Off Center (The Lament) (28 page)

Pran
wasn't exactly a medical expert, her eight or nine hours of instruction aside. She
could pretend though, she realized, and started to bark orders, as Roy found a wall
and slid down it, clearly in as much pain as she was. If not more.

"I
want cool compresses for each of these people and fresh bedding. Their clothing
needs to be washed and their bodies checked for fleas. This room needs to be cleaned
constantly until everyone is better. Twenty-four hours a day. Get me a broom and
I'll do the first going over. Roy, I want you to wash after me. Mara, if you'll
check the town?" She didn't know for what, but the Guardian acted like it was
just common sense. She stood and was out the door before the cleaning supplies came.

She
made herself move, pretending not to be exhausted the whole time, even though her
hands didn't want to open at all, even to put the broom in it. When that was done,
she helped Gert strip everyone, as new clothing and bedding came. It wasn't a fun
task, since a lot of the people had soiled themselves, unable to stand to leave
the room. Most weren't really aware of what was happening either. When the last
person was cleaned and dried and the room had been washed, Clark came back, with
Dorvish, the headman's boy. Though calling him a "boy" was unkind. She
didn't want to bother with his age, but he had a man's beard and a wife that followed
him in, wearing a mask of her own. She looked to be about twenty-odd or so and was
better looking than anyone had a right to be given the situation. Pran nearly felt
jealous about it, for five seconds or so. After that she just couldn't care enough
anymore.

"Clark,
did you get word?" She stared at him, feeling ready to drop, and the man nodded.

"I
did, Doctor Pran. Doctor Millis said to tell you he agrees with what you're doing."
He lied so easily that for half a second she thought he was teasing her, instead
of reassuring everyone else.

"Good.
We need this entire town rid of fleas. No one healthy should do anything else if
they have even a spare moment. Everything has to be cleaned, over and again, until
there's nothing left of this sickness. The medicine will fix the ill people, hopefully,
but we don't want it flaring back up later." On the good side, she decided,
she sounded old and tired, as if she were so used to this that she wasn't really
concerned. "Also broth for the ill. Something thin. That and boiled water that's
chilled to room temperature."

Everyone
looked a little out of sorts over all the work they were expected to do, so Pran
snapped at them, not feeling up to stupidity at the moment.

"Do
it. Gert, you and I will work this in shifts. Dorvish too. Three a day for the time
being.
Everyone
cleans if they can, or the Guardians will be set to make
sure they do it. Move." She didn't say who was on things first, since of course,
it would be her. She was the bossy one after all.

Plus
they thought she was a Doctor. She nearly snorted at the idea, but made herself
move. Roy came with her, walking into the snow, going door to door. Clark stood
behind them, only speaking when the people inside thought they had better things
to do than clean. Sometimes they did, having children to attend or being busy with
cooking. Some of the men felt that only women should be made to do such tasks.

They
were wrong. She didn't even have to explain that, since Roy did it, yelling at the
cooper that was trying to get his daughters and wife to do it all.

"Everyone
means
everyone
you lazy halfwit! Your town may die. If you aren't cleaning
this place on hands and knees when we come back, I will personally have the large
Guardian drag you out into the snow and see you
flogged
. Do you understand
that?" He sounded serious too. Enough so that Pran felt herself being slightly
impressed. The cooper alas, was less so inclined.

"Now,
you listen here boy, I don't let any man talk to me in that tone, much less some
little snot nosed child that doesn't even have a beard!" He took a step forward,
and Pran moved, even though her body ached and screamed at her in pain, taking three
odd and out of place steps that had her behind the man, with her right knee nearly
giving out under her.

It
had worked though, and to anyone paying attention, or more to the point being slightly
distracted by the yelling man, it would look like she'd vanished and reappeared
behind the man. He wasn't that big, and Clark pointed at her, his face calm as half
the room gasped at what had taken place.

"That's
our Doctor. Not a Guardian, just the medical support. I don't think you really want
to find out what a ship's officer can do if pushed to it. I'd suggest cleaning right
now. We'll be back in an hour."

Pran
had to try not to limp on the way out. Her knee was killing her, but that faded
as they worked through the snow. The rest of the houses were easier to deal with,
but the place was large enough that they were not back to the coopers in an hour.
It was more like six. However it had happened the place was clean when they came
back and everyone was in fresh clothing and bathed. The man wasn't happy with Roy,
but he didn't try to fight him either. It was enough.

They
were led to Dorvish's home then, which wasn't the largest place in town, but had
a nice kitchen with a warm fire, where they were all going to be allowed to sleep.
The man seemed embarrassed by it for some reason, but she was too tired by then
to complain.

"Thank
you, for your hospitality. If you'd make certain that Gert is either on duty or
sleeping now?" Then she drifted off, until early the next day, when Betty wanted
her kitchen back. She got up slowly, unable to move faster, and at least had the
pleasure of knowing that Roy was no better off. She climbed to her feet first and
unbundled her jacket, which had become her pillow for the night's rest.

Then,
after being moved to the front room of the house, the woman started making them
all food. It was clean, even on the floor there, but the town had a public bath
house that they could use, with tubs that they were allowed to soak in for free.
Not everyone was, but since they'd come to help like they had, the woman that ran
the place was "honored" to let them use her facilities. There were no
fleas in the wooden structure, which was coated mainly in cedar and nicely scented.
The humid air was nice and her knee was looser an hour later when they got back
to Betty and Dorvish's for that food.

The
rest of the day was mainly a repeat of the cleaning duty stuff. They looked and
searched for anyplace a flea might hide and had every dog and much to their horror,
the cats, washed and scrubbed for them. The people too. Most didn't have a problem
with it, but a few had an odd aversion to being clean. They thought it would make
them sick.

Of
course by then most of them were also more than a little aware that the girl that
had come, with her very short brown hair, wasn't a real Doctor at all. She was simply
too young for that. When Dorvish mentioned it to Clark the next day, as people were
starting to do better, except the three who died in the night, the huge Guardian
rubbed at his scar and didn't answer directly.

"So,
is she a Doctor or not?" The man was being a bit pushy, as if someone had put
him up to it, but Clark shrugged.

"Either
she's a Doctor, or an Apprentice Bard that trudged halfway up a mountain in a snow
storm to save your town. Which do you think will make people happier in the end?"

The
answer the man gave was surprising, since Pran honestly figured that he'd say Doctor,
or let the whole thing drop then.

"A
Bard? An Apprentice at that? Amazing! I'll wait until everyone recovers to let them
know, I take your meaning. Still..."

On
the good side, the next morning they were able to take the remains of the medical
pack and trudge back down the mountain. It was easier going down, but still took
nearly as long. There was less wind at least, and when they got back into The Lament,
Pran was ready to sleep for a week. Except that she needed to practice, and also
had to see about her new instruments. Being tired was an excuse, but no one would
care, later, when she wasn't ready.

So
she was a bit annoyed when Paul came to find her in the woodshop, limping still.

"Bard
Pran? Captain Mina, Judge Claire and the Guardians would like you to meet with them,
in the Judge's quarters? They didn't say why, but it sounded decently urgent, if
I'm any judge of such things." He paused and looked at her, his face moving
into a slightly suspicious expression. "Do you really think that I look something
like that Zeke fellow? He's a fine looking man."

She
did, which meant nodding.

"Same
build, roughly the same through the face. He's a bit younger, but yes. Pretty similar
in looks. Though to be fair, I like you
loads
better."

The
man chuckled at her then.

"Ah,
good to hear, if nothing else. Thank you. I guess I'm feeling my age a bit, with
the gimp leg. So, message passed. I'll be seeing you." He left without looking
back, limping away, but with a straight back and a slightly jaunty air to the whole
thing.

It
occurred to her that the man might think she was flirting with him, even if he hadn't
acted like it at the time. What would she do if he wanted to have sex with her?
That idea didn't scare her in particular, she realized. For one thing, she could
just say no. Paul was a good man and wouldn't force her to do anything. Besides
that, she might say yes. If Roy could go around having fun with anyone he wanted,
why not her?

Then
she realized that if she were going to flirt with people, she'd have to do a bit
better than that. She knew what to do, but hadn't been bothering much, being too
busy.

She
finished cleaning up the space and wiped all the saw dust away, like she'd been
told to. It didn't take long, but given the warnings about that she figured that
running off and leaving things unsecured and dirty would not make her look good.
Then she jogged a little to get to the Judge's chambers. In all it was about fifteen
minutes later when she got in the room, to find everyone else sitting there, except
Mara who'd let her in.

Captain
Mina had a mug of coffee in her hand and raised it to her as if it were a salute.

"I
hear that you practically saved Hilden by yourself?" She wasn't being sarcastic,
but it wasn't true.

Pran
shook her head and looked at the others, one by one.

"It
was a combined effort and mainly the medicine. Plus, we lost a few people. The rest
was just me acting bossy and pretending I knew what to do. Acting, it's my job.
In part at least." She winked and moved to the empty chair next to Clark, since
he was her favorite person. It was still warm, meaning that it was the one Mara
had been in, but she moved to the one next to Captain Mina without comment.

The
woman took a slow sip from her mug and looked at the others, smiling a bit. It wasn't
a happy looking thing at all.

"Heh.
You know, that's sixty or seventy percent of leadership right there. Barking orders
and acting like you know what to do, while everyone else stands dithering. The rest
of it is the hard part. Getting it right so you don't lead people to their deaths.
Most of the time it isn't that hard." She brushed at her short salt and pepper
hair and leaned back a bit. "I was contacted about an hour ago. We have new
instructions from the High Council. We're to try and recapture the escapees, if
we can. More to the point, Guardian Clark and yourself are assigned that task."

Pran
made herself blink, as if she didn't understand. It wasn't a hard thing to pull
off, since she really didn't.

"Me?
What am I supposed to be doing in all this? Sing them into submission? Act them
into giving up?"

Clark
wasn't helpful at all, merely clearing his throat, which made a low and rumbling
noise in the otherwise silent room. Nearly silent, since the engines were running
there was that. Plus the sound of people breathing and moving. Also a tapping foot,
which was Claire.

So
not that quiet at all.

"I've
seen you do that before, if you recall? Had a man surrender due to little more than
you talking to him."

She
recalled the scene and it had worked.
Once
. It wasn't the same as being a
Guardian. Captain Mina seemed to get that.

"I
asked about it, but apparently High Guardian Saran managed to talk High Bard Clarice
into it. She's eager to have you with her, however. She asked me to tell you that
personally. Something about her not wanting to have to do her own laundry?"
She waited a beat and then laughed at her own joke. "No, really she mentioned
being impressed from the reports. Still those are the orders and they come from
your own people. You're supposed to aid Guardian Clark in this recovery effort,
if you can. Past that I'm not certain why, exactly."

Judge
Claire half snarled at the rest of them. Well, not, Pran realized, at
her
,
but the others. As if these orders were their fault.

"What
are they thinking? Pran isn't a combatant. Not a
trained
one. I'm going to
put in a complaint, with both the Guardian and Bard commissions. This is nothing
more than abuse. Placing an untrained person in harm's way is-"