to sleep.
As Dolengil washed up, preparing to leave, there was a commotion at the main door and actually some shouting. He put the soiled towel in a basket and walked out to the main examining room.
The night soil collectors had found Dahenna.
And Lord and Lady Farahin were back, determined to get their son moved. This time, with an officious under-steward in tow.
The commotion was caused by the Farahins being appalled by the sight of Dahanna's dirty and injured body being brought into the same Hall as their son.
"You can't bring that filthy woman in here! She should be treated outside! Lord Dowhel! You must stop them!"
The night soil collectors just plowed through the Farahins and their under-steward.
Dolengil met them and indicated an examining table, which Calla, white-faced at her friend's condition, had rushed to cover with a clean cloth. The men lay her down carefully on her stomach.
"She's been laying all night under a broken cart, sir. Her jar's been broke and smashed into her back. But she's still alive."
1