(reposted as I accidentally posted this in the Poetry Category - P.)
Looking at the glum-faced healer-apprentice, Parnard wondered where to begin. He must phrase his words delicately, in order not to vex Laurelindo further. This elf was not like certain others in the company, and he did not wish to crush his feelings by a poorly-chosen turn of phrase. Very sensitive he is, Parnard thought, and perhaps a little proud.
These Elves he had fallen in with were the proudest folk he had ever met. He glanced around. There was Telpenaro and Himwen, cobbling together yet another dismal meal from whatever they could forage - and, to the Mirkwood elf’s eyes, it did not seem near enough food. Lord Tindir was sitting beside the campfire, deep in contemplation, or perhaps he was resting his mind from worry, and the realization that Lord Veryacano had no idea where to find the Lord Anglachelm, and was grasping at straws. And there was poor Lord Estarfin, grim-faced and restless on the cold ground, every so often wincing from his wounds.
Over by a large rock, far away from the group, crouched Nirhen. The savage she-snake. She certainly sounded like a snake, when she was hissing to herself as she stitched up the gash in her side. Earlier in the evening, Parnard heard her snap at Laurelindo as he offered to treat her injury, and belittle his ability. Stay away from her, Estarfin warned him. She is like to bite my ear off, Parnard thought with a shiver.
“You would never guess it, good Laurelindo,” he said gently, “but there was once a time when the Lord Estarfin and I did not get along as pleasantly as we do now. We were deep in the snowy wilds of the bitter North, at the icy camp of Vindurhal. I was in hideous pain from a broken limb, and Lord Estarfin – well, I have never thought to ask him why he was so testy then, but I suspect he is not fond of needle-like sleet stinging his eyes, and freezing him to the skin. That was a time when our friendship was sorely tested, Laurelindo, but we proved its mettle then, as we have time and time again.” He nodded, smiling. “I owe him very much,” he said, all of a sudden.
Parnard had never seen Laurelindo look so unhappy. He thought his pride was wounded; perhaps he was ashamed that he was here for nothing when he found his skills wanting. Often, the proudest are the ones who suffer the most, when things fall apart, as they are sure to do in this wretched world, and their lives unravel to bits. They feel disgraced, and so it is harder to bear such humbling. Parnard considered it. Well! This seems deep, very deep. I will write it down later tonight in my journal, when the others are resting, and then I will think on it. The meat smells toothsome - I wonder if it is done cooking yet? His reverie of dinner was disturbed by Laurelindo, who crossly asked if he was going to stand over him humming, or if he had something more to tell him.
“Indeed, yes, my friend!” said Parnard. "There is something I would say - are you sitting on a sharp stone? You certainly sound like it. Now, I did not wish to overstep my place - you are a trained healer, after all, and where would the Lords Veryacano and Estarfin be without your ministrations?” Parnard hesitated a moment before quickly adding, “And myself, too! You must not take the criticism so hard or think us ungrateful, my friend. We are foot-sore and weary, and there is no sign of where the Lord Anglachelm was taken. Lord Veryacano seems to be at a complete loss, and quite despairing – I think it might have addled his brains. Oftentimes, my friend, folk vent their spleen on one another, or lose their wits entire, when they find their troubles particularly hard to bear. Then again, some folk are simply - disagreeable,” Parnard said, giving a careful little bob of his head toward Nirhen.
"I have wandered from what I wished to say! I do not wish to intrude upon that which is your field of expertise; it is not my place to do so. However, I have had some experience as a field-medic, when I served in the Golden Host, and I have seen my share of injury and illness. And, although it is not my place, and I hope you will forgive me for saying so, there are still many things to learn. There is always more and more to learn about the world, Laurelindo; although we have gone far on our path, and learned much about it, more always follows for us. I once felt the way you do, as a matter of fact. Then I was chosen by Lord Anglachelm to be the Ambassador of Vanimar. He saw some spark of quality in me that, in his ineffable wisdom, made me very well-suited for this purpose. And, as I am the Ambassador, it is not my duty to care for the hurts of the Household. I am no flincher - but, truth be told,” he said, lowering his voice, “I am not as knowledgeable as some; I confess that I know more about wines and stitch-work, than I do about the healing arts, ahaha!"
Parnard paused, gauging the effect of his words upon his glum companion. “O, Laurelindo!” he cried. “There is no shame in admitting ignorance, my friend! One must do what he can to dispel it.”
Laurelindo sat in stony silence; and Parnard, anxious to lift his hurt feelings and dispel his cloud of gloom, blithely continued on. Never was a heart so intent on executing its commission! “If I may take the liberty of bringing to your attention certain aspects of your skills, which I have noted over the course of our journey, you may find it quite edifying,” Parnard said, smiling down at him.
“Now, my friend, you must, by all means, avoid staring at your patients, especially if it is Lord Estarfin or Nirhen, because they do not like to be goggled. Therefore, you must be quick in your estimation with these two, as they will not tolerate any staring, or too much poking and prodding. I dare say, not many of the others in this company will, either, but I think I can bear it better than most. You remember that time when you wrenched my ankle, causing me great pain? - that is the complete opposite of what a healer is to do. Do not look so crestfallen! You could not help it. It is quite alright now, only a bit weak and wobbly; but listen, my friend, a healer must learn not to aggravate his patients, and he should keep his voice even, and free of irritant, even if he does not like to treat them, or they are, shall we say, adverse to his attentions, or dubious of his ability. Well, well, do not look at me like that! We all must start somewhere, and there is nothing more insufferable than someone who overestimates his skill in anything, or crows about his knowledge, when his knowledge is sorely wanting. Laurelindo, why do you sigh? You do not do that, of course!
"Let me tell you of some of the signs to look for upon injury. It is most important to note the color of the skin, and its integrity, and the contortion of the features, or the dilation of the eyes and nostrils, or any restlessness, which is a sure sign of pain that even the most silent and stout-hearted of patients cannot help but display.” Parnard motioned at the prone figure of Estarfin. “It is also important to note the particulars as to how the malady happened; especially in the cases where poison may be involved. You will recall how I turned rather greenish when I was stuck full of vile orc-poison. It was a sure sign of the poison creeping thro’ my veins, which alerted you to the fact, long afterwards.
"You must not overlook anything, and you must listen to your patient, as well as you are listening to me now, and hear of their aches and pains. If, for example, he complains of the right side of the chest, and is coughing, you know the lung is there, and it may be affected. Oftentimes, when one part of the body is damaged, it affects another. I am certain you know this most rudimentary of concepts, Laurelindo, so I shall not speak no more of it. Having determined which part of the body is hurt, then you must ascertain the nature of the ailment, and note the signs. By checking the breath, and its smell, and the pulse of the patient, and the color and heat of the skin, (I prefer to use the thumb-method, over the armpit), then you can check for poison. If you must, you can take out a pen, and draw on the patient’s body, at those precise spots at which you find anything untoward or out of the ordinary, and make notes there. Oh yes, I can tell, by the surprised look upon your face, you have ne’er heard of such a practice, but it must be done if you run out of parchment!
"And if there is throwing of blood, or a discharging of anything else that should not be, you must look at it. I know, it is not pleasant, but you must do it. Is it pulpy? Is it akin to curdled whey? Is it flecked with blood? That is a problem, you know. And if they complain of a fire in the vitals, well! – you had best roll up your sleeves, and get ready for the worst, my friend! And if their skin is pale, and their limbs flabby, it means they have lost much blood, and now they are bleeding inside. Then you must tap them – not a like a tree, but with the fleshly part of your forefinger over their chest. If you hear a dullness over the heart, that is nothing to worry about – that is the part that is covered by the left lung, where the sound is dullest. But proceed outward from this point, in small circles, tapping and listening, and mark the place where you hear the thudding of your finger. And, pressing your head gently against the chest, you can hear the blood inside, and whence it spills, and how thick, and if there is hope of healing. And if they are swelled up, and turning livid, and their breath comes shallower and shallower, or is fitful, or rattling, and the pulse is feeble, and the jaw drops down, there is nothing more to be done for them in this world. You should say, ‘I cannot treat this,’ and get the death-shroud ready to pull over them.
"Enough said, enough said! Now I shall leave you; Telpenaro is serving up the meal. Shall I bring you a plate? No? Very well, but before I go, I promise, from this point onward, to help you more with your duties. Together we shall see to the care of our companions, and, as we share knowledge of our craft, learn from one another, even in these most deplorable of circumstances we find ourselves.”
