Page 21 of Henry & the Dragon
The child took Henry’s hand, and led him through the streets. The further they got from the square, the more the buildings became like those back home. When they came to a hovel that even the least fortunate person in Innernook would have spit upon, the girl stopped and drew back a sackcloth that covered the door.
“Mama?”
The room, if you could call it that, was dark and dingy. Dust floated in the thin shaft of light from the door, as it raced to cling to any surface it could find. A cough, deep and husky, followed by a croaked, “Dmitra” drew Henry’s attention to the other side of the shadowed space.
“Mama, I have food.”
The woman struggled to sit up. With Anna’s help, she was able to lean against the wall. Henry winced at the scent of decay. He’d smelled it before, usually on farmers who were injured during harvest. The skin got dark around the wound,and festered until the person fell into a dire sickness. They never survived.
“No, please. I would rather you lie down.”
She didn’t lay back, she collapsed in a heap. “Who are you?”
“My name is Henry, and I am a healer.”
She shook her head, and even that tiny movement seemed a strain. “My time is nigh, Henry. Would you care for my most precious possession? My Dmitra,” she rasped.
“No, Mama!” Dmitra cried, throwing herself atop her mother. “I won’t go.”
“Please, let me see your wound.” Henry drew back the thin blanket, and did his best not to expel his empty stomach. “When did this happen?”
“I was helping with the harvest and stepped into the swing of a scythe,” she said. “At first it simply hurt, but as one day passed into another, the pain did not lessen. I packed it with the manure, but that only seemed to make it worse.”
Of course it did. Henry bit back a sigh. Did people not realize where manure came from? “Have you not seen a healer?”
Her gaze flicked to her daughter. “I had to choose between Dmitra eating or paying our healer. She will always come first.”
Henry hated that no one would help these people out of the goodness of their heart. Healers ought not demand coin from people who could not afford it. Surely they could barter. The healer cares for the wound, and their patient could clean instruments, or the healer’s house.
“I have some salve that I hope will help.”
He reached inside his satchel to retrieve one of the vials, surprised when the woman stopped him.
“I have no coin.”
“You need none,” Henry promised. “Consider this a gift for Dmitra.”
She stared at him. “Are you a witch?”
That made Henry chuckle. “No, good lady. Merely a student of the healing arts.”
He wanted to tell her the truth, that without getting help, she would likely lose the foot. And even if his ointment was able to deal with the wound, already thick with infection, she would never walk properly again. The gouge already wept a thick, sticky fluid, and Henry believed the injury only accelerated an illness the woman had. It was likely that his salve would only prolong her life briefly, even if she got help.
He raised the bottle from his bag, and opened the top. The smell, combined with the odors in the room, could make a grown man weep. He dabbed some on his fingers, then reached for the woman’s leg.
“This will hurt, I’m afraid.”
She nodded, and braced herself as best she could. When Henry’s fingers brushed over the deep cut, she whimpered, and Dmitra squeezed her hand. Henry worked as quickly as he could, not wanting to be the source of more pain. When he finished, he wrapped the area in some clean cloths from his bag.
“Let me fetch you some water,” he said. “You must promise me you will see your healer. I will leave a coin with Dmitra to allow you to do so.”
Her eyes gleamed, even in the dim lighting. “You are a blessing from the gods, Henry. Your mother must be proud of you.”
He truly hoped so. “Now you must rest. The liniment will drain the sickness, but you still need to sleep to allow it to work.”
He brushed the hair from her eyes. She reminded him of his mother, and how she sacrificed everything to ensure he and Merry were happy and content.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and Henry stood. “Dmitra, please show me where your food stores are.”
