Written for the 2024 Narnia Fic Exchange for lotl1.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: Gen
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Characters: Susan Pevensie Lucy Pevensie
Additional Tags: Golden Age (Narnia) Talking Animals Non-Canonical Character Death
Language: English
Collections: Narnia Fic Exchange 2024
Reposted from AO3. See the story there for functional links.
Four deaths, four funerals, no, farewells, Susan corrected mentally. She had been to dozens of funerals of course. In that other place. London. England. The War. It slipped further and further away each day she was in Narnia. Like water through her fingers.
Susan knew though that she had been to funerals. The wrap she wore against the late Spring chill had a dark yarn woven through it, from the black Sheep herd that grazed around Cair Paravel. She'd worn a black dress … it belonged to someone else … she'd fretted about the fit… someone … a black dress … it had been mother's dress …
Who is my mother?
She started at the sound of a beak rapping the shutter of her Palace office. "Yes! One moment!" Susan swiftly rose from her couch and pushed open the wooden panel.
Prestu, the Kestrel, hopped into the room. "Your Majesty, Queen Lucy and King Edmund have been seen on the road. They should be here any moment."
"Thank you, Friend."
She ran through the Palace and met her brother and sister on the Palace steps. There was no fanfare even though all of the Four were now in residence; someone would be hoisting Lucy and Edmund's pennants to join hers and Peter's on the north tower. It was almost midday, but very subdued and a dull pall hung over all of the Cair. Lucy and Edmund were thanking their lathered Horses and the swift escort who had brought them home from Beruna-town so quickly.
Horace bumped Lucy's shoulder with his nose. "Loosen our girths, would you?" Susan had to help her as Lucy wasn't quite tall enough to manage the buckles on Horace's saddle; Edmund did the same for his mount, Leelo. The Talking Horses had volunteered to fetch their Majesties and bring them back to Cair Paravel for this – latest – crisis.
"We'll just pop back to the barns for a proper meal and rubdown," Leelo said, shaking her mane out and showering them with her gray hair.
"The Herds will farewell Tedi at sundown," Susan managed to keep her voice from cracking with grief.
"Oh! Tedi?!" Edmund cried and Lucy heaved a dry sob. The old Mare had been their earliest riding instructor, going back to their first camp, just over a year ago, with Aslan.
Leelo and Horace's heads and ears drooped and they shuffled off together toward the stables.
Edmund sniffed and rubbed his nose on his sleeve. "Your note said four died. Who were the others?"
Susan enveloped them both in a hug. She hadn't known the other fallen very well and had vowed to remedy that. "Ioke the Satyr, Fier of the Maza Blaksa Black Dwarf clan, and one of the Eagles, Sal. Lucy's shoulders shook.
"We did, finally, carry the day," Susan continued, pulling slowly away so they could all collect themselves. "Though the Giants were far better prepared than that party we saw right after our coronation."
A year ago they had easily driven back a small group from the northern moors who had taken advantage of the receding long winter to confirm the Witch's death. Now in this, their first proper Spring, they all should have been celebrating the official bonding of the Four to Narnia. Instead, barely a month later they were marching to war. "The General calls Spring 'battle season' and Sallowpad believes they are probing our borders to test our resolve."
"And they will keep doing it." "Edmund sniffled again. "Where's Peter?"
"Still abed. Our Masters of Arms and Swords got him rip-roaring drunk last night on Dwarf Lightning." Lucy's hiccup was part grief, part laughter. Susan allowed herself a small smile. "At dawn, they were still trying to teach him to swear like a soldier."
"I should definitely go wake him up," Edmund replied. "Merle can help."
Lucy's hiccup turned into a proper burst of laughter. Merle was an enormous and very dim Boarhound, and Edmund's constant companion when they were both home.
"ED!" With perfect timing, Merle burst from the garden gate, covered the distance in two leaps, and bowled into Edmund.
"I missed you, too, Merle." Edmund rubbed the Hound's great head. Susan would wait until they left to flick away the spittle from Merle's jowls that had coated her sleeve with the Hound's boisterous arrival.
"I think you should get Foggy to help, too," Lucy added.
Foggy was a very vocal Donkey.
Susan had her own contribution to the matter. "And Merle, do make sure you call the High King 'Pete.'"
"That's his name!" Merle replied cheerfully. "Come on, Ed. Let's get Foggy." He inhaled deeply and then sneezed all over them. "He's at the orchard eating rotten apples."
"If he gives himself a stomach ache, I'm not curing him." Lucy put a protective hand on the cordial at her side. Susan wondered if there was less of it than before but that may have only been driven by her own incessant fretting over the situation.
As Edmund trotted after Merle, he tossed over his shoulder, "And Lu, if you don't give Susan the whole story, I'll tell Peter, and we both know that will be much worse."
Susan awarded her sister a raised eyebrow; Lucy sighed over-dramatically and rolled her eyes, indicating that the whole story was something she would enjoy telling no more than Susan would enjoy hearing.
A polite throat-clearing prompted her to turn around. Of course, as they had been talking, the Palace's housekeepers had whisked away Lucy and Edmund's modest baggage (neither ever traveled appropriately). The Centaur escorts had murmured quiet goodbyes, taken their leave, and made for their own quarters. Some of the Hounds and a few Crows were loitering about them, undoubtedly hoping to overhear more news and place wagers. Narnians were the most scandalous gossips and gamblers.
"As you'll be wanting a good talk, I've had Cook set up an early luncheon for you both in the kitchen gardens," Mrs. Furner said brusquely.
Susan injected, "Thank you, but…." as Lucy started, "Oh that's not…" They both swallowed their words with a stern look from their Red Dwarfess housekeeper. Mrs. Furner was shorter than Lucy but very intimidating.
Susan recognized this battle lost before it even began. "I did not have an appetite this morning, so thank you for accommodating us now."
Lucy looped her arm in Susan's own. "I've been eating road rations, so thank you, Mrs. Furner. And please thank Cook for being so kind and thoughtful."
They all smirked but no one, fortunately, laughed. Cook was a Minotaur, her horns nearly brushed the ceilings of the Palace kitchens, and you never, ever said anything other than "Thank you, this is delicious," about her culinary creations.
Arm and arm they went together through the gate in the Palace walls to the kitchen gardens. Her own office would be better than the garden, but Lucy was most comfortable in less-confined spaces. Her sister's face was dirty and tears had left grubby streaks down her face. Susan resisted the temptation to scrub them off with her handkerchief.
Mrs. Furner had put a blanket on the grass between the vegetable patch and the fish pond. Susan realized she actually was hungry and then remembered that she had not eaten a proper meal since before Peter and the Army had returned from the Giant battle at the border two days ago. Together, she and Lucy attacked the cheeses, nuts, bread, early greens, and over-wintered apples.
Susan let out a deep breath and felt the tension and fear that had lodged within her begin to ease. Lucy was not her usual cheerful self, but just having her close helped. "Thank you for coming back so quickly. I understood from Edmund's last letter that things had improved in Beruna-town. Selfishly, I desperately wanted you home. But I would have never…"
"We would have been very cross if you hadn't let us make the decision ourselves, Susan." Lucy pulled off her riding boots, one at a time, and then her socks. Her socks had holes and her feet had sizable blisters, but these were the sorts of pains Lucy always ignored. "I know you want to hear about what happened to us but…" Lucy's voice thickened and Susan quickly rested her hands on Lucy's arm.
"There's much I don't know. We'll have long Councils once the farewells are completed – and Peter is sobered up."
Lucy scrubbed her eyes. "Farewells? You mentioned that for dear Tedi?"
"Something I've learned only in the last two days. It's what Narnians call funerals – they are all different, for each type of Narnia. Which makes sense given how they are about, well, everything."
"Ask three Narnians a question and you get four answers."
Susan smiled a little and nodded. "The same logic applies to how a Narnian leaves this world for Aslan's Country. There is some mourning for the dead but, overall, each ceremony is a farewell, where we wish the deceased a good journey to Aslan and his Country."
Lucy sniffed and around a mouth stuffed with cheese managed, "And since they all live differently, each Narnia dies and goes to Aslan differently, too."
"Yes. The Dwarfs asked for Fier's body – Peter and I handed him, excuse me, I mean, their body and their weapons." Another bit of Narnian culture she'd had to learn to avoid giving offense. "What more the Iron Clans do isn't recorded anywhere. But the ceremonies for others are recorded in the Animalia and Botanica. You heard about Tedi's farewell that will be this evening. The Herds ask that her body be buried so that she might nourish the grasses. Sal's farewell is at dawn tomorrow; she will be burned so that her ashes can continue to fly with the other Birds."
"And Ioke?"
"He will be returned to his mothers, the Trees of the Owlwood; the Satyroi say that Pan will come and take his body and remake another in his likeness."
Lucy sniffled again. Turning a wrinkled, leathered apple over in her hands, she took a deep breath and muttered the Narnia adage, "Waste not." It was the height of rudeness to refuse what had been so scarce. With barely a grimace, she bit into the leathered fruit. "I suppose Peter is blaming himself?"
Susan nodded. "It's why Sir Leszi and Master Roblang got him drunk last night – to hammer some sense into his thick skull. In their words, 'You did nothing wrong, you did everything right, and we know this business better than you do so listen to us and stop being an idiot.' There was more swearing, though."
"But of course, he feels responsible. And will be feeling the after-effects of too much Lightning. None of my cordial for that!" Lucy almost giggled.
"The General told me Peter led admirably. No one blames him or any of the Army's leadership. It seems the Ettins can move through caverns and tunnels beneath the hills along our northern border that we didn't even know were there. The Giants were well into Narnia before we even spotted them. But the General had been suspicious when she heard rumors of small earthquakes and strange noises and smells around the hills of the Giant's Teeth. She took a company herself with Peter to investigate. They were ambushed, but managed to drive the Ettins back into their tunnels and across the border."
"And four died," Lucy concluded bitterly.
"The General was very blunt, Lucy. If we have to go into battle to defend ourselves, Narnians will die." She leaned forward from her cross-legged position and again rested her hands on Lucy's knees. "To you, I'll whisper that our subjects are all very matter-of-fact about it. There is sadness, and everyone is in mourning but they aren't angry. Master Leszi told me that warriors who fall in battle have earned a deserved rest in Aslan's Country. I've been scolded for sounding selfish if we try to deny that to them. We are expected to mourn but we must not let our own grief keep the dead from their journey home."
Lucy leaned forward and whispered in return, "Narnians can be so queer sometimes." She rubbed her face on her hand and considered the new grime on her sleeve. Susan had hoped she would be congratulated for her own restraint in making no mention of it.
Then, Lucy's face hardened and she pushed away. In a voice full of reproach, she said, "I should have been there, Susan. I could have saved them"
She had known Lucy would feel this guilt as strongly as Peter did; it was as unwarranted.
"And so you should have left the Kort clan and everyone else in Beruna-town to die of the wasting sickness you saved them from?"
"Well, no. But…"
"Or manage whatever else happened that you don't want to tell me about?"
Lucy glanced away, not meeting her eyes. Her sister had moved from sad and reproachful to sneaky. "And?" Susan prompted.
With a sigh, Lucy flopped her hands into her lap, stretched out her right leg – with a slight wince – and pulled up her trouser leg. Susan stared at a long, pink scar that ran along her sister's shin. "You can barely see it. Even the scar will be gone by tomorrow."
Susan was sure her heart stopped beating. She let out a deep breath. "You had to use your potion on yourself." And it must have been a frightful injury as it had not yet fully healed.
Lucy nodded. "I want to rail against that grim Narnian view that bad things just happen, but then, a bad thing just happened, to me, yesterday."
"What was it?" Susan managed evenly.
Lucy shrugged and chewed on her apple. "Edmund had thought maybe the drinking water at Beruna-town had been fouled and that could have been what caused the fevers. So we dredged the spring. And did find some vile things. We'll have to talk about that later but it might have been deliberate and not just something left over from the winter. As we were waiting for the spring to refill, I tripped, fell, slid into the ravine, and didn't stop until I ran into a dead tree. I…" Lucy swallowed and pulled her trouser leg back down – Susan now noticed that her clothes weren't Lucy's own or even Edmund's. "I was covered in mud and my leg was broken and…"
"Your bone broke through your skin."
She nodded. "It hurt a lot. I knew it was serious and there wasn't anyone with the skill to help me. There's a Badger in Beruna-town who is clever with herbs and such but she had fallen ill herself. Even then, she would have tried but a Queen's human leg was far beyond what she had ever done. I was worried about infection, too, given the muck I'd fallen into."
Susan remembered there had been something in the other place that was new that could stop infection… something about mold. And germs and it was called penny-something. Pennysilo? Pennyil? Silin? Whatever it was, she'd not seen anything like it here. All they had was Lucy and her cordial to treat a whole population of wildly different Narnians and four young human monarchs.
"You did the right thing, Lucy. And you and Edmund needed to be where you were. You saved lives, including your own. Even if you had been with the Army, you couldn't have saved all of them."
Lucy stared at her leg and rubbed the place where she had taken such a frightful wound. "How did they die? Do you know?"
"The General said that Fier and Sal both died immediately. They were hit by thrown boulders. You being there wouldn't have changed anything."
"But the others, dear Tedi and Ioke?"
Susan couldn't, wouldn't hide this. Lucy would be furious, rightly so, if she attempted such a thing. They obviously had a problem and Lucy was important to the solution. "Their injuries were beyond anything that the company could treat. You might have been able to save them. Ioke had taken a serious wound to the gut and Tedi had a broken leg, just as you did, but of course in Horses is very serious." Susan mustered herself, swallowed, and continued. "They both asked to be released from their service to Narnia and to die honorably on the battlefield so they could go to Aslan with pride. So…"
She wasn't sure if Tedi and Ioke had ended their suffering themselves or if others had eased their passing. She wondered if Peter had undertaken the battlefield mercy himself. It was something he would do, and then be wracked with guilt after. She was very glad the Masters had gotten him so drunk last night, even if the swearing and songs had been reprehensible.
The partly chewed apple fell from Lucy's hands and rolled away. She bowed her head, clasped her hands in her lap, and began whispering to herself. Aslan did not appear but Susan felt a breeze ripple through the garden. She should have spoken to Him sooner.
Thank you. Guide me. Help me help them. Keep me strong.
A few minutes later, Lucy raised her head. Her eyes were red, her face was a pattern of smears and drips, and she had that look – the one of utter resolve. It meant something was going to happen and no one could stop it.
Perhaps the Narnians had a point. Sorrow and mourning had their place; but what happened next?
"Susan, we can't keep relying on my cordial and I can't be in two places at once. If we'd had a proper physician, they could have gone to Beruna-town and investigated the cause and maybe known a cure. I could have been with the Army."
Or the other way around. Susan kept that heartfelt plea to herself. She had to, as it were, pick her battles carefully with Lucy. Instead, she said, "I agree, Lucy, and had been thinking the same thing. We can't keep relying upon your cordial to fix everything or you'll run out in short order. We need a physician who can treat us and Narnians."
Lucy nodded. "Yes! But who? I've spoken to some of the Centaur healers. I can't do what they do at all; it's a bit wooly and their cures are all tied up in their magic."
"And a lot of smoke." Peter had hallucinated for two days after participating in a Centaur ritual.
"Hoka – she's the Badger – is the first Beast I've met with any healing skill. She would like to learn more but needs a teacher. And you know, we didn't even have battlefield medics at the Battle of Beruna. Everyone relied on me and Aslan and that is not sound."
"You and Edmund already discussed this." Susan heard Lucy's conviction and Edmund's counsel in her sister's words. She was so grateful that she did not have to do this all herself or convince others of its necessity.
Lucy nodded. "We did. I'm embarrassed I didn't think of it sooner, Susan. But I don't know what we should do next."
"I thought you and I might start in Archenland. King Lune has physicians in his Anvard Court. We can speak to them."
"Yes!" Lucy picked up her discarded apple, blew off the ants, and took an enormous bite. Around her mouthful, she managed, "We'll find someone in Anvard."
They did not find someone in Anvard.
Lucy groaned and threw herself on the couch in their lovely, stuffy, exceedingly human rooms of the Anvard castle. "Absolute buffoon."
Susan glanced at Hilde, the Archen maid who King Lune had assigned to them. They hadn't wanted a servant but the ladies of the Court would put on airs if the wild Narnian child-Queens didn't conform to their expectations. Hilde continued to calmly arrange the tea tray and Susan saw her mouth twitch in what seemed agreement rather than disapproval. Asking Lucy to moderate her comments would just make it worse; with a pounding headache, Susan knew she was in no mood to temper her own words, either.
She would, at least, try to be more diplomatic. "I admit to distrusting his claims of miasmas causing illness."
There had been something… in the other place. A sign. She'd seen it on the streets. On trains. What train? A wagon train? "Cover coughs Cover sneezes"…. Germs. Viruses. Influenza.
"It is my understanding that germs, things you touch, eat, or drink, and being around other people who are ill will often make you ill. I don't think miasmas have anything to do with it." She did not expect her own medical understanding to surpass that of the Anvard Court Lord Physician.
"And the filth!" Lucy shuddered. "He didn't wash his hands or instruments." That Lucy would complain of lack of cleanliness was indeed remarkable. And deeply concerning.
"He became very condescending when you pointed it out," Susan added. Apparently washing your hands was only for the peasants of lower Anvard town and not for the Lord Physicians of Archenland. She rubbed her temples, wishing there was some remedy for her headache.
"He thought wombs wander?" Lucy snorted. "What does that even mean?" She looked down at her own midsection. "Susan, does your womb have fits and decide to relocate to your left armpit?"
"I shouldn't think so, no." She could not imagine seeking this man's advice for her monthly pain.
"I was very concerned with his statement that any injured animal should just have their heads cut off," Wrasse, their Black Panther escort added.
"You are so right, Wrasse!" Lucy chorused. "Completely unacceptable!"
That Wrasse was concerned enough to issue a criticism was even more striking than Lucy commenting upon cleanliness, and lack of it. Wrasse was quiet to the point of being standoffish.
"Well, as he only treats humans, I did not think he would necessarily be skilled in animal care," Susan tried. But Lune's Lord Physician had been very cold to, and wholly ignorant of, any animal care. He would never have understood the grief among the Herd at Tedi's passage to Aslan's Country, or the mourning of Sal's mate.
She propped her elbows up on the table and rested her aching head in her hands. Maybe tea would help. Or the limp, pale sandwiches on Hilde's tea tray. Archenland food tended to be plain, salty, and over-cooked. The Cair Paravel Cook was temperamental and Susan couldn't stand all the liver and kidneys, though she recognized that Narnians were very thrifty after the Long Winter and it was unthinkable to not use "everything but the squeal." When she was in a good mood, though, Cook was very skilled in making delicious food.
"This man has no respect for beasts, Talking or dumb," Jina said. Jina was a young Hound bitch who had accompanied them from Cair Paravel as an escort.
Susan nodded into her hands then remembered Beasts might not understand the gesture. "Yes, Jina, I believe he respected beasts no more than he respected Narnian Queens."
"As Talking Beasts, we can be dismissive of dumb animals but we always treat them with respect. 'Out of dumb beasts we were taken and into them we can return,'" Jina intoned, quoting the Great Lay of the Creation of Narnia. Susan hadn't known Jina well before this trip and had been very impressed with the Hound's sense and sensibility.
"I show more regard for the dumb beasts I eat," Wrasse put in, sounding so superior Susan almost laughed but saw that the Panther was very serious. "Most Talking carnivores thank their prey for giving their lives so that we might live."
Hilde set the teapot down with a clatter that set the cups rattling. It was perhaps the reminder from Wrasse that she was in the room with a Big Cat that could eat her.
"You may leave whenever you wish, Hilde." Susan wanted to put her at ease. "But please do not repeat…"
"I believe Hilde has remained because she doesn't like the Lord Physician and has something to say to us," Jina said in a very gentle voice.
Hilde glanced at Susan, biting her lip. Her nerves might have just been because a Dog had spoken to her so politely. But it was notable that Jina had noticed something beyond nerves that likely seemed helpful and had spoken up. She would commend Jina for the initiative later.
"Would you talk with us, Hilde, about what else you know?" Jina asked.
"You may speak plainly to us, Hilde," Susan said. "We will respect your confidences as you respect ours." Hopefully.
"Thank you, Queen Susan." She bobbed a little curtsey. "If I may, your majesties, but all sensible folk in lower town know that the best way to die fast is to go to a Lord Physician. The Anvard Lord Physician, well, I'm sure he's fine with battlefield amputations or if the Lords have eaten too much at dinner. But …"
"But…" Susan prompted.
Hilde blurted out, "I know no woman who would ever rely on him to cure anything and you and your baby will die if he gets near your birthing room."
"That's monstrous!" Lucy yanked off her court slippers and flung them across the room.
Jina was gentler and put in, "Thank you for telling us. How difficult for all of you to not have someone you trust when you are hurt or sick."
Susan marveled that Jina's statement was perfect to draw out who they did go to for competent care.
Hilde nodded. "Well, it's the Lords' loss to be sure. Lower town folk just ignore them and since we don't want to die, we go straight to the Midwifery College. It's upriver and outside the Anvard walls, so it can be harder to get to if you're sick but the midwives say they get cleaner water and air there."
"Midwives?" Susan was confused. "But what of fevers and broken bones? Maladies that are not about birthing?"
"The midwives do all that, Queen Susan. They just aren't permitted under Archen law to call themselves Lord Doctors."
"What rot!" Lucy muttered.
Hilde added a little milk and sugar to her cup and handed it to her. "Thank you, Hilde." Royal, the Narnians called tea with milk and sugar. Narnians from the Long Winter still stewed bark; they would never have put milk or sugar in their tea. It had tasted strange at first… there had been no sugar for tea during the War… What War? She tried to remember. Where? When?
"Women who want to be healers, and others who don't hold with the Lord Physicians' ways, just went and created their own college. They call themselves midwives so they aren't accused of being Lord Doctors and getting in trouble with the Court of Laws." Hilde snickered and stirred extra milk and sugar into a cup and presented it to Lucy.
"Thank you, Hilde," Lucy tried to sit a little straighter on her couch. "Do the midwives treat animals, too?"
"They do, your Majesty. The last few years, I've heard they've taken on more animals. I know folk who've brought their milk cow, or plow horse, or herding dog to the midwives. They at least recognize how important good stock are and don't just say cut their heads off and buy a new one."
Jina, Lucy, and Wrasse all growled. This time, the sound was so menacing, Hilde fled with the tea cart, and before they could try the sandwiches.
It took them so long to make their way through lower town to the Midwifery College, Susan wished they had ridden and taken a larger and grander escort to clear a path. That, though, wasn't Lucy's way. It was a market day in Anvard-town and so there was much to see and taste, and many, many people. It felt very odd to be among so many humans again. This was her first journey out of Narnia since the winter broke and it was always strange to be in a majority again.
The experience did offer useful intelligence gathering and increased her confidence in this peculiar course of action. Everyone she spoke to happily talked of the midwives and how smart the Queens were to be going there. That, at least, was a pleasant change from the judgmental ladies of Lune's court who held too much influence and far too many opinions.
Though, there were a few dark looks and mutters of "don't go taking our midwives," which Susan assured them was not the case, though she felt guilty for saying so as luring a competent physician to Narnia was absolutely their priority.
Two interactions were heartening, if peculiar. One farmer gestured to his sturdy ox tethered to the market stall. "Mighty strange midwife for an ox, but I'm grateful all the same. Saved my harvest and my farm last autumn." A shepherd selling her raw wool nearly wept. "He cured my prize ram and saved my dogs. Pallus will be so happy to see you!"
Susan assumed that Pallus was one of the midwives who treated animals.
Despite the crowds, Jina and Wrasse didn't growl too often, though people gave the Panther a wide berth. She and Lucy were well accustomed to mud so the lower town spring sludge was no concern and it smelled much like home, though more human than animal. Lucy dashing off into every stall, and behind every curtain was causing her more worry than the jostling people with baskets, wagons, stock, and wares. Her headache returned; Susan was determined to put a good face on it and forced a smile. Jina, though, seemed to be on to her and kept glancing at her with an expressive look of concern.
She was relieved when they squeezed among bleating goats, geese, and ducks and out the town gates. The road was still clogged with carts and wagons stuffed with goods and drovers and dogs driving flocks and herds but she could breathe again. Lucy skipped gaily on ahead with Wrasse beside her.
Their guides had said to turn west at the crossroads. Susan was startled by a marker at the westbound road – a post buried in the ground and a cross perched atop it painted a now faded red.
Lucy was already striking off down the road and she called her sister back. "Doesn't this look familiar? I know I've seen this red cross before."
"I think I saw something like it in Galma. Maybe Terebinthia."
"No, that's not it. It was something else…." Somewhere else.
There was a curtain falling over this misty, fragmented memory. Susan wanted to push it back … she was sure there was more behind it. But Lucy was eagerly pulling on her sleeve and drawing her away. "The College is this way. It's not far!"
A smooth cobbled road led them to the College, making Susan wish that a single Narnian path or trail could be so well-maintained. Others were with them on the road. An elderly couple were riding a mule together and all three of them were coughing. Two young women, both well along in pregnancy, were driving a pony trap, and a very worried farmer was leading a limping plow horse. There were a few others on foot, as they were, and with nothing outwardly wrong.
A horse briskly clopping behind them made Susan turn around and she and Lucy moved to the side of the road to allow them to pass. The horse was pulling a white wagon with a big red cross on the side. There were two children huddled with a man in the back of the wagon and the driver was a woman in gray trousers and overshirt; her dark hair was pulled into a tight braid. She was wearing a white armband with the same red cross on it.
The driver pulled the horse to a gentle stop. "Anyone need a ride?" Her eyes swept over the crowd and settled on her, Lucy, Jina, and Wrasse. "You're the Narnia Queens? We heard you were coming. But on foot?"
She sat straight in the wagon's seat and had a deep, confident voice.
"Hello!" Lucy cried. "Yes, we walked from Anvard! I wanted to see the lower town market and it's not so very far!"
One of the children in the wagon began crying. Susan thought she looked fevered. "Please, do not wait on our account. See to your patients. We shall be there soon."
"I can send…"
The second child began crying.
"Go!" Lucy made a shooing motion with her hands. "Thank you ever so much but we are fine!"
"Right ho! I'll make sure Pallus knows. Ask for Midwife Hope." With a light touch of the rein, the horse moved forward and broke into a brisk trot.
Susan was becoming very curious about this mysterious Pallus.
Around a final curve in the road, a sign announced they had entered the grounds of the Midwife College of Anvard. Beneath the now familiar red cross were the words, "Order of Queen Helen."
Wrasse and Jina stopped to study the sign, which did not entirely surprise her. Many of the Beasts living in and around Cair Paravel could read even if they could not write.
Lucy had been investigating the swift running stream that cut a deep culvert at the side of the road and bounced back to join their escort. At some point, she had stuck spring flowers in her hair. "What is it, friends?"
"This sign says Queen Helen," Jina replied, perhaps not knowing that her monarchs could also read.
"Could it mean Narnia's first Queen?" Susan asked. She recalled from the Great Lay that Narnia's own queens and kings had established Archenland. She had understood that, though the line had broken in Narnia, King Lune could trace his lineage back to King Frank.
"Jina and I both have heard a story of Queen Helen being a healer," Wrasse replied.
"I don't know it very well," Jina added. "It's very popular with Woodland Beasts."
"Because it's really about them." Wrasse spoke with such smug superiority, Lucy laughed.
"It's odd that King Lune never spoke of this to us," Susan said as they began walking toward a compound of stone buildings. "Nor did the Lord Physician mention it."
"But if it is about midwives and what they think is women's work, maybe they don't even know about it." Lucy was still fuming.
The drive to the cluster of buildings that made up the College cut through rich, growing fields spreading on both sides. Susan saw poppy, stands of willow, yew, and fruit trees, foxglove, and a plot of early grain; there were many other plants she did not recognize. There was also a large greenhouse next to the stone buildings.
The wagon they had seen earlier was stopped at the front of a large, squat, homey stone building; the horse was on a loose tether and drinking from a trough. A few people, many wearing gray as the driver had been, were going in and about the gardens, buildings, and the courtyard they surrounded. It was all so peaceful. Standing upon the threshold, Susan suddenly felt a wave of intense feeling and her heart and throat tightened. There was something so familiar…
Lucy inhaled deeply and sneezed. "It's so nice here! This is much better, isn't it, Susan? Susan!?"
Lucy repeated her name and then her sister was at her side. "Dearest, are you alright? You're crying. Should I…"
Susan hugged her sister fiercely. "I'm fine. I'm not upset." Susan dabbed her tears away and gazed at the flag of the red cross on white hanging above the doors of the Midwifery College. "I don't know why I'm weeping. I can't explain it."
"I can," Lucy plucked a daisy from her crown and tucked it behind Susan's ear. "It's relief. We feel safe here."
A competent and kindly door warden performed a "triage" to determine that they did not require any medical care and had been instructed to ask for Midwife Hope. They were handed off Dily, a very energetic guide who managed an awkward, bobbing curtsey and was thrilled to escort the Narnia Queens and two Talking Beasts.
She talked even faster than Lucy did.
The building was sparse, bright, and scrupulously clean; there were no drawn curtains or shutters on the windows and all were flung open to the Spring air. Dilys waved toward a passageway leading to the courtyard and beyond to another, much larger building. "That's where we see patients. People who are infected are in a separate building altogether, of course."
"Of course," Susan murmured as Lucy smiled.
"The odor of vinegar and alcohol is very strong," Jina asked. "Is there a reason for that?"
"To kill germs, of course. We use it on everything. And everybody!"
The everybody included themselves. Dilys showed them to a washroom where the smell of alcohol was so strong, that Jina's lip curled. She and Lucy had to wash their hands with a thick soap (made at the College! Dilys said) and then vinegar; Jina and Wrasse were asked to wipe their paws on vinegar-soaked rags. They were all instructed to not put their hands (or paws) in their mouths.
Dilys brought them to a spacious room that appeared to be a combination workspace and library. Shelves lined an entire wall and were filled with rows of thick and thin leather-bound books, neatly ordered scrolls, and sturdy wood boxes holding parchment. There were models and pictures of the human body, and long tables stacked with books, ledgers, and notes.
"Midwife Hope is finishing surgery and will be with you shortly."
"Dilys, could you tell Mr. Pallus that we would very much like to meet him, if he wishes and if it is convenient for him?" Susan asked. "We understand that he may be expecting to meet with us?"
"Oh, I'm sure he is!" Dilys spoke with considerable feeling. "He's spoken of how much he misses Narnia for years."
"So Mr. Pallus is Narnian!" Lucy was dancing on her toes with excitement.
"Oh yes, ma'am, most assuredly!"
Dilys backed away so quickly they couldn't ask any further questions.
Her haste seemed odd.
"Lucy, do you have the sense that people become very evasive when speaking of this mysterious but skilled, Mr. Pallus?"
Her sister just shrugged and, keeping her hands behind her back, studied one of the models (male). "He is Narnian, after all! And he's been here, by himself. Since he's been here for so long, he surely left to escape Jadis and the Long Winter. He probably left under dreadful circumstances and must be terribly lonely."
"True."
Jina was nosing carefully about the room, with special attention to a corner table that was separated from the others by some distance. Having learned how purposeful the Hound was, Susan joined her. The table had pamphlets on Comparative Analysis of Beast and Dumb Societies and Digestive Care of Ruminants. Two thick, leather-bound tomes were also on the table, Materia Medica – Common Ailments of Narnians And Their Cures and Formulary of Botanicals, Homeopathy, Pharmaceutics, and Other Remedies. Both books look well-used and well-cared for. Many pages were bookmarked with thin strips of plain silk ribbon.
She carefully lifted the cover of the Materia Medica to one of the bookmarked pages, For Relief of Minor Pain.
For temporary relief of minor pain, headache, aches, sprains, strains
Recommend: Willow bark powder diluted in boiled water or diluted cider (refer to Botanicals, Homeopathy, Pharmaceutics, and Other Remedies for instruction on harvest and preparation)
Used for: Humans, Satyrs, Fauns, Centaurs, Horses, Cattle, Rodents
Not for use in Felines and human children; use caution in Canines
First treatment for pain; if patient does not respond or becomes resistant, consider syrup of poppy;
Exacting descriptions of how much to give depending upon the size and species of the patient followed. Carefully closing the Materia Medica, she opened a ribbon-marked page in the Formulary to see detailed instructions on the making of coal tar for skin diseases. There were entries on the medical properties of silver, and the extraction of medicines from poppy, goatsweed, and coca.
She'd never seen anything like them in Narnia, indeed, had no idea such knowledge even existed. The books were a precious treasure trove of information about and for Narnians. Yet, how odd that the books were not in Narnia but here, at a Midwife College in Archenland. She felt vaguely proprietary, and jealous.
On the table next to the books were neat stacks of parchment, a box for scraps, ink, fine quills, and crisp sheets, with notes written clearly.
Patient presented with thrush in right fore and left fore hoof. Recommend soaking in lake salts, packing hoof with rags soaked in vinegar. 2 X day; 10 days. Clean, dry bedding, changed regularly. Light work only on dry, soft surfaces. Recheck if not resolved.
There were similar medical notes for many others, for broken wings and legs, colic in horses, fever in cows, cough in dogs, rheumy eyes, birthing for all manner of beasts, and more, all carefully recorded in the same neat hand. She greatly admired the organization and skill evident in this methodical work.
"I believe we have found Mr. Pallus's work table," Susan said to Jina. The Hound was sniffing an old, badly scraped wooden stool at the table. It seemed oddly shabby for a room that was otherwise so neat.
"Yes, Queen Susan. It is curious. Though I smell Humans throughout this room, I do not smell them strongly here. Perhaps they do not wish to sit close to a Narnian." Jina's lip curled slightly in what looked to be disapproval.
She should not continue to be surprised by the sensitivity and perception of this remarkable Hound. "Can you tell what sort of Narnian Mr. Pallus is? A Faun? Or Satyr?" The space did not seem large enough for a Centaur.
"I believe the Narnian that comes here is one of the Woodland Beasts, a Rodent. A large Rodent." Jina paused. "And a Rabbit, too, though that scent is not as strong."
"A Rodent?" Rats, Mice, Beavers, and others were skilled in using their paws. A Rat often helped her and Lucy with lacings when they dressed. Mrs. Beaver managed a sewing machine. But as a physician?
"Jina, can you tell…"
"Your majesties! I apologize for keeping you waiting!"
Midwife Hope was the sort of person Susan would want at her sickbed. Her face was kind and lined, her fingers seemed long and clever. She exuded a warm and professional practicality and you only noticed secondly that she seemed too young for someone who also was so learned. She was wearing the same gray overshirt and trousers they had seen on others, with the red cross on a white armband.
"The honour is ours," Susan replied.
She and Lucy both curtsied and Midwife Hope laughed. "I won't shake your hand or even get too close as I've been in the surgery all day but it is an honour to host your Majesties."
Lucy sprang out of her curtsey. "Thank you for letting us visit! This is such a lovely place. And everyone is so kind. Please meet our two friends who came with us, Jina, she is the Hound, and Wrasse, who is the Black Panther ."
"Thank you for having us, Midwife," Jina replied, using the title correctly, Susan noted. "You all should be very proud of what you do here and how well you do it."
Wrasse muttered a quiet "Hello," and retreated to a corner.
Typical Cat versus Dog.
As the Midwife's gaze lingered on the diamond cordial at Lucy's hip, her sister gently lifted it out of the holster.
"We have legends of the Fireflower," Midwife Hope said reverently. She bowed, not to a Queen, but to the precious Gift. "None have ever seen it."
"Do you have any patients who are beyond treatment?" Lucy asked. Susan was always struck by how her little sister could, within moments, shift from gay and cheerful, to ever so solemn. "I would be honoured to help you."
This bow was to Lucy herself. "Thank you, your Majesty, but fortunately we have no patients today who are in such severe condition. Please save your precious Gift for when it is most needed."
Midwife Hope gestured to the closest table and flopped inelegantly into a chair. Susan thought she heard a low growl from Wrasse who evidently did not feel her monarchs were being treated well enough. However, this was a busy place where saving lives was more important than a visit by neighboring royalty. The Midwife's clothing was spotless and her hands appeared reddened and damp from fresh scrubbing – she had surely had interrupted her day and had to change clothes and vigorously wash before meeting them.
"We greatly appreciate your time and do not wish to keep you long from your patients," Susan promised. "It did seem we were expected."
The Midwife snorted, more disgusted than amused. "We heard that you'd had the typical experience with Lord Physician Hackley. But we've been expecting Narnia for some time, ever since the Long Winter broke."
"We didn't know about you until yesterday!" Lucy answered. "So we're very sorry if you've been waiting."
"It's already been a century, so we could wait." Midwife Hope replied, smiling. "We knew Narnia would eventually turn to retrieving Queen Helen's Library."
"Queen Helen?!" Lucy exclaimed. "You mean Narnia's first Queen? We've seen Order of Helen everywhere!"
She hadn't been surprised to see two Narnian Queens, but Midwife Hope was surprised by Lucy's question. "Yes, of course. Queen Helen was a very skilled healer." Midwife Hope gestured to the book and scroll-lined shelves. "Half of that library belongs to Narnia. Queen Helen wrote the Materia Medica of common ailments and cures and the Formulary for how to make medicines. Her practice notes, of course, are long gone, but they have been copied and revised over the centuries. The core of accepted patient care at the College and in many other places remains much as she practiced it." The Midwife tapped the white armband she wore. "The red cross on white were Queen Helen's own royal colors."
How had they not known any of this? "And the Order of Helen?" Susan asked.
"The Order admits those who have learned her teachings and committed to her practices." The Midwife sniffed. "Unlike those Lord Physicians who don't think a woman writing over 800 years ago could possibly know more than their miasmas."
"I bet there aren't any wandering wombs in her books," Lucy retorted.
The Midwife laughed. "No. There are not. Queen Helen never had the patience for such nonsense."
As she had now officially been sitting too long, Lucy bounced out of her chair to begin investigating Queen Helen's Library.
"But how did her library end up here?" Susan had heard nothing of this collection and they had been trying for the last year to rebuild the Cair Paravel Library - over the Long Winter, its books and records had been scattered across Narnia and hidden from Jadis in caves and homes.
"According to the account we have," Midwife Hope gestured again toward the library shelves, "Princess Philomena, the last descendant of the Narnian royal line, was a physician in the Order of Helen. As the Long Winter advanced, so the story goes, the Princess knew that Jadis would destroy any learnings about humans or how to heal Talking Beasts. Queen Helen's Library was a treasure of Narnia, in many ways as precious as Fireflower. The Princess loaded the collection into a cart and, in secret, Talking Beasts pulled it out of Narnia. They made it over the mountain pass to Anvard, barely, and left the library here at the College for safekeeping."
"Thank you so much, Midwife, for keeping this treasure safe!" Lucy was brandishing thin books in each hand. "Susan, this one is on Counseling a Bereaved Community. We could have used that with Tedi's passing. And the Guide to Mating Rituals would have been very useful during the ruts last year and all the mating this Spring."
Fortunately, Midwife Hope did not seem taken aback by a young Queen's sophistication. Ruling Narnians meant accepting them as Aslan had made them and Susan had shed many of her judgmental misgivings and preconceptions in the last year. "Lucy, do see if there are any others that would be especially helpful for us now."
"We know that the Princess was the last King Frank's line in Narnia and she died as Cair Paravel sank into the sea to deny Jadis the victory of the prophesied Four Thrones," Jina put in, sounding very sad. "But the story of the rescue of the Queen's Library is not in those stories."
"I imagine it never made it over the mountains and back to Narnia," Midwife Hope said. "The Narnians who made the crossing couldn't return. They joined the diaspora at the frozen border and the tale probably died with them. It was done in secret. No one that remained in Narnia likely knew of it. "
And how much else had they lost? There was so much they did not know.
"Thank you for telling us all this," Lucy said, returning to the table with an armful of slim, leather-bound volumes. Nutrition for Lactating Mammals and Nesting Birds was on top. "We walked here, so we'll have to come back to fetch it. But before we do that, do you have everything you need? We would never leave the Order of Queen Helen here without the Queen's Library."
"We do. We've had a hundred years to copy it. We've made additions ourselves as we've discovered medicines and therapies that are safer than what Queen Helen knew. Pallus also has correspondence with physician societies in Calormen and those learnings are now in both our libraries. He has also added his own knowledge of animal medicine." She gestured to the books Lucy had gathered. "Many of these are his work."
And so they came to the mysterious, very much admired, competent, and organized Mr. Pallus who wrote regularly to learned societies in Calormen and was annotating and improving the teachings of the greatest physician in Narnian history? Why would such a paragon wish to come to Narnia? Why would the Midwives part with him?
"Yes, Pallus!" Lucy injected before Susan could begin a probing query. "He seems splendid! How did he come to be here? We've heard of Narnian Horses and other Talking Beasts being kidnapped, I do hope it wasn't anything horrid."
"No, nothing so evil, Quee Lucy. He and Bethe arrived nearly five years ago."
"Bethe is the Rabbit?" Jina asked. Again, Susan was so grateful for Jina's assistance.
Midwife Hope nodded. "You can ask them of it but it has always been mysterious. They were trying to escape Narnia through the Anvard pass and surely would have gotten lost and died there but Pallus says a cat guided them."
A cat?
No. A Cat. The Cat. Aslan's paw is in this?!
She glanced at her sister; Lucy nodded at her and winked.
"Oh, yes, that does explain it," Lucy replied, sounding very sage. "Midwife Hope, do you think Pallus and Bethe wish to return with us? It sounds as if they do! We shall ask them, of course, as what they wish matters most."
It was a less polished comment than what Susan would have made but, as usual, Lucy was also absolutely correct in how she had framed the matter and prioritised the well-being of Narnians.
"I was warned to not poach any of your Midwives," Susan said. "If Pallus and Bethe return to Narnia, will this be a concern?" Their own need was great but if this was going to spark a diplomatic issue, she would need to proceed delicately and probably call on Peter to use his relationship with King Lune. And of course, if Narnians wished to return with them, it would be as Lucy had hinted and it didn't matter how much the College wished to keep them.
"If you were proposing to lure one of our Midwives away to Narnia, I think it would be very unpopular. But Pallus is a Narnian Beast, not an Archenland Midwife. Bethe is his companion and assistant, and also a Beast. We would be glad to see them return home."
Susan felt as though she was missing something. Midwife Hope had been very open about the history of the library. Where the Narnians were concerned, she was far more guarded in her phrasing. She glanced at Jina, wondering what the Hound felt. Jina was back at Pallus's work table, sniffing the scratched stool. The Hound lifted her head and her brows were knit with an expression of concern.
Something isn't right.
"Midwife Hope," Jina began. "Is Pallus…."
The Midwife rose so quickly, her chair nearly tipped over. "It is not fair to keep discussing Pallus when he is so eager to see you and already packing his bags. I'll just go…"
Midwife Hope practically ran out of the room.
"How very odd," Lucy said. She was just starting to sit and then lept out of her seat again as a large Rabbit bounded into the room. She was a glossy, shining white with a gray undercoat and black tips on her ears, nose, and feet.
"Your Majesties! It is my honor to meet you! I am Bethe!" The Rabbit executed a perfect bow, her nose brushing the floor.
Rabbits tended to talk so fast that it could be hard to understand them. Lucy usually dealt with them. However, Bethe was very well-spoken. Susan rose from her chair as Lucy dashed over to greet her.
"Bethe! I'm Queen Lucy and this is my sister, Queen Susan, and we are so happy to meet a Narnian!"
"Thank you, Queen Lucy. I…" Bethe saw Wrasse still lurking in the corner and stomped her back feet. "My apologies! My instincts responded before my mind could. It has been a long time since I have been this close to carnivores."
"I won't eat you," Wrasse said. Which somehow didn't sound as encouraging as it should have.
Jina trotted up and Bethe stomped again. "I apologize for my nerves. Good morning Lady Hound."
"Good morning, Bethe. I am Jina."
Jina then turned and butted her nose into Susan's leg. "Queen Susan, I believe I know…"
"So, Bethe, where is Pallus?!" Lucy cried. "We so want to meet him. Do you both want to return with us to Narnia? It seems you've done so well here and are so clever but we really need a physician in Narnia."
"Oh yes, Queen Lucy! We've been so hoping. Pallus has been corresponding with Maudine Ormsby and she was sure he'd be welcomed and…"
"Maudine Ormsby?" Lucy repeated.
"She's at the Cair, Queen Lucy. Your Cook? She's been writing regularly to Pallus to make certain that her meals were nutritionally adequate for your Majesties."
Cook had a name? Other than "Cook"? Cook's name was Maudine Ormsby?
Followed by, I've been forcing myself to eat liver and kidney twice a week because of a Rodent's views on my nutritional adequacy!
"Queen Susan," Jina repeated. "I…"
"And where is the mysterious Mr. Pallus, Bethe? Susan and I so long to meet him. We've heard so much about him!"
Lucy was ebullient. Susan had a feeling of mounting dread.
"Well, Queen Lucy, he's ever so excited. We both are. But Pallus can be a mite prickly, so I typically handle his first introductions."
"Oh, we get on with everyone, Bethe. I'm sure it won't be a problem. We have all sorts of personalities at Cair Paravel. Even Otters! Everyone is welcome and I'm sure Mr. Pallus will be exactly what we need."
"Queen Susan!" Jina was sounding more urgent.
"Yes, Jina, what is it?"
There was the sound of a strange swishing and rattling noise coming from the hall outside the door.
"That's Mr. Pallus," Jina said, sounding, if Susan could credit it, alarmed. "And 'prickly' doesn't begin to cover it."
"Or him!" Bethe said cheerfully. "Or rather, all of him, you see!"
"Oh!" Lucy cried, sounding delighted and maybe terrified. Susan certainly was.
Framed in the doorway, Mr. Pallus was taller than Lucy was. Spectacles on his nose magnified his small eyes. Removing the spectacles, he swept into an elegant bow. "Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, I am Pallus and am your most humble servant."
The cultured, educated, competent, organized Mr. Pallus, with a library of the finest medical texts in the known world, and correspondence with elite Calormene medical societies, and who had apparently come to them via a path set forth by Aslan, was indeed the largest Rodent she had ever seen.
And a Porcupine.
A giant black and white Porcupine with quills out his back longer than he was.
Soft, white quills were brushed back from his head, giving him the appearance of the most learned greybeard. A – her brain amazingly supplied the word – stethoscope dangled from his neck. Where did a Porcupine come by a stethoscope?
Lucy was struggling mightily to not laugh and murmured, "I can't wait to tell Peter."
Susan very carefully edged forward and held out her hand as far as she could. Pallus bent over it and kissed her signet ring.
"We are well met, Mr. Pallus. Narnia thanks you and welcomes you and Bethe home."
Casting about for additional, correctly gracious words to cover this situation, Susan's imagination failed her. Instead, all she could manage was, "Mr. Pallus, might you have a remedy for a headache. Mine is especially acute."
Mr. Pallus, a Cape Porcupine ((Hystrix africaeaustralis) here and here.
Bethe, a snowshoe rabbit or hare (Lepus americanus), here or possibly a Rex or Himalayan.
The story of Peter learning to drink and swear after his first battlefield losses is in Chapter 19 of the The Queen Susan in Tashbaan.
Yes, I've added "Red Cross Nurse" to Helen of Narnia's backstory.
In 1864, the Geneva Conventions established the Red Cross emblem as the universal symbol of neutrality and protection in armed conflict. The Red Cross emblem was also adopted to identify the humanitarian services of the Red Cross national societies.
The Significance of the Red Cross Symbol, at redcross dot org
In 1905, the British National Society for Aid to the Sick and Wounded in War was renamed as the British Red Cross. It was granted its first Royal Charter in 1908 by HM King Edward VII. Queen Alexandra became its president.
British Red Cross, at redcross dot org uk
The Boer War (South Africa 1899-1901) was important for British military nursing as it was the first major conflict for Britain in which nurses in large numbers had been deployed, and at the end of the war a new nursing service was created, the Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service (QAIMNS), which saw nurses becoming a formed component of the British Army.
British Army Nurses at britisharmynurses dot come
The dubious Narnia wiki timeline sets the events of The Magician's Nephew at 1900, though that doesn't square fully with details in the novel. Certainly, it is post-Crimean War and possibly post-World War I if we push it out 15 years. Helen might have seen service in the Second Boer War, the first instance where British nurses were deployed in the field. She, of course, did not necessarily have to have been deployed in combat but perhaps Frank was a rank and file solider and she was a nurse.
Yes, I've assumed that she brought vast medical knowledge to Narnia, including germ theory and infection control, and spent her entire life trying to make from scratch medicines that had been readily available to was, by the way, another DEEP research rabbit hole. The references to willow bark, silver, the grain being grown (to distill alcohol), the making and use of vinegar, the poppy, coca, yew, and coal tar, were all very carefully researched.
Pallus's name comes from a reader from a long time ago who was writing a Peter romance set in my Golden Age verse. His ownership of the stethoscope is unexpected but wholly explainable. While it would be awesome to think of it as an heirloom of Helen's, stethoscopes have been made from wood, ivory, and natural rubber latex for a very long time. A tube-like mono-aural stethoscope had been in use for centuries; the binaural stethoscope was invented in 1851 with the design perfected in 1852 and has been the medical standard ever since. More here and here, among many others. If Helen didn't have hers in her pocket when she was summoned from her washing day, she certainly would have worked with Dryads and Dwarfs to get the materials to make one.
Miss Maudine Ormsby is the name of a lovely Holstein cow elected as homecoming Queen at Ohio State University in 1926.
As is typical of my Golden Age vision, Archenland doesn't come out very well, being more typically medieval (or something) in practice, beliefs, classism, and gender roles. That the Lord Physicans haven't adopted germ theory (gentlemen and Lords don't need to wash!) and the (not) role of miasmas in disease are simply a continuation of that chauvinism. If women do it, it must be wrong, right? And yes, I think when Aravis arrives on the scene, she brings radical change and better hygiene and food.
I introduced the importance of the Red Cross to Lucy in Heart and Crow Go To War, now posted on AO3.