#19 Challenge
Arthur was surprised by the coolness in the girl's voice. Her eyes were hard and dark and her expression reminiscent of Tristan, who he had learned from Gawain was her brother, but it was something he could not have failed to realize on his own. She also didn't seem to like the fact that he doubted her claims and looked to Gawain to make decisions. She was a different type of woman then he was accustomed to.
He glanced at Lancelot, who was feigning unconcern, but watching the girl from the corner of his eye, "Lancelot, would you please bring Bors' child here?" His second in command left immediately and surprisingly without a word. Arthur turned to the girl again, "Bors is another of my knights." Kirra nodded. "His child was attacked by a dog. The wound will not heal and it is certain they will loose the little one. No one here can do anything more. It is now only a matter of time." His meaning seemed to stick in the air.
He was surprised when the anger left the girl's face to be replaced with worry and she immediately rose from her chair and turned to address Gawain.
"I'll need water, a pot, and clean rags … linen … whatever and my little bag. You know, the green one. Oh, and my bowl."
Gawain nodded and left the room taking Finn with him.
Kirra clasped her hands and turned to Arthur, "Now, do you have a room in mind where I can work?"
"Here will be fine."
Kirra's expression was one of horror, "You want me to do it here? In this room?" She wrinkled her nose when he again affirmed her question and protested. "But it's filthy in here."
Arthur's jaw dropped, that was the last thing he had expected to come from her mouth. He attempted to protest, but she had already turned away and was wiping a section of the table off with a clean section of the inside of her skirt. It was high up and he turned away when he saw more of her leg then he felt he should have. She didn't seem to notice or care.
Only when she had finished and dropped her skirt, and he deemed it safe did he turn to see her move to the fire. She stoked the blaze high and added more wood from the pile that sat to the side, then rolled up her sleeves and after scrutinizing the room with distaste apparent in her eyes, sat to wait.
"You seem to be competent enough," Arthur said to break the silence and the girl just stared at him. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking -- other than she thought him a great sodding fool and for what, he wasn't quite certain.
They sat in silence until Lancelot reentered the room, followed by a sturdy red-headed woman carrying a child on her hip. She looked worn and weary. At once Kirra jumped to her feet and moved to speak to the woman.
"I'm Kirra. Arthur tells me that your baby was bit by a dog."
The woman nodded.
"Was the dog acting sick or different?" Kirra wasn't even sure if they had rabies during this time period, but it helped to know more of what she was dealing with.
"No, it was jus' one of the wild dogs that hangs about the tavern waitin' for handouts. The babe here went for it, thinkin' it was like the ones we have at home and the dog ..." The woman's large brown eyes grew wet at the memory of hearing her child's screams and her inability to act fast enough to save the baby from harm.
By this time, Gawain had returned with Kirra's things. She saw him enter the room and squeezed the older woman's shoulder smiling reassuringly. "Well, let's see what I can do, huh? Why don't you go and sit down while I get some things ready."
The woman nodded and then, to Kirra's annoyance, looked to Arthur to make sure it was alright. She sat only after he had smiled and Kirra sat in front of her.
"Would you please get that water over the fire to boil?" Kirra asked Gawain when he handed her bag and bowl to her. Then turning her attention back to the woman, she ignored the men.
"What is your name?" She asked.
"It's Vanora, lady. Bors is my man."
"Well, I have not yet met him, but that's good. And I am not much of a lady. Just call me Kirra. What's your baby's name?"
A faint blush brightened Vanora's pale face, "This is Nine."
Kirra wasn't sure she had heard the woman correctly, "Nine? As in the number nine?"
"Aye, there are ten all together," she shrugged, "It was easier to give them numbers."
Kirra fought the laugh that threatened to spill out of her. This was hardly the place or time. The unexpected stress must be acting on her, "That is great!" She exclaimed then sobered. "Do you mind if I look at Nine?"
Vanora shifted her child and opened the blankets so that Kirra could see her. Kirra kept her face carefully composed at the sight of that little ragged face. She looked just like Kirra imagined Frankenstein's monster would have looked. The damage was extensive and terrible.
Lacerations and tears criss-crossed the toddler's small face and it looked as it someone with a large needle had sewn the gashes together with equally large stitches. Kirra wasn't even sure that the wounds had been cleaned properly before the flesh had been stitched, so red and swollen was the baby's flesh. A thick yellow crust had formed over some of the stitches and a few were weeping. A particularly, long gash slanted across the forehead and crossed one of the child's eyes and it was plain that the child might never again see out of that eye. The little thing made a pathetic mewling sound when Kirra touched her head to check for fever. That too was present.
It would seem that the dog had just gone for the child's face. She met the mother's eyes, they were wet again.
"Was she bit anywhere else?" Kirra asked in a reasonably steady voice. It wouldn't do to clean up her face then have the child die as result of a wound not mentioned, but still dangerous.
"No, only in the face."
Kirra nodded, thinking, "Well, that's a blessing then." She paused before continuing, "I am not sure I can help with the sight in her right eye, but I should be able to clean everything so that there will be no more threat of infection and I think I can help minimize the scarring,"
Vanora looked hopeful.
"There will be some scarring, understand, but it will not be so severe."
"Anything, just so long as she lives."
Kirra gave a grim smile and patted the mother's arm. "She will, don't worry."
"Kirra, your water is ready," Gawain informed her.
Kirra got to her feet, "Great. Let's get started."
She opened her bag and rifled though it, pulling out herbs and thread and needles, which she threaded and dangled in the pot of boiling water.
"Here," she said handing the very end of the thread to Gawain, then dipped out some of the water for her bowl and crushed her chosen herbs into it. She returned to the mother and child as a rather stout man pushed open the doors to the great hall, followed by one of the largest men Kirra had ever seen. She paused in her preparations, her eyes widening at the sight of him.
"Wha's this about, Arthur?" The first man said striding angrily to the Roman.
"Oh, stop that," Vanora snapped before Arthur could answer. "Kirra is going to make Nine well again."
The man turned and pinned a furious glare on Kirra, so much so, that Gawain instinctively stepped in front of her. She sighed and tried to push him away. He didn't budge.
"Come on, caveman, move it," She ordered and again shoved at him again, causing him to reluctantly step aside, before facing who she guessed was the child's father -- large and furious father, "If you want me to help, get out of the way and be quiet."
He gaped for a moment at her audacity then took an aggressive step towards her. Kirra held her ground, though the man looked like a boar ready to rend her limb from limb. He was stopped when Vanora touched his arm.
"Let her try, Bors." Her voice was soft and pleading. "Nothin' else has worked and Kirra seems so confident. Let her try."
Bors thought it over, "Fine, but if anything goes wrong, girl …" He pointed at her and his threat filled the already tense air with malice.
"Nothing will go wrong, and if it does then you can have your pound of flesh," Kirra promised deprecatingly. "Now sit down."
She turned to Arthur, "Is there anyone else who would like to join us. I am sure that there are a few people left in the village who wouldn't mind a show."
She couldn't help being a little sarcastic. This was her first healing without having Niara near and she was nervous, but careful not to let that show. She wanted only competence and professionalism to be displayed. She didn't wait for the Roman's answer, but sat down again in front of Vanora.
"I am going to have to put the little one to sleep. Everything will be fine," She said to calm the momentary panic that flashed through the woman's eyes. "I will wake her when I am finished, but I don't want her to be awake for the cleaning and stitching. It will be very painful."
Vanora nodded reluctantly, "If you are sure you can wake her."
Kirra grinned, "Oh that is one thing that I am very sure of. She is still very strong, the trauma and wounds haven't taken her strength of spirit from her. She wants very much to stay with you."
She reached out a hand to gently stroke the baby's soft, curling hair. It was a beautiful shade of red-gold, the color of fall leaves and thick as anything. The baby regarded her calmly now with her one good eye.
It was as if even at that tender age the child knew Kirra was there to help. Perhaps it was a gift from the goddess, Kirra had a feeling it was. She murmured the words to send the little one to sleep. Heavy lids drifted down and covered one battered blind eye and one pure, blue eye. The marking on Kirra's shoulder tingled and her wrist burned so she had to remove the leather band that kept it hidden in order to award herself a measure of comfort.
Kirra forgot everything as she worked on the child, even blocking out the shocked gasps as her wash water foamed up along the reopened gashes. Time seemed to stand still and place dropped away so that there was no one but her and the baby who existed in the world. The whole time she worked she felt the little one hovering around her, watching and lending her added strength when Kirra grew weary.
At last it was done and the last stitch was knotted and gently bandaged. Kirra called to the baby and was extraordinarily pleased to find that when the little girl opened her eyes both were whole and undamaged. The baby grinned up at her mother.
Kirra smiled and stretched her back. She was weary and extremely hungry, but elated that she had done so well on her first solo healing. She sensed the silence in the room and looked about, six pairs of wide, awed eyes stared at her.
Her smile slipped, "What?"
Bors leaned in closer, "Her eye's healed."
"I was hoping that it would be, but it still needs to be bathed in this water." She gestured to the leftover herbal water that sat still and unmoving in her bowl. "As do the rest of her wounds, every day until the stitches come out in about two weeks – ten days."
"But her eye is healed," He repeated in a gruff voice.
Kirra's brows knit in confusion, "I know."
"She was blind in that eye."
The gathered group stared at Kirra waiting for an explanation. Even Gawain seemed to be surprised by her skill though he had experienced it before.
"You wanted her healed, I did my best. I am sure that if you still want her blind you can poke her with a stick or some other sharp instrument."
Bors looked at Kirra for a moment before catching her up in a crushing bear hug, "You did a miracle, girl, a bloody miracle."
Vanora was silently crying for joy, Dag clapped Bors on the shoulder, and Lancelot watched with an amused grin from his chair. After Bors had placed Kirra on her feet again, Gawain pulled her close and kissed her soundly to the shock and amusement of all.
"Well," said Arthur, bringing an end to the celebratory air, "It looks as though we have a new healer. I hope that is fine with you Dagonet."
Kirra stilled and looked up at the huge man.
"That will be fine," He consented in a deep, calm voice.
There were many more words of gratitude before the room was cleared of the small family and extra knights and before Kirra thought it appropriate to slump into a chair. Gawain had been the only thing holding her upright towards the end.
"Are you all right, lady?" Arthur asked, his brow furrowed in concern.
Gawain squeezed her shoulder. He had not witnessed such aftereffects of such a healing on Kirra before and the change it wrought in her coloring and strength worried him.
"Yes," Kirra said in a thin voice. "But do you, by chance, have anything to eat. It requires quite a bit of energy to heal in that manner and I didn't eat much breakfast."
"Oh, yes. Of course," Arthur gestured and the servant again approached, this time with a tray of bread, cheese and fruit. And another cup of wine, but this time Kirra noticed that he had watered it down. She smiled her thanks and dug in.
So intent was Kirra on her food that she did not hear a word that was spoken between the two men. Only when she felt the sugar hitting her system, did she catch the end of the conversation.
"She will stay with you for the time being then, Gawain," Arthur said.
The knight nodded, "That would be best."
"I will look for a place that you can have as a surgery, lady." Arthur said, turning his attention back to the tired woman in front of him. She nodded her thanks as she stifled a yawn. Arthur smiled, "I think it is time for our new healer to take a rest."
"I am sorry," Kirra said. "It really zaps me."
Arthur's brows knit in perplexity at her words and he nodded slowly, "I am sure that it does. I will let you know when we have found a suitable place for you."
It would seem the meeting was over and they were dismissed. Gawain got to his feet pulling Kirra up with him and together they left, leaving a very thoughtful Roman sitting alone in the great room.