Chap 2:
At the Bellow's Inn, Nate and Mason sat at a small table near the bar enjoying a drink and some quiet banter in their native tongue, English. They were old friends, having known each other since they were boys in a small town south of London. Mason and Nate had stowed away to France on the same boat, both of them runaways. They had decided that travel to a strange new country was less dangerous than a lifetime in their abusive homes. At least they had each other.
"It is good to see you again, Nate. Why do you venture out so late tonight, old friend?" said Mason as he offered him a mug. Nate accepted and drank heartily.
"It is all business, Mason. The old man had to tend to an emergency, down the road a ways. I used the excuse that I needed to water the horses for me to get some grog." The two men chuckled.
"You and yours are always welcome here, Nate. If you will be riding through the forest path tonight, just be careful. A couple of no-good fellows were here earlier. I did not like the looks of them, they seemed to be the conniving sort. I am glad they left. I think they headed north, you will be going." warned Mason.
"A big one and a small one?" said Nate.
"Yes, that's right…" said Mason, a little surprised "Downright nasty looking crew."
"I would have to agree with you. I saw them while we were on that road, alright. I nearly pulled my dagger on them." Nate laughed a little uneasily. He suddenly became concerned about the trip home, and thought it best to head out as soon as possible.
"It would be better of you all to stay the night and travel in the morn. I have rooms for you." Offered Mason.
"Thank you, but I know everyone else would like to sleep in their own beds. Well, I best be off then. I have to get the men home. Thanks for the drink." Nate said. The two men parted after a brief handshake. Nate hurried back to the carriage, knocking on the door.
"Are we ready to go then, is everybody aboard?"
"Yes" said several sleepy voices from within. He smiled and went to climb up on the front of the carriage, but paused. He stepped down and opened the door, asking quietly for a pistol from Bruno, the eldest man-servant. Bruno gave him the gun without question, but grasped Nate's arm as he tried to close the door.
"What are you worried about, Nate?" questioned Bruno, who knew Nate as a particularly brave man, not prone to idle worry.
"Ah, just being careful." replied Nate, not wanting to alarm the carriage's inhabitants. Bruno guffawed, but decided he would remain awake and on guard, just in case Nate's instincts were correct. He walked out of the carriage and jumped onto the bench at the back. Looking over his shoulder, Nate glanced back at Bruno.
"Just being careful." Bruno said. Nate smiled, whipping the reins and jolting the carriage forward, heading to the wooded path.
The night woods were unusually still during the trip from Differdange to Capellen. The moon shown through the trees on the dark, dusty road; both men were on the alert, listening closely to every sound. Suddenly, in the distance there were men's shouts, screams, sounds of horses, then silence again. Nate and Bruno looked at each other, both having heard the noise. Nate flicked the reins and urged the horses to move faster. It was well after midnight, and seemingly, the woods were full of treachery.
After traveling for some time down the road, Nate spied the faint shape of a horse in the middle of the road. As he approached slowly, he noted the faint shape of something on the ground. Nate pulled up on the reigns and stopped, and looking around to Bruno. He signaled silently ahead of him. Bruno fetched Jacques quietly out of the carriage, whispering for him to stand guard in the back of the carriage while Nate went to investigate the horse and mound blocking their path in front.
As he approached the horse it snorted and stomped its front hooves, obviously irritated. He approached the mound at the foot of the horse slowly, and after looking at it intently he realized it was a man, but the man was still and silent. He brought the lantern he was carrying closer for examination.
"Holy mother!" he said, as he saw the blood stained shirt and trousers, and the matted bloody head.
"What is it Nate?" asked a concerned Bruno, lifting up his pistol.
"It's a man! Badly beaten, I see. I can't tell if he's dead or alive." He gently nudged the man with no response. "I think it's the cleric…" he said to himself.
"The who?" Said Bruno, as he inched forward towards Nate.
"Never mind." Nate said. Nate put down the lantern and, as he had been taught, reached up to the man's neck and felt a faint pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness. He lives, at least for now. Poor wretch. Bruno, I think the good Doctor should come and have a look." Nate said. Bruno had been inching forward, and was standing at his side by that point. Bruno nodded and quickly rushed back to the carriage.
After a few quiet words, Dr. Conrad Dyson, the Earl of Mamer, stepped from the carriage. He was a tall, distinguished, older gentleman who carried himself with grace. He moved quickly, walking towards the men in the road, who were kneeling around the injured man. He was still a little groggy, having been in a deep sleep in the carriage. As he knelt next to the crumpled man, he grabbed the wrist and felt for a pulse. He found a weak one. Curious, knowledgeable eyes surveyed the devastation.
"He is still alive. By the looks of it, not for much longer, unless we do something." He could not discern much in the dim light of the lantern. He directed the men to fetch a stretcher from the carriage. Under the physician's watchful eye, the men gently placed the stranger on the stretcher and carried him into the carriage. In the slightly brighter light of the carriage, experienced hands and eyes began to take note of the damage.
"Big gash on the head, but no breaks in the skull…probably end up with a hell of a concussion. This arm is broken, and this leg is broken. Good lord, he even has broken ribs. Who the hell did this?" He said, worry growing within him. After tying a tourniquet around a bleeding wound on the leg, his hands moved up to feel the man's neck, and he pushed away the bloody hair, revealing his face.
"Oh my…" he said, noting the malformed face with curiosity.
Outside, Nate soothed the horse, and in a few minutes, was able to mount it. He spoke gently into the horse's ear.
"Good boy. You saved your master tonight, faithful one. We would have run him over." He patted the dark, graceful neck. "I'll give you some oats once we get home. Bruno, I'll ride this horse back to Capellen." Nate shouted back. Bruno jumped into the driver's seat of the carriage. He turned and looked through the little front window.
"To the infirmary then, Doctor?" Bruno asked.
"No, I'm afraid he may not make it that far." Dr. Dyson said, pressing hard on a bleeding wound on the stranger's head. "Let us go home. We will have to tend to him there. And have Nate fetch my daughter. I will need her help."
"Yes Sir!" Said Nate, hearing the Doctor's orders. He wasted no time galloping ahead of the carriage down the dusty road.
In a neat house on Capellen manor, Elaine Dyson was still awake that night, her texts piled high in front of her, covering the entire front of her desk in the library. She sat at under a bright light, her hazel eyes sleepy, pouring over the words of her latest assignment. She sighed and leaned back briefly, deciding it was time to finally get to bed. She stood up and stretched, her dark blonde hair tumbling down around her robed, slender shoulders.
"It will be a good day tomorrow." She said, smiling as she gazed at the moon. She would work with her father at his home office in the morning. She turned off the lamp and walked slowly out of the library, shutting the books as she left.
Oh, so many studies. I have so much still left to learn. I don't know why I continue to torture myself like this, that dream has passed. Really Elaine, you could be just an idle countess. She laughed at herself, knowing she could never just sit idle. Ever.
It was her own idea to try to follow in her father's footsteps, to become a physician. She had already disappointed him once, she would never disappoint him again. Elaine sighed, and walked into her son's room on the way to her bedroom. She checked on him with a mother's silent step, and feather light touch. The sound of hooves outside and a knock at the door startled her. She exited quickly, closing the door to Roland's room, so he would not be disturbed. Adele, the matron of the house, rushed to the door, opening it to find her husband Nate.
"What is the matter at this hour?" she questioned, worried.
"I need to speak to Lady Elaine." Nate said, giving his wife a brief hug. Elaine had already run down the hall and was descending the stairs.
"What is it Nate?" Elaine asked… "Has something happened to Father?"
"Come with me my Lady, your father requests your help, with an injured man." Both women briefly breathed a sigh of relief and exchanged looks of concern. Elaine ran back up to her room and quickly got dressed.
"Where are you taking him?" Asked Adele, hugging her husband.
"They are bringing him to the house now." He said kissing his wife's forehead, "He is gravely injured. I do not know if we will be successful with this one. I'll be back later, love."
"How awful!" Adele said. Elaine rushed past her.
"Adele, please keep an ear out for Roland. I don't know when we'll be back." Elaine said, following closely behind Nate.
"Of course my lady, don't worry about a thing." Comforted Adele, closing the door behind them.
At the manor house, the man-servants brought the injured stranger directly into the surgical room, located in the extension off the manor house that was his office. Jacques went to retrieve the head maid, Marjorie, who was the nurse. After the men deposited the limp, lifeless form on the table, Dr. Dyson began to remove the bloody, dirty clothes. Marjorie entered, surveyed the situation quickly and started to light the lamps in the room. Dr. Dyson laid a blanket over the injured man as he turned to wash his hands in a nearby basin.
"Go now, Marjorie, boil some water please, I need lots of clean water. Bruno, fetch me a stack of clean cloths and bandages. Nate, please bring me the surgical kit and needles, and some splints. There is much work to do..." The servants ran off, each with his own duty. Now alone in the well lit examination room, Dr. Dyson paused briefly to look at the man's face again, which he had kept hidden from the servants. He had wanted to examine the face closely. The left side of his face was normal, save a few scrapes and bruises. The right side was misshapen, the skin thickened, creased in places with a reddish discoloration. A gash in the cheek was actively oozing.
"Blood runs close to the skin here. Hmm. This could be a big birthmark of some sort. An awful one at that." he said to himself, applying pressure to the wound. He was fairly certain that the malformation was indeed no infection they need be concerned about.
Elaine entered into the surgical room. Her face turned to shock when she saw the man lying on the table covered, save his blood soaked head. She looked over at the bloody clothing on the floor. Her father looked up.
"Thank you for coming Elie." He said, pointing to the bowl on a low table. Elaine nodded, pushing up her sleeves.
"What happened?" She asked as she scrubbed at her hands and pulled an apron over her dress.
"We found him left for dead on the road between Differdange and here. He must have been attacked, he is wounded badly. He is unconscious for now, but alive. He seems to be a fairly young, strong man, but he may yet succumb to his wounds. Quick, we need to clean and fix all these wounds, and we have some bones to set before he comes to."
Father and daughter worked tirelessly through the night on the unfortunate stranger.
After washing and repairing the scalp wounds, Elaine picked up a bowl of warm water and started to clean off his face.
"Father, what happened here?" She said, cleaning off the disfigured side of the face first, touching it gently. Elaine did not even flinch at the sight of the stranger's face. She was long immune to being squeamish to these sorts of things.
Dr. Dyson was a respected, world renowned physician, and Elaine was the tomboy daughter who had who tagged along everywhere her father went as he visited patients from a very tender age. She had joined him when he went to spend long weeks at the Leper colonies, getting to know the people and children there. It was there where Elaine learned about the cruelty of alienation and the healing power of compassion. She knew her calling then, but had a difficult time convincing her father that she was sure of her it since that time. She wanted to be the first woman physician in Luxembourg. But the road had been anything but easy.
"Was this some kind of awful burn, you think?" She said, gently wiping the stranger's face.
"No, I don't think so. He probably has had that malformation since birth. See how it affects the shape of the cheekbone." The doctor replied, examining the left forearm and hand. A blood streaked sparkle shown from his hand.
"This is a woman's ring, is it not?" he said, holding up the stranger's limp arm for her to see. Elaine nodded.
"Yes, I think so. It looks like an engagement ring." She said, abandoning her post and going to take a closer look. The little finger was dislocated and becoming swollen.
"If we don't get this off, he will lose this finger." With Elaine holding traction, he relocated the finger at this the stranger moaned weakly, moving slightly as the doctor used soapy water to slide the ring off. He put it in his coat pocket.
"Ah. That is a good thing, he reacts to pain. He may have a shot at living after all. Quick, we must set his other breaks while he is still unconscious." While they were setting the break in his arm, he let out a raspy yell. As her father splinted the stranger's arm and finger, Elaine fetched Nate to assist with setting the broken leg.
"Hold him down now…" Elaine held down his shoulders while Nate and her father struggled with his leg. With a grinding noise, the last bone was set. The pain startled the man; his eyes flew open and he grabbed at Elaine's arm. She stared into his eyes, holding him tightly as his blank stare melted back into unconsciousness.
What beautiful green eyes...she thought.
The stranger mouthed a word as she looked closely. She could not make out what he said. He then started to shake, his skin becoming clammy and pale. His body felt cold. She felt for the pulse in his neck.
"Father! His pulse is very weak." Her father looked up, having finished with splinting the leg. He shook his head, worried.
"He has lost a lot of blood I think. All we can do is wait and pray." He spread the wool blanket on the man.
"Does he need blood?" said Nate, breaking the silence.
"It could help. But, no." said the Doctor. "Nate, I know what you are trying to suggest. We have been lucky. You know it is very dangerous, for him and you."
Transfusions were a new procedure, they often ended in death for the person receiving the blood and weakness for the donor. Nate had successfully donated to three critically injured patients in the past with no ill effects to either party.
"I could give him some blood, no one has ever gotten sick with my blood." Nate insisted.
"Nathaniel. I cannot waste it on a man who will probably die anyway!" Said Dr. Dyson, looking at the pale face of the stranger. Elaine pulled the wool blanket up higher.
"Father, if it is his only chance…" She insisted.
"Please Dr. Conrad, I am being selfish. I feel responsible for what happened here." Nate started to say.
He went on to tell the Doctor about his meeting with the stranger on the horse and then the two dangerous men he spotted on the road.
"Please, let me give him a fighting chance. I feel I owe him." The physician scowled but nodded in agreement.
"Very well then. Lie down, Nate. I can't fight both of you." He acquiesced.
Soon warm blood was flowing into the stranger's cold arm. Nate turned to the stranger, noting the facial malformation with curiosity.
"I guess we are blood brothers now, hey cleric?" he said. After the transfusion, the servants assisted with moving the man to a small bedroom in the house on the second floor, relatively close to the medical office. Father and daughter sat for a moment in the bedroom, watching the man intently.
"I'll stay here with him tonight. Just in case he wakes up. He will be quite disoriented, and may hurt himself if he tries to move." said Elaine.
"I doubt he will." said the tired physician. "But do as you like, Elaine. I am going to bed." He walked over and placed a blanket around his daughter's shoulders and kissed her forehead.
"You were fantastic tonight, my dear. We have done our best for him, of that I am certain. The rest is out of our hands." He said.
She smiled and shut the door to keep in the heat after her father left. Walking up to the stranger in the bed, she laid a hand on his forehead gently. He was warmer now. She breathed a sigh of relief and uttered a short prayer for the sick. She laid down on a nearby chaise lounge and drifted off in a light sleep.