chapter 2: meeting the Otkazat'sya healer
The light was fading into colors of pink and orange when Kara left the prince's side to meet with the other healers in the main room of the infirmary. She was exhausted, the events of the day taking their toll. The early morning skirmish had almost decimated the 4rth battalion. The Ferdjans had mastered a combination of explosive chemical powders. The infirmary had been receiving soldiers with torn limbs since then. She exchanged with a few healers to take note of patient improvements, worsening conditions, departures and new arrivals in her absence. The other healers refereed to her without question. It had taken a year for her to establish her position, her practices being foreign. The benefits had been shown and the trust earned since then. They spoke kindly to one another. She had insisted as head healer, despite the demanding rhythm of their mission, that they take the time to be kind and exchange often.
Luka had not left her side, following her like a shadow. She chuckled, " off you go now young man, I do not want to have your teacher come to me if you miss your lessons". Luka pouted, " I am learning just as much with you and I do not get threatened with a walking stick". Kara smiled, " We can talk about plants and ointments tomorrow. You've earning your rest for today". She rested her hand on his shoulder, " you did well today". Luka was swelling with pride; " Yes, lady Kara". He trotted off happy, ready to boast to his peers of his contribution to saving the prince of Ravka. Once the other healers had been given new instructions, Kara started moving towards two cots that had been left disheveled with heavy blankets, bloodied cloths and bandages. She moved to clean and reorganize in order to prepare for future arrivals. As she moved to gather clean supplies, she felt a presence in the darkening room. It felt somber and lonely.
She stiffened and called out to the darkest corner of the room, " Why linger in the shadows? whoever you are, make yourself known". Alexhander knew his presence was not welcomed near the agonizing men of the first army infirmary. The tension between Grisha and Otkazat'sya was a fact and both armies endured the presence of the other in displeasure. Being a shadow summoner and a general created a further distance with others. The few minutes he had lingered in the shadows had given him time to observe her more closely. She was tall for a women, leveling him on that aspect. Her light blond hair has been cut short to her shoulders, a practical move for a healer on the battlefield. long enough to tie back, but short enough not to get tangled in quick movements. She was pretty, not a beauty like most Grisha women once they had tapped into their power but still noticeable. As he pulled the darkness back and stepped into the light, he noticed her eyes were a stormy blue. He guessed that she must have some Fjerdan blood in her.
It was quite easy for Kara to guess who her visitor was. She had seen him enter the prince's room with the heartrender and healer Grisha. Everyone knew of the shadow summoner who became a trusted general to the king, in exchange for a safe-heaven for Grisha. " General Kirigan, to what do I owe this late evening visit? The prince is still unconscious and safe. No need to linger, I gave him a potent sleeping draught. Come tomorrow morning if you wish".
Her arms full of supplies, she started to prepare the 2 empty cots, adding blankets, quilts and a pitcher of water at the end of the beds. Alexhander followed closely, scanning the infirmary. it seemed to be calmer now, the wounded has been tended to, no new arrivals were to be expected. The men were either sleeping or talking softly between themselves, half hidden under the blankets for warmth. He caught one or two glaring his way. Kara winced as she leaned forward to pick up a blood stained uniform and massaged her neck with one gloved hand and her lower back with the other. Alexhander could not doddle long, he had an evening meeting to attend to. " Actually I came to congratulate you. Had it not been for your quick thinking, prince Dimitri may no longer be among us." She shrugged the compliment aside, going to a water basin to wash scalpels, pincers and needles uses for stitching. " I got lucky that's all. That and more than 15 years of healing diverse wounds, illnesses and ailments help forge good reflexes". The general nodded, the explanation seemed rational. He looked into the distance musing, " Our healer Ania praised your stitches. It's not everyday that she approves of another's work." Kara chuckled, all the while trying to massage the throbbing in her back and neck. " Was her pride left intact? It must of hurt for a Grisha to acknowledge an Otkazat'sya." The corner of the General's mouth twitched in amusement ever so slightly, "Indeed, I believe it stung". He grew serious once more, " I know of few surgeons who can quickly identify where to stitch and cauterize a heavily bleeding wound. Even fewer who could do it properly." Kara had finished cleaning the utensils and was wiping them dry, " what is the hidden question general? ". He placed himself to face her " How? How did you know where to sew?". She sighed, " how does a bird know how to fly? I do not know how to answer that question apart from experience, a dash of intuition and a stroke of luck perhaps?" She looked at him from the corner of her eye. " I am tired general. I have a few more patients to tend to before crawling into my tent, so if you'll excuse me". Alexhander was taken aback. It felt very much as if he was being dismissed. He regained his composure, " of course", he bowed slightly in her direction and started to make his way towards the entrance of the infirmary.
He heard yelling as a group of men made their way in a strange lopsided clump. Two men were carrying a third, his arms slung across their shoulders. The wounded one was sobbing " I can't feel my legs". It looked as if he had taken a piece of shrapnel in his lower spine, the back of his snow covered uniform torn and bloody. " Over here!" The general turned to see another group of three, a wounded soldier on a stretcher was holding a soaked cloth to his neck, his breath gurgling through a torn throat. Indeed, it would be a long night for the healers of the First Army.
Kara tended to the two new wounded as best she could. She had given the one with the wounded back a potent sleeping tonic, for she knew her surgeon skills would not fix his ruptured spine. She has managed the bleeding and reduced the pain. The man was sound sleep. She would ask Luka to call upon a Grisha healer if they would even agree to it. The other wounded was more urgent yet easier for her to tend to. The man was in a poor state. The pain had made him delirious. His breathing was wet and jagged. His body weak and his eyes unfocused.
She grimaced and removed the bandage from the man's neck. She gasped at what she saw. A bullet had ripped the skin and muscles and cut through several veins. Luckily enough, no major blood vessel seemed to have been punctured. She wrinkled her nose. It would be long hours of stitching, cleansing and treating before she could rest. Kara asked a healer apprentice for boiling water and set to work.
Kara was indeed an expert healer but seldom explained how she had learned all she had. 15 years of experience cannot be summarized in a 5 minute conversation. The Fjerdan banished old healer who had taken her in after finding a half frozen orphan on his doorstep, had initiated her to plants and herbs, hitting her hands with a bone of elk when she did not remember which plants to combine for ointments or potions. She still remembered the sting on the skin and her tearful answers. His technique was brutal, but it had worked all the same.
She became very good at memorizing detailed information. Through years of observation passed down through generations, Fjerdans had been able to find remedies for almost every ailment, a must in their inhospitable surroundings. Once she had learned all she could, the old man had pushed her out gruffly with few parting words. "Travel" is all he said. And so she did. She left Ulensk and traveled to the outskirt of Shu Han, gone through the tundra of Fjerda to proceed then to Novyi Zen and later Kerch. Each country, province or town had different practices in medicine, giving her a wide overview of options in healing. She had learned the scientific approach of the Shu and experimentations, gone to the university of Novyi Zen to learn anatomy, talked with old hags in Ketterdam for poisons and remedies. Her only regret, was to never have visited West Ravka by crossing the fold. Just the idea of stepping on a sandskiff gave her goosebumps. When she felt ready, she approached the First Army, asking for work as a healer. She knew it was where she could be most useful.
She disinfected a needle with fire and set to work, first closing the torn muscles and then tending to the skin. It was tough work since the bullet had pierced through the neck completely. she had to pause regularly to flex her fingers, numb from the cold. She had learned about hygiene in Novyi Zen and had forced all the healers of the First Army to boil all cloths and bandages. She had shown through several case studies that fewer patients succumbed to grave infections after these measures. She was therefore very careful with such a deep wound to keep her hands clean and to cleanse and disinfect the wound as she sewed each new layer of flesh together. It was close to midnight when she finished. One of the other healers had taken pity of her and brought her some diner left unattended by the soldier's bedside. She was exhausted and sore from bending over the wound. She was happy however, that her training had allowed her to save him. She set a salve made from evergreen tree sap, a viscous smelly ointment on the wound before wrapping the soldier's neck in clean bandages. He was sound asleep, having knocked him out with a drink of Kvas and poppy oil. For good measure, Kara took a minute and sent out a prayer to the saints, that the soldier may make it out alive from this ordeal. She then collected her utensils to be washed and cleaned for the following day. Once she had cleaned her station, one of the healer's addressed the update on their stock of ointments, herbs and potions. They were running low on several and finding time to collect or make them again as well as taking care of the wounded would prove difficult. " I'll think of something" said Kara to Seraphine who was in charge of the stockroom as well as preparing salves, tonic and oils. She instructed a sleepy Artyom taking the night shift to give poppy oil to the two newly arrived patients if they were to wake up before her arrival the next morning.
As Kara crawled under the covers in the tent she shared with the other healers behind the infirmary, she thought again about the strange encounter with General Kirigan. Was he interested because of her young age? She had had a tough time convincing general Biryukov to take her in as head healer for that same reason. She had had to prove herself to him as well as the retiring head healer at the time.
It had been painstakingly slow but she had managed to gain their trust and respect after several years of hard work. She was head healer for almost a year now and her days were filled with planning, attributing tasks to the other two healers, completing their training as well as hers. She continued to learn by making visits to the Os Alta university library a few days a year, seeking new parchments and studies in the health/medical section. Her dream was to have one day access to the grand library at the palace.
The healers had appreciated her approach in delegating interesting new practices and preparation of mixtures unknown to them until then. Artyom had resisted at first, as some can resist change when it is too drastic for their liking. Kara had been patient and taken the time to prove the benefits. The only thing she had not been able to change was their reticence to call upon Grisha healers when they had reached the limits of their craft. "They look down on us", had sniffed Artyom," why should we give them reason to denigrate us by calling on them? we can make it without them". A shouting match had ensued to which Kara had not been able to reason with him or with Seraphine. She had given up and decided to call upon Grisha students in training which seemed to offend her peers less than calling on the full-fledged healers. The Second Army head healer had haughtily agreed under the condition a student Grisha volunteered.
Kara almost gave up when no grisha healer manifested. Only Luka, an Alkemi had agreed in exchange of training in the use of medical herbs. He was a funny young man, infinitely curious about everything which would serve him well in life. It was thanks to him and his constant talking that she learned of the different orders of Grisha and the fundamentals of the Small Science. She had listened intently, asked questions to which Luka answered with pride. It was this knowledge that had popped into her head as the prince's heart had stopped after she had manage to stop the bleeding.