The Infirmary

[Rayven]

The constant showers made for a dismal day and it was just as well that I planned to spend a good deal of it in the infirmary cataloging the herbs and potions as the Princess had asked me too.

Stopping by the kitchen, I helped my self to a few of the freshly baked scones, wrapping one of them in a clean linen handkerchief and placing it in my tunic pocket for later.

Even in this early morn, the Great Hall was filled with knights, many of them standing, some sitting, all of them with a tankard of mead or ale in their hands. My eyes scanned their faces, looking for that familiar one, but Milord Thanatos was no where to be found, so I quickly skirted pass the Hall and made my way down the same route I had taken before and soon arrived at the infirmary door.

My hand fished in my pocket for the key, finding it I slipped it into the lock and turned the key to the right, hearing the tumbler move producing a soft click and pushed the door opened.

The room was as I had left it the evening before.

Standing on my tip- toes I reached again for the heavy bounded book, my key to all that was here and opened the page to where I had left off.

I glanced up to the tiny window above my head; the dismal clouds had blocked the sun no light was filtering through. I set about lighting the candles and then turned to take a small tin off the shelf. Holding it up to the candle light as I read the name: Cress A The addition of the letter “A” indicating it was used as an all purpose herb, but wanting further information I referred to the book, seeing that it was often used as a remedy for coughs, eye disease, parasites, respiratory diseases, restlessness and scorpion stings.

Well, I thought, as I looked at the small tin, that certainly covers a lot of ailments.

Opening it carefully, I found the herb neatly packed inside. Placing the tin up upon the shelf I took down the next one and proceeded in this manner until my eyes and neck told me I needed a rest from the close work.

It was impossible to tell the time of day when I stopped to rest, for the relentless rain and dark clouds hid the sun, making it impossible for me track its path in the sky from the tiny window above.

Spying a bench that had been pushed under a small worktable, I grabbed hold of the edge of it and pulled out. Sighing with relief as I lowered myself onto the bench, my back aching from the constant twisting back and forth from shelf to book.

I hit upon an idea then, one that I had chastised myself for not thinking of earlier. Why not used the bench to stand upon and open the window? Since it was recessed deep with the wall, the chances of rain coming in were small. Besides, I thought as I reached in my pocket for the handkerchief wrapped scone, I just want to open it a bit, breath in some fresh air, then close it back.

Determined, I quickly finished the scone and pulled the bench over towards the window. Carefully I placed my foot upon the worn wood, using my arms for balance as I stood up.
Rising a bit on the tips of my toes, my reach still could not reach the device that would swing the window open.

Frustrated, I looked around for something else that would give me leverage to open that window, a broom handle perhaps. But none was to be found. Giving to my Irish nature, I was not ready to quit. Perhaps if I jump up a bit, maybe I can reach it, grab hold of the device and push it outward, thus opening the window.

The air had began to become cloying, my claustrophobia becoming apparently clear. Perhaps I should just open that infirmary door and be done with it. I glanced back wards; seeing all the pots and tins still needed to be catalogue and thinking I can’t quit this soon. Positioning my feet apart for better traction, my arms up high in the air as they rose up to grasp at the device, knees bent, I propelled myself upward, my hand hitting the device and swinging open the window.

I was only aware of the jubilation of my feat, the wind blowing on my hair, the taste of rain on my tongue as it hit my face. I never saw the darkness coming, the slipping of my foot from the bench as I came down.

[Rayven]

I don’t know how long I laid upon the slate floor, my first sense of consciousness of my surroundings came as I fluttered open my eyes and felt the dampness of water on my hands, face and hair. The right side of my temple felt like someone had imploded it with a dull object, it ached just to blink my eyes.

Slowly I slide my arms backwards, elbows bent and push my upper body up from the floor until I was in a sitting position, the small of my back resting against the wall.

The pads of my fingertips gently prodded along my temple and upper cheekbone, making me wince at the touch, no matter how gently I probed.

Slowly the fog in my mind cleared and I remembered me standing on the top of the old bench, now upside down a few feet in front of me.

Pressing my hand against the wall for support, as I drew my legs under me, kneeling first, then standing slowly up willing the room to stop spinning so that I could stand without holding on to the edge of the shelf.

After a few minutes, the room ‘stopped’ and I bent over slowly, the action making my temple pound like a hammer hitting a nail, and flipped over the bench. Slowly I sat my body down, my hand going back to my head, feeling a small lump rising through the tender skin.

I don’t know how long I sat there, seconds, minutes, longer perhaps, when I heard a voice calling out my name. Thinking I was hallucinating from all the trauma, I didn’t answer. But the voice was persistent calling out my name over and over as it echoed down the corridor. Finally, I answered, in a voice barely above a whisper for to speak too loudly made the side of my jaw ache.

I looked at the doorway, dark now as the sun had surely set and the candles had almost burned down to the end, and saw a familiar shape. A tall muscular form standing in the framework of the door. A familiar voice that called out to me:

“Milady? Are you here?"

Lifting my head, I called out that I was.

Dimly, through the waning candlelight I saw his face emerge in front of me concern in his eyes as he saw my face.

Quickly I explained what happened and tried to add a little humor to the situation as he helped in making a poultice that would help ease the swelling.

That done, I took the poultice and slipped into the pocket of my tunic for later when I was in bed, took the key from my pocket and secured the door to the infirmary and bid Lord Thanatos a good night, giving him a smile that said "Thank you" as he walked with me to the stairs.