>>
|
40e503.jpg
Gypsy Chanting Powder
40e503
You dip your head and, throwing the village a last, cautious glance, follow the red-haired physician inside.
"Ramsfoot!" The woman calls to a flaxen-haired youth who peers out from what you assume to be the kitchen. "Réchauffer l'eau pour le lavabo, s'il te plaît," she says briskly.
The physician guides you to the kitchen table and motions for both of you to sit. She asks Duncan something and he stammers back in rough french, passing a hand across his throat.
She nods sagely, gets up, and disappears into a different room.
Duncan turns to face you. "I told her you can't speak," he says. "She'll see if you're too badly wounded, and I'm sure we'll be able to borrow some ink..."
Something clatters and the doctor reenters the room carrying a stack of paper with an inkwell perched atop it. She takes a seat across from you and slides the papers your way. "I suppose we should all introduce ourselves," she says, speaking latin now. "I'm Yve."
"Duncan." Your companion stands up to shake the physician's hand.
You pick up the proffered pen and dip it in the open inkwell. Randall, you write.
"Good to meet you, Duncan, Randall," Yve smiles lightly. "I've asked Ramsfoot to heat up some water for you, and I'd like to take a look at your wounds." She ties back her hair with a ribbon pulled from her apron pocket as she speaks.
"Sorry?" Duncan asks.
Bath then wounds.
"Ah."
You tap Yve on the shoulder. Can I speak with you alone?
She considers, then nods.
I am... You hesitate. Badly injured.
"Where?"
You gesture to the makeshift bandage covering your chest.
Yve nods again, and you catch her arm before she can turn away.
Please promise not to scream.
|