Far Sighted Ch 1: Healer's Hands

Chapter 1

Healer’s Hands



         I let the wind from the valley comb through my short, auburn hair, the questions returning as they always did.  Who was I?  Born, then abandoned on the steps of a monastery left me with no identity.  Even the monks didn’t know who my parents were, or wouldn’t tell me.  I had a feeling Father Michael knew more to the story of abandonment than he told me.  He got that distant look in his eyes, haunted almost, like remembering something best forgotten.

         Sighing, depressed that I had once more failed to attain the answers I craved, I turned back for the monastery.  The walk improved my mood as I passed fields of wildflowers dancing in the breeze.  There was no place more peaceful than this small, secluded valley.

         “Adanna!”

I recognized the voice instantly and looked around for its owner.  Sir Alden was atop Clover, a grey dapple war horse, cantering in this direction.  He rode as a man still in his twenties, though he was well beyond fifty, his flowing white hair and beard a testament to his age. 

“Get on!”  He reached out a strong but weathered hand, not bothering to slow down; it must be serious.

         I grabbed onto his arm as he passed and swung myself up behind, thankful he was strong enough to lift my petite form.  I held on to his waist, leaning my head against his back, amazed at how vast and muscled it still was. 

“What is it Alden?  Another regiment?”  The kingdom was at war and there was a constant flow of dead and injured warriors and civilians.  Ours being a more secluded monastery, we had considerably less traffic moving through, but on occasion other monasteries would send injured to us when theirs were too full to accommodate.

         “Knights, about twenty.  Five critical, and the rest only minor.  If only Father Michael was back.  Those knights need his expertise.” 

Father Michael, the aging abbot of our little monastery, had been a physician in his younger years before joining the church.  As the wars worsened he had made it a priority to teach the other monks and some of the older orphans what he knew of medicine, but still no one was as skilled as Father Michael.  He often went out to other monasteries to share his talents, as he was now.

         “We’ll have to make due without him and just pray he returns to us soon.” 

         Sir Alden gave Clover his head and the old charger responded with a burst of speed. 

“It’s a good thing this old boy doesn’t know how old he really is.”  Clover was Sir Alden’s horse and had come with him from the battle field.  Though that had been seven years ago, Clover still had the vigor and aggression of a young war horse.  No horse was more reliable or more stubborn and willful than Clover, but it was this stubbornness that now carried us home.

         I knew the monastery hid right around the bend in the road, nestled between two vast, snow-capped mountains.  It had originally been constructed as a fortress to guard the pass, but fell into disrepair after having been deserted during a hard winter.  Father Michael had done what repairs he could and with the help of other local monasteries organized an order of monks to reside there.

         Thinking of the injured knights, adrenaline began to flow before we entered the gates.  Sir Alden brought Clover to a stop just inside the walls; I leaped off and hit the ground running.  The main hall doors were open revealing the knights spread out on the floor, some with arrow or sword wounds, others with broken bones, and the critical lay on feathered mattresses on the far side of the hall.

         “Adanna, we need your help over here!” 

I turned in the direction of the voice, quickly weaving my way through the hall.  Five knights lay in the corner, deathly pale. One, worse than the others, caught my attention.  A pile of bloodied bandages lay at the head of the bed as if signaling imminent death.  The monks had already removed his weapons, armor, and shirt and one was holding a now bloodied bandage over a wound on his chest, another removing an arrow from his right leg.  The knight was so far gone he didn’t move when the arrow was wrenched out of his flesh. 

         I immediately took over, handing out orders and directing the young orphans to retrieve this or that medicine.  Father Michael had carefully instructed me in the ways of medicine after he learned of my healer’s hands, or at least that’s what he had called them.  I often took charge of the healings under the direction of Father Michael and I was grateful for the care he took in teaching me. 

         Everything moved smoothly as I followed the proper steps.  After working hours on the same knight, I concluded there was little else I could do.  I asked the monks to see he was put in a room and monitored closely.  I tried to put him out of my mind and move on to the others. 

         Not a life was lost and by sundown everyone sat down to the evening meal, exhausted but happy.  I picked at my food, wondering how the knight was holding up.  He was the only one left in critical condition; all the others would make it as long as infection didn’t set in.  I found it odd that I couldn’t even recall what he looked like though I had worked on him for hours.  Every wound I treated was a clear image in my mind, but his face refused to appear. 

         I felt a nudge at my elbow and looked over to see Sir Alden smiling.  “Go check on your knight.  Lord knows you won’t be worth beans if you don’t check him for yourself.”

         Excusing myself I made my way upstairs to the room the knight had been assigned.  I groaned inwardly as I saw Father Thomas and his enormous hooked beak approaching from the opposite direction.  I never understood why he chose to become a monk; he was a miserable old twig and cynical beyond belief. 

“Ah, Adanna it’s you.  I figured you would come to see your patient.  Father Michael has sent a message that he will be detained for another month.”  The groan turned into a hiss of displeasure.  In Father Michael’s absence Father Thomas directed the important matters of the monastery and took full advantage of his temporary authority. 

         “Thank you for telling me.  I’ll be sure to pass the word along.”  I reached for the door handle but stopped when he felt it necessary to interrupt my escape.

         “Why must you insist on wearing men’s clothing?  I thought I instructed you to dress appropriately.”

         “I didn’t think you’d want me to bloody one of my precious few dresses while tending the wounded.  I’m sorry if I was mistaken.”

         Eyes wide with pompous indignation, Father Thomas stuttered before he managed to regain control of his tongue. 

“Insolent child.  I should have you removed from the monastery.  If not for Father Michael’s obvious attachment you’d have been married off two years ago like all the other orphan girls who come through here.  Why he likes you so much I have no idea.  You can hardly be called a woman, if that‘s what you really are.”  He looked me up and down, scrutinizing closely as if truly doubtful of my gender.  I didn’t let his wandering eyes anger me. 

“If you have a question about my being a woman feel free to take it up with Father Michael when he returns.  As for why he likes me, I like to think it’s because I’m charming.”  I gave him an overly sweet smile and turned to the door, purposefully ignoring his snort of derision as he stomped down the hallway.

         Opening the door, a young monk stood as I stepped inside.  “He’s got a fever, but he’s been showing signs of improvement.  He hasn’t drunk anything yet, nor has he wakened.”

         “Thank you.  I’ll watch him for a while, you can go rest.”

         His eyes went wide, shocked I would suggest such a thing.  “B…But you’re a woman…and…and he‘s…”

         He was obviously very new to the order.  “Yes I am a woman and he is an unconscious knight.  What could he possibly do to me?”

         It didn’t take the young monk long to see reason. 

“Very well, thank you.”  He brushed past me on his way out, apologizing before closing the door behind him.

         I turned to the bed trying to remember the face that was lying on the pillow.  Dark brown, almost black hair, was untidily pulled back into a warrior’s tail.  His face and arms had darkened with time in the sun, contrasting with his bare white chest, not well hidden behind what little chest hair he could claim.  Making myself look up to his face again I noticed a slight upward tilt of his eyes, an odd feature in this area.  These were only accentuated by strong cheekbones, bespeaking foreign blood flowing through his veins. 

         I pulled up the only chair in the room next to the bed and laid the back of my hand against his forehead.  His fever was raging worse than I’d thought.  Wetting a cloth, I swept his sweat dampened hair from his forehead and gently set the cool cloth in its place.  A sigh escaped his lips, whether from exhaustion, relief, or some fever induced dream I didn’t know. 

         Hours passed without a stirring from the knight and I began to wonder what his story was.  How had he come to be here?  Why had he become a knight?  From Sir Alden’s stories I had learned not all knights were kind and chivalrous.  In fact most were the complete opposite, crude, dirty and ruthless.  Most became knights for fame and glory, pillaging, plundering and raping where they pleased, all in the name of a church they claimed yet whose principles they refused to follow.  Was this knight one of those men, or was he like Sir Alden? 

         Sir Alden had joined the knighthood for the church, for his king, and for his family.  He had lost his wife and son to the war early on and spent many lonely years as a knight, fighting battle after battle for his king and surviving them all.  Then, seven years ago, he had been shot in the leg with an arrow.  Clover had wandered with his master strapped to his back, slowly bleeding to death, until Father Michael had found them in the valley and brought them back to the monastery.

         I’d been ten and remembered that day like it was yesterday.  There had been a commotion out in the courtyard and I ran to my window to see what had happened.  An armored man was carried into the hall leaving behind a trail of blood.  I’d had nightmares for a week.  Then, when the knight had somewhat recovered, Father Michael brought me down to help care for him. 

         Sir Alden became like the grandfather I’d never known.  He’d tell me bedtime stories of his adventures as a knight, he’d teach me lessons I could never have learned from the monks, and he gave me a glimpse of what it must have been like to be part of a family. 

         “No….Charles…”  I glanced over to find the knight tossing beneath the blankets, delirious from the fever.  Who was Charles?  A comrade perhaps?  “Charles…”  Even through his delirium I could hear the pain behind his ramblings.  “The…the far…no…Charles…sighted…far…” 

         The thrashing increased and I began to fear he would injure himself further.  I stood over the bed and tried to hold him down.  “I need some help in here!”  He was strong, though he had been near death a few hours ago and it was difficult to keep him down.

         One strong movement dislodged my hold on his shoulders and sent me sprawling across his chest.  I winced as the breath came whooshing out of his lungs.  Eyebrows knit together in pain, he groaned.  Before I could get off and remove the weight from his wounds I felt his arm come around my waist, holding me in place.  I didn’t struggle knowing it would only cause him more pain. 

         A pressure around my neck froze any movement I would have used to free myself from his grip and sent my heart racing.  I looked down to see coal black eyes, endless as the night sky, glaring up at me. 

“Where am I?”

         “Y…You’re safe.  We’ve treated your wounds and given you a place to rest and recover.”  I felt his hand around my neck loosen its hold, then drop to the bed.

         “Who’s we?”  He tried to hide the fact that he was in pain, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.

         “The monks and I.  You’re in a monastery.”  I pushed myself up trying to lessen the weight on his wounds and I felt the arm that held me hesitate for a moment before lightening it’s grip. 

         The door opened before his hand had a chance to leave my waist, and none other than Father Thomas walked in.  The hiss of surprise, anger, and embarrassment sent me stumbling to my feet.  For the first time since I was a child I felt the flush of embarrassment heat my face. 

“Out,” he commanded, red suffusing his neck and cheeks.  “I’ll deal with you in a moment.”

         “The boy did nothing wrong.”

         I froze mid-stride.  Boy?  I turned only to find Father Thomas glaring and pointing his finger in the direction of the door.  Silently obeying his order, I left the room.  Pulling the door shut, I sat down against the wall to await Father Thomas’s inevitable verbal assault.

         “…only doing his job.  I am a man of God, Father, just like you.”  Their voices penetrated the walls, carrying the conversation to my ears. 

         “A man of God I am, but you most certainly are not.  What god would send men out to slaughter, plunder, and rape the innocent?”  His voice carried an air of superiority.

         “I do not blame you for assuming the worst of me, but I promise I am not such a knight.  I serve only my king and God.”

         “Ha!  A fraud.  The true king has been in his grave seventeen years, his throne stolen by a ruthless pagan.  Either you serve a barbarian king or a dead one.”

         “The king may be dead, but his legacy and people live on.  As long as this is true, I will continue to serve.”  Father Thomas must not have known what to say to this, the silence was deafening. 

I jumped to my feat and crossed the hallway when I heard footsteps approaching the door.  Father Thomas emerged from the room in a huff. 

“You come with me.”

         I was led to a near empty storage closet, Father Thomas holding the door open for me to enter.  He followed me in and closed the door behind, ensuring our privacy.  I backed up against the shelves of pickled beets, preparing myself for the onslaught.

         “What in heaven’s name do you think you were doing?”  He made sure to keep his voice at a low hiss.  “This is a house of God.”

         I felt my jaw drop.  Did he really think I would do something like that? 

“Father Thomas,” I didn’t bother to keep my voice down.  “Nothing happened.  He woke up disoriented…”

         “That doesn’t explain how you two ended up lying together in the same bed.”

         “He was just taken from the battle field, he was still jumpy.  When he saw me he must have thought I was a threat.  He grabbed me and then you walked in assuming the worst.  He thought I was a boy for goodness sake; you heard him.”

         “You’re banned from his room.  You will stay away from all of the knights until they leave.  I will be having a word with Father Michael about this when he returns.  It’s past time you were married off…”  Father Thomas paused as if struck with sudden inspiration.  Shaking his head, coming back to reality he turned back to me.  “You may go, but remember what I’ve said.”

         I left with a feeling of dread weighing on my heart.  Father Thomas was up to something and it didn’t bode well for me, I was sure.

         Sir Alden approached me in the courtyard early the next morning.  “I hear your knight is healing up quite fast.”

         “He’s much stronger than he should be with so many wounds.  He almost dies then a few hours later he almost breaks my neck.  I’ve never seen anyone heal so quickly.  He was still in a lot of pain, but conscious and alert.”  It was a puzzle my mind couldn’t piece together.

         Sensing my dilemma, Sir Alden ruffled my hair.  “Maybe you should take Clover out.  He’s been penned up the whole night and you know he gets antsy when he misses his morning run.  He’s even worse than usual with all the knight’s stallions penned up next to him.  He needs to do something with that pent up energy, and it’ll help you think; it always helped me.”

         “Maybe you’re right.”  I leaned down and pecked Sir Alden on the cheek.  “Thank you.  You always know what to say.” 

         The stable was a modest but strong stone structure built just to the side of the gate.  Upon entering, a crash sounded from one of the stalls.  Two middle aged monks came running out, fear foremost in their eyes.  They had to be new working in the stables if they didn’t know to leave Clover to Sir Alden or me. 

“Hey, didn’t Father John warn you about Clover?”

         The younger of the two stopped, turning back.  “We know to stay away from Clover, but nobody warned us about Ares.” 

         Ares?  The monk forgotten, I entered the stable to investigate this Ares.  It wasn’t difficult to pinpoint his stall; it was the one being smashed to bits.  Thankfully the stalls on either side had been emptied of their occupants.  I entered from the left stall and opened the connecting window.  The wooden boards went flying and I ducked as they flew against the far wall.  A gaping hole was left where the wall had stood only moments before and through the absent wall I saw polished black hooves and a flaming red coat.

         “Hey there boy,” I crooned.  He responded by completely knocking away the stall door.  “Oh no you don’t.”  Dodging the splintered wood blocking the opening of the stall, I grabbed on to Ares’ mane as he made his escape and flung myself onto his back. 

“Get out of the way!”  I didn’t know if anyone was close or not, but I wasn’t about to take a chance. 

“Open the gate!”  I knew he’d run for freedom, eliminating any threat to the monastery and the people within.

         Someone, I don’t know who, complied, flinging the gate wide.  Ares galloped for the opening, bucking and tossing his head, trying to dislodge me.  I wasn’t in a position to do anything but cling to his neck and attempt to calm him.  Whispering soft and encouraging words in his ear, I waited for him to tire.  It ended sooner than I had anticipated.  Ares slowing to a walk and then came to a stop.  I maintained my grip, ready for another fit, but it never came.  Craning his neck back, Ares looked me straight in the eye.  There was no animosity or rage in his gaze, only a calm acceptance. 

         “You finally ready to go back?”  An answering snort almost made me think he could understand me.  “You’re just like Clover, nothing but a big baby.  You throw a tantrum when you don’t get what you want and then pretend nothing happened when the tantrum doesn‘t work.” 

         Ares hadn’t strayed too far from the monastery and we were soon back at the gates.  The monks had all gathered at the stable to view the damage.  A voice rose above the din.  “Let me go, I need to see my horse.”  A shrill whistle pierced the air, a call for Ares to return.

         Responding to his master‘s summons, Ares trotted into the crowd which immediately parted, not wanting to become a victim of the wild horse.  There was no mistaking the voice of his master and I was about ready to leap off the horse and haul the knight back to his bed.  What did he think he was doing out of bed after only a day of recovery?  He’d kill himself.

         The widening path revealed two monks supporting the knight five yards in front of Ares.  From the look in their eyes, they were probably considering making a break for it and leaving the knight to fend off the horse himself. 

         “Sir William, please, you must return to your room,” one of them pleaded, obviously more worried about his own safety.

         Sir William paused at the sight of me atop his charger. 

“Ares, come.”  Sir William held out a hand, beckoning.  Ares happily complied, walking up and nuzzling his master’s hand.  I took the opportunity to dismount. 

“I’ve told you a thousand times to stay out of trouble.”  If I hadn’t seen Clover look guilty when Sir Alden chastised him, I wouldn’t have believed it possible.  Ares lowered his head and peaked up at Sir William through his mane. 

“Get back to your stall.  Go on, get.”  Ares turned around, sulking and dragging his feet like a child.

         “Sir William?” the monks inquired, waiting to take him back to the room.  Our eyes met for an instant and I thought I saw admiration in the depths of his stare; or perhaps I had only imagined it.  He nodded and allowed the monks to steer him back towards the main building, the crowd disappearing with him.

         “That was one exciting spectacle.”  Sir Alden squeezed my shoulders in greeting.  “Just don’t do that again.”

         I laughed at his exaggerated worry.  “Ares is no different than Clover if you hadn’t noticed.”

         “I had noticed.  But Clover didn’t try to throw you.  He was wrapped around that little finger of yours the moment I set you on his back.  You have a way with charming the untamable and it scares me to death.”

         “If it scares you to death and you knew how dangerous Clover was, why’d you let me ride him in the first place?”  I raised an eyebrow, awaiting his explanation.

         “Because Clover showed a liking for you long before that.  Where he’d bite anyone who tried to feed him, he’d take an apple from your hand, gentle as a kitten.  Where he’d kick anyone who’d walk behind him, he’d just watch you with puppy-dog eyes.  He was always gentle with you so I figured it was safe enough to let you ride, as long as I rode along with you.”

         “So basically Clover was safe but Ares isn’t.”

         “Exactly.  There’s no doubt that you can charm anything or anyone that crosses your path, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get hurt, or worse.”  Something in his tone of voice made me think he wasn’t talking about Ares. 

Clearing his throat he chuckled lightly.  “Don’t pay me any mind, I’m just a rambling old man.”

         “You’re much more than that,” I assured him.  “Thank you for always caring.”

         “Now I think you should go chew out your knight for almost killing himself.”

         “I would, but Father Thomas has forbidden me from seeing him, or any of the knights.”

         Sir Alden raised an eyebrow.  “Forbidden you?  What reason could he possibly have to do that?”

         “I’m a young woman, and apparently a temptation.  Isn’t that reason enough?”  I stood, ready to leave when Sir Alden stopped me with a look.  “What?”

         “Are you a temptation to him?”  There was a twinkle in his eye, but something more serious behind it.

         “Why would you care?”

         “That doesn’t answer my question.”  He’d picked up on my evasiveness.

         “Somehow I doubt it.  He thought I was a boy.”  I could still feel a sense of resentment toward Sir William for his mistake.  Did I really look that much like a boy? 

         Sir Alden laughed heartily at this news.  “Serves you right for wearing men’s clothing.”

         “As I recall, Sir Alden, you were the one who encouraged me to wear them.  I remember you saying something to the effect that they were more comfortable to ride in.”

         “Yes, but I didn’t intend you to wear them every waking moment.  A lady should dress like a lady.”

         “I am no lady; I’m an orphan.  And besides, I ride every day and it’s inconvenient to change.”

         Sir Alden chuckled lightly.  “You always were practical.” 

The look never left his eyes and I wondered what it was he was thinking.  He didn’t give me the chance to ask.  “Something makes me think he knows.”

         “Knows?”

         “Knows you’re a woman,” he clarified.  “Something in the way he looked at you just now.  That wasn’t a man looking at a boy.”

         Brushing off his overactive imagination, I started walking to the stables, then turned.  “That was a man surprised a boy could tame his horse.”

         “Well aren’t you going to correct his misconstrued assumptions?” Sir Alden called after me.

         I’d entered the stables and leaned out the door to answer.  “I thought you said he already knew.”  Smiling as he threw a playful glare in my direction, I ducked back into the stables to spend the rest of the day out riding with Clover.

Next Chapter:

Far Sighted Ch 2: Unwilling Engagements  (13+) "Let's see how the sapling holds up against the storm." #1559649 by Far Sighted