Mehngen is lucky to be alive. Not only could Tavaar had struck him more than once, but the punch he took could easily have cracked his entire head. Fortunately, Mehngen's head was as thick as a bull and he lived. Tavaar reestablished herself as in control through some not-so-subtle insults and declarations. Outwardly, she remains collected, but this is simply a defense mechanism. Mehngen has tried to rape her, and there are emotional consequences which must be expressed. But Tavaar has put all of that off in order to bring Mehngen to a healer. And now we meet the second of the three most important people in Tavaar's life: Bolar. (We have already met Sashwa. The third person of importance will not show up in Tavaar's backstory until the sixth journal, I believe.)
Formatting: Text notes; Text narrative; Blog notes.
I'm leaving some of the numbered text notes in place. The actual notes will be at the end.
Their going was slow. Mehngen kept stumbling and moaning. Twice he fell, but Tavaar only waited at a distance for him to get back to his feet. Fortunately for him, the village healers, Fadew and Bolar, kept their house at this end. Injuries at the mine were fairly common. As they neared the house, Tavaar saw Bolar exit and walk to a small herb garden they kept. She called, and the old healer rushed to them, calling to the house as he came. Several of his great-grandchildren came running.12
“What happened?” Bolar asked, taking Mehngen’s face in his hands. Mehngen cried out and tried to pull away, but Bolar held him fast.
“I think his nose is broken,” said Tavaar.
Bolar nodded. He turned and tilted Mehngen’s head, much to Mehngen’s discomfort. Tavaar watched his eyes move from Mehngen’s nose to the mark on his cheek. Several times. He gave her a quick look.
Bolar was quite aged. He and Fadew were both past one hundred and twenty. He was a thin man with thick, white hair. Despite his advanced years, he was still alert, and he still had a good store of strength. He was dressed as he was always dressed: in a forest green woolen robe tied at the waist with a thick, leather belt, from which hung an assortment of healer’s pouches. He glanced again at Tavaar from under his bushy eyebrows.
“You do this?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” said Tavaar, holding her breath. Would he believe the deception?
“There will have to be a report, you know? Drawing blood from a mock weapon is a punishable offense. You could even go before the full Council.”
Tavaar let out a sigh. Bolar believed the injury came from her sword.14 No matter that she was likely to be punished. It wasn’t for Mehngen’s benefit she wanted this kept quiet. Part of her felt ashamed.
“No. It was an accident,” Mehngen whispered through his tears.
Bolar studied Mehngen’s face some more and released him to Jebiv and Vohbiv, brothers and sons of Bolar’s granddaughter, Fahbiv.15
“Wash him up. Have Fahbo do that. It will take some doing. Get Jeyvoh and Chedlar to help you hold him down while she washes his face. Tell Fahbo his nose is definitely broken. I will be in shortly.”
They left with Mehngen, Jebiv holding his left elbow and Vohbiv holding his right. Mehngen continued to moan the entire way to the house. Tavaar felt no pity. Mehngen had brought this on himself. Bolar now addressed her.
“So, how are you?” he asked.
“Me? I am fine.”
“Are you? Show me your hand.” She lifted her right hand, but Bolar gave her a grim smile and shook his head. “The other one,” he chided.17
She presented her left hand and he took it in both of his own. His fingers and thumbs floated over her skin, searching expertly for what he wouldn’t say. He didn’t have to. Tavaar’s heart quickened as she realized what this was about. Bolar knew.
Of course, she thought. She should have known better than to believe she could fool and old healer like Bolar. For one thing, she had hit Mehngen with her left fist, but left a sword mark on his left cheek. Hence, Bolar's examination of her left hand.
Bolar casually put pressure on various joints in Tavaar's hand. “I have been worried about Mehngen for some time. Let me know if any of this hurts – even just a little.”
“There may be a slight twinge at the wrist. It doesn’t hurt bad, though.”
Bolar concentrated on the wrist.
“Hmm. Yes, as I was saying, I have had concerns about Mehngen, ever since I came upon him – disobeying proper etiquette. He seems to have trouble following rules – at least, certain rules. I warned his mother and father, but they only grew angry and refused to believe me. In truth, I did not expect it to be Mehngen who would come to me hurt. I expected – other injuries. Hmm. Right here?”
Tavaar flinched as Bolar pressed his thumb down.
“Um, yes.”
Bolar’s hands followed a line from the spot of pain up to her elbow, continuing to examine and search. Tavaar did not resist.
“It always seems strange to me, because I am a healer, I guess, that warriors can use anything as a weapon. Even the body, or parts of the body, can be a weapon. Take hands, for instance. Useful things. They can be used to cure injury. They can also be used to cause injury. Other body parts can behave similarly, providing comfort, pleasure or pain, depending on how used. What has concerned me about Mehngen is his use of weapons. I fear his using weapons that are best left alone. But he wants to win, and that appears to be the driving force in his life. Mock battles are dangerous enough without ignoring the rules of engagement. Stabbing is forbidden. Yet I fear Mehngen is not above – stabbing. I suspect he would very much like to try it.” He paused and gave her a grim look. She forced herself to meet it. “Mehngen did not – stab you – did he, Tavaar?”
She felt herself blush. He had guessed everything.
“No, Sir. He did not.”
“You need not hide the fact, if he did, Tavaar. I am a healer. My concern is only to help you – if you need it. There would, of course, be no reason to inform anyone. And if you prefer, you could wait inside until Fadew returns. She will be back soon. She is just collecting some herbs we do not keep in the garden.”
Tavaar gave him a reassuring smile. “I am fine. He never – he didn’t hurt me.”
Bolar’s smile was reassuring. “That is good. I am more than glad to hear it. He tried, though, didn’t he?”
Tavaar didn’t answer. It was not a question she wanted to answer, even though Bolar clearly knew. Bolar did not insist on an answer. He knew. He just sighed and patted her hand.
“I do not believe there is any real injury here. Bathe your hand and wrist in warm water. As to reporting Mehngen’s injury, I guess I see no real reason for that. I see no wisdom in punishing the innocent.” He smiled at her expression. “I believe Mehngen claimed it was an accident.”
“What will you say if asked?”
“What I was told. Mehngen said his nose was broken by accident. I find no reason not to accept that.”
Tavaar gave him a knowing smile. “Thank you, Bolar.”
He touched her cheek. “I am just glad you are well.”
“Grandfather!”
They turned to see Fiahba, Jebiv and Vohbiv’s younger sister arriving with an armful of herbs.
Fiahba was the same age as Tavaar. Although not close, they knew each other well and were ever friendly. Fiahba was a bright young girl who might have been part of Tavaar’s small circle of friends except she was so fixated on her craft. She liked males, but did not allow herself to be distracted by them. She was probably the perfect mate for Khaiu. Even now, she hardly presented and alluring picture, despite the fact she was reasonably pretty. She was wearing a plain brown robe with cloak, and her hair was put up in a practical bun on top of her head.
“Grandmother told me to ask you where to put these,” said Fiahba. “Hello, Tavaar. What are you doing here? Are you well?”
Tavaar smiled. Fiahbawas trying to be polite, but the eagerness in her voice revealed her desire that Tavaar would say she was ill. Fiahba was still apprenticing, so she only tended minor things.
“Put those in the tub by the door,” said Bolar. “You will need to sort and wash them.”
“Very well, Grandfather. But what about Tavaar? Were you examining her hand? Should I bind it up or something?”
“No. Tavaar is fine.”
“Oh. But maybe I could examine her arm, too? You could show me what you did, Grandfather. I so want to learn. What happened, anyway?”
It was clear Fiahba was not just going to leave. Certainly, she had no desire to depart if there was anything of her craft in process. Bolar, however, had the perfect solution. Perfect – and a bit cruel.
“Fiahba. Mehngen has just been taken into the house with a broken nose. There is a lot of blood. Fahbo is washing him.”
“Oh!” said Fiahna, her eyes going wide.
“Perhaps you would care to watch?”
“Can I?”
“Yes,” said Bolar. Then, after a glance at Tavaar. “In fact, tell Fahbo I want you to actually help. She can show you how. Tell her I said I want you to learn this, and that this is the perfect case for you to practice on. If she doubts you, she can come see me. I will be in directly.”
“Oh, thank you, Grandfather! Thank you!” Fiahna said, backing away quickly and nearly dropping her herbs in her excitement. “Goodbye, Tavaar!”
Bolar smiled as he watched Fiahna run to the house and dump her armful of herbs into the tub before hurrying inside. Then he turned back to Tavaar.
“That should keep her busy,” he said.
“So, Fiahba’s doing major wounds now?”
“Actually, no. This will be her first time.”
Tavaar was shocked. “But Mehngen’s injury – it’s severe, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes. Quite nasty. But not life threatening.”
“But it’s so painful to him! Will Fiahba have a gentle touch?”
“She will learn a gentle touch,” said Bolar. Then, seeing Tavaar’s concern, he added, “No, I would not normally allow an apprentice to tend such a wound. So do not fear should you ever come needing similar care. However, it comes to me that this is probably the best case for an apprentice to practice on.”
“Mehngen may scream.”
“I am sure he will. But ultimately he should feel pleased at providing such a fine learning experience. Hopefully, he has learned some lessons himself. It would be most unfortunate if he should continue disobedient and unlawful behavior.”
“I do not expect him to repeat his error,” said Tavaar. Bolar gave her an ‘oh, really’ look and she grunted. She may as well tell him, she thought. “I explained the consequences of trying to – stab. I doubt he will risk that.”
“You mean another broken nose, or something more severe?”
“I expect he considers it more severe. I, for one, do not believe it would be much of a loss at all.”
“Are you suggesting he could be killed?”
“No. Just – damaged. His nose isn’t the only thing he thought to expose.”
“Ah, yes! I think I understand. It would be unfortunate for him should he actually lose part of his body, say, like a finger? Is that what you told him?”
“Yes, Sir. I also told him my concern over his unlawful behavior is not just for myself. I shall listen for rumor of repeated behavior.”
Bolar looked at her, thoughtfully. “You are a special young warrior, Tavaar. For Mehngen’s – and especially for others’ – sake I am glad it was you. I think the village is a little more secure now. However, I feel bad for you, even though you were not harmed. It is not something you should have had to endure. Now, I want you to do two things for me.”
“Whatever you ask,” she said, and she meant it.
Bolar reached into his cloak and took out a small flask, which he handed to her.
“Both of my requests are for your good. First, I want you to take a long drink.”
“A drink?” she asked, accepting the flask.
“Yes. That is Mozell. It is a good relaxer. I keep some with me at all times. Drink up. Drink as much as you can.”
She opened the flask and put it to her mouth, tilting her head to take as much as she could. She had tasted Mozell before, so its potency came as no surprise. When she finished, she replaced the cap and returned the flask to Bolar. He seemed pleased.
“Good. Very good,” he said, feeling the flask’s weight in his hand. “Now, I want you to go home and lay down. Do not visit, or train, or work or anything. Just take off your boots and weapons and lay on your bed. Hopefully, you will sleep. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, little one,” he said, patting her back. “I will come by tomorrow to check on you. Now, I have a patient to attend to. I believe I can hear him screaming. Fiahna must be nearly finished.”
NOTEWORTHY NOTES:
12 We now meet a character who will prove to be pivotal in Tavaar’s life. I suspected this from the first. However, I did not realize the extent of the role Bolar would play. That was a surprise.
14 Would Bolar be fooled? Not likely. He had been a healer too long to not see the difference between a sword injury – even a mock sword injury – and an injury caused by a fist.
15 I got all of Bolar's children's names wrong here. I didn't have access to the Archive Database when I wrote this and so made up names.
17 Here we see Bolar not only determined Mehngen had been struck by a fist, but he also knew which fist. The ensuing conversation told me that Bolar and Tavaar were not just becoming friends now. Theirs was a longstanding relationship. I expect that is why the conversation went as it did, and why Tavaar would later come to Bolar seeking help for a difficult problem, and why she would rush to help him in his time of need.
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