[Bêthberry]

Bethberry left Aylwen in charge of The Horse and quietly returned to her room, where she pack a large, tattered cloak under her arm and a satchel full of healing salves and swaddling cloths. Returning to the kitchen, she conferred with Froma over plans for the dinner and then went to the garden, where, under the cover of the bush at the back, she donned the tattered cloak and walked away, hood up, down the ally away from the baker's shop. Slowly, she would make her way around to the shed at the back, where Froma had told her to meet Ruthven.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hold yourself together, man. Things won't look so grim then," Ruthven advised Aldor. He had been shaking and she had thrown a blanket over his shoulders, in case he fell into more serious shakes which could harm him. That much of healing she knew, but not much more. For Findur she could do little, for she knew not how to handle his raspish breath. An icepack had stopped the bleeding in his mouth and at the back of his head. And she had coaxed the baker to supply them with some warm tea. She was worried with the long delay, however, in treating the men. And anxious to get away to her work. She could ill afford to lose an entire day's work.

The soft fall of footstep was heard and suddenly a dark hooded figure appeared at the makeshift door. "Shush," warned the figure and with a toss of a hand, threw back the hood, revealing the Innkeeper. "I'm sorry for the delay. Many things requiring attention at the Inn. Now, what repairs are needed?"

A wavering Findur nearly collapsed, but Ruthven caught him. His face was cold, clammy and his skin blotchy. His pupils were small. He seemed not aware of himself.

Bethberry put down her bag and examined his head wound. His hair was matted with blood, but a large bump appeared around the wound. He coughed and with every breath seemed to wince. The healer added some feverfew and trillium leaves to the tea and bid both men drink it in small sips.

"It is a worry, this wound where the falling timber hit him," remarked Bethberry with pointed statement. We must keep him awake. Aldor, speak with him, keep his attention. Do not let him fall asleep while I apply a poultice to this wound." She lifted his shirt and saw two ribs poking against his skin. Luckily, the skin was not brokened. Tight wrapping would be all she could do for the ribs. She worked quickly, quietly, adding more agrimony as a healing wash to the basins of clear water which Ruthven would fetch when the first ones became too bloody to cleanse the wound any longer. Holding his head gently between her hands, she looked him in the eyes, speaking calmly to him. "I will give you some snakeroot leaves to chew that will heal your jaw where the tooth is broken and control the bleeding. You must remember to keep chewing them softly, to keep infection away. The man slowly came to look at her, the combination of her voice and the painful attentions to his wound bringing him back to full consciousness. She bound the head wound after applying a salve of beardtongue and mahonia and then swathed his chest with soft flannel, binding his ribs to hold them in place until they set. She turned then to Aldor, who all this time had kept up his patter with his friend.

His scraped knuckles were soon washed clean and the spoonful of monkshood oil which Bethberry gave him soon calmed his fretful demeanour. She washed his burned face lightly, again with agrimony, and cut away the singed hair of his scalp. She spread a thick salve of arnica over his face and scalp.

As she worked, she hummed a small tune under her breath and, slowly, both men began to hum it in time with her. Ruthven caught the beat with her foot, tapping the dirt floor as well as her frail limb could. The ministrations were swift and the time passed quickly. Finally Bethberry rose.

"Ruthven, you will be wanting to leave and ply your trade today, if you can."

The old woman nodded. "I know where some saddles and tack might be found, if any wish to trade to replace what they've lost, but I need to seek them quickly."

"Go, then, with thanks for helping us avoid the guard. They have little patience these days with strangers who disturb the peace, whatever the reason and, from the sound of things, we had a guest at the Inn who was none too charitable a soul."

"Indeed not, Beth. I was sorely tempted to hide his child away, for fear he would harm her, thinking that a child under his thumb was receiving her just desserts."

"They left Edoras?"

"It would appear, unless they have sought the other Inn."

"May the girl have luck."

Ruthven left and Bethberry turned to Aldor and Findur. "I have a wagon here, which I borrowed from our barrel maker, to help carry the timber. I can carry you back in it, claiming that you carried over your aid in putting out the fire into fiding the wagon for me. If we are stopped, I will attest that your wounds looked like they were indeed incurred in the fire, of falling timber and flames, as I was told by a grateful crowd. There will be a room at The Horse where you may stay until you recover. And perhaps work for you. What do you wish?"

She looked at both men and waited for them to reply.

[ 4:56 PM December 05, 2003: Message edited by: Bêthberry ]