'The roots are good if they be broken and drunken for them that spit blodd and are bursten.'
Blodd? Bursten? Who wrote this book?
'Take up several handfulls of fresh leaves, beaten into an emerald green paste until oozed.'
Parnard pounded comfrey and mullein leaves in the granite pestle and read the next lines of faded script.
He carefully measured out eight parts of vinegar and stirred in three drams of honey. To this mixture he added the roots, pulped leaves, a few drops of oak bark concentrate and some hydrangea oil. Then he took up the pot and set it over a tripod to boil down.
Despite the lack of illness from contagion or infection, elves did get wounded and sick and often needed help. As with most things, the Wood-elves were forced to struggle and make do with what they had on hand. Gathering herbs and roots was a chancy business in the Greenwood; the remedies they devised and passed down to subsequent (although ever fewer) generations stand as a testament to the persistence and ingenuity of a much diminished people. Some of the earlier remedies were useless, but some actually worked; and some of them were not advised for general use, but only for extreme cases, such as the bite of the small green wood-adder, the most deadly snake in the Greenwood. There was also the dreaded black viper, longer and thinner than the wood-adder, that would lay along a tree limb, waiting to drop down on an unsuspecting victim’s head, but its poison was not as dire as the giant spiders’. Although most creatures were not poisonous in the Greenwood, they could be just as deadly by biting a chunk out of a leg or an arm.
Parnard knew many simple remedies for cuts, bruises and scrapes, but now he was using a portion of his recently-acquired knowledge, gained from Elvealin's book, to brew strong Wood-elf medicine for the wounded Estarfin.
He was taught the basics of healing by his mother, usually after he had experienced some mishap in the Greenwood, as he was taken to wandering off to places in the wood that were wisely avoided by the other elves. She knew the rudiments of healing medicine such as eating raw honey after a hard winter. While Parnard never understood the virtue of this prescription, he did not mind this remedy so much as some others she had foisted on him.
Oftentimes, she would make a poultice by roasting wild onions, then wrapping them in a cloth and beating it on a stone so that the juice soaked the rags. It smelled very bad, but it was good for getting rid of chiggers.
Render the fat of a giant hedgehog and mix with pounded willow bark. Rub on burns. A deceivingly simple remedy, but Parnard learned long ago that the giant hedgehog is not easily persuaded to part with its skin.
He knew to boil pine needles to make a strong tonic that purifies and strengthens the blood. Cudweed is good for squirreliness, recalled Parnard, having seen several of the black squirrels of the wood eat this bog-herb, and afterwards lie twitching at the base of their trees, sluggish and sleepy. I would not call it a squirrel-condition, but I do not see why it would not help Lord Estarfin's restiveness! It took some searching, but he had found some cudweed at last, growing in a low ditch on the north-side of the Valley. Parnard cut up the stems and roots of the thorny plant, and tipped them into the bubbling liquid.
A rank acrid steam poured up from the copper vessel, filling the room with a pungent greasy cloud. He hummed cheerily and stirred in a little violet syrup to disguise the taste. Violet syrup was also good for grouchiness - an added bonus! He liked that; it suited his own practicality. He gave the mixture one final twirl with his spoon and let it simmer.
Several hours later, a viscous orangey-red residue clung to the back of his stirring-spoon. It seemed a bit thick. Parnard sampled a taste. Not bad! He jotted a note to himself that it was 'Something better than the last, less sticky and gummy, with less tendency to coat the teeth and glue them together.'
He poured the syrup from the pot into several small bottles, being careful not to splash the hot liquid on the floor, and sealed them with beeswax. When cooled, he would hand deliver the medicine to Laurelindo. The healer was mighty disgusted that Lord Tindir saw fit to post an armed guard by the door of Estarfin’s chamber, but if he could convince Laurelindo to administer this medicine at intervals, a guard would be unnecessary, and he might spare Estarfin this latest ignominy! Such a one could not remain idle for long. Swiftly running streams should not end in a stagnating pool, after all.
Lord Veryacano certainly had his hands full. Yesterday, none of his Hammers had mustered at his command. It seemed to Parnard that their duty was not a very congenial one, and it was sure to become less congenial, if he was any judge of the matter. For the first time since he came to the Valley, he was glad that his sword-arm was too weak to join their ranks.
