From the Mountain
The days pass this way…I hand Entho bottles, bandages, scissors. He teaches me names of herbs and medicines, their uses and functions. I have read a bit about them in Volume 1, but seeing Entho use them is exciting, real. If we aren’t too busy, I can ask him questions.
“What is that called?” I ask as he reaches for a large jar with a light brown powder in it.
“Yarrow,” he answers patiently. It is used for healing wounds and cuts.
“Where do you get it?” I question as he gently dabs at a cut on a little boy’s arm.
He never takes his eyes off the small boy’s wound. “I buy it from an herbs dealer. But it is found in the forest – it is the root of a flower.”
“Do you have a book I can read about herbs and medicines?” I ask Entho after everyone has left and we are cleaning up the clinic. I am sterilizing a large pile of bloody, contaminated bandages. Blood once bothered me, but after these days in the clinic, it doesn’t even faze me anymore.
He ambles over to a bookshelf, surveys the books as if they were prizes, reaches for a thick volume, and hands it to me, obviously pleased.
I wipe my hands on a clean towel and greedily snatch the book from his hands, then tear out of the clinic, a thrill surging through me. “Thanks,” I call back as I race up the stairs, kick open the door to my room, and plop onto my bed.
I study the cover. A Healer’s Guide to Herbs and Potions. The book is decorated in the same fancy, gold writing as the other Volumes I have already read. But it also has pictures of flowers and bottles and roots…all hand drawn. I open it to the first page.
Nausea and vomiting. Yuck! There is a picture of a brown root. Ginger root. And peppermint. I am familiar with that. Entho has brewed peppermint tea for me most of my life. Chamomile, a daisy like flower. And catnip. Catnip? It is an ugly brown herb that helps with not only nausea and vomiting but infection by increasing perspiration to release toxins from the body, and to help with fevers.
Each night I fall into bed, totally engrossed in the book until I fall asleep in my downy bed, not even bothering to change out of my healer’s robe. I wake each morning, opening my eyes, my pink bedroom curtains greeting me, as I breathe out a mixture of relief and thanks. I am not at Soldier Academy. It is all I need.
I wash up, put on a fresh robe, make breakfast, usually just toast and tea, and rush into the clinic, falling into a speechless rhythm with Entho and the patients, like a song that is really a dance. When we are done in the clinic for the day I race into the kitchen, prepare a quick meal for us and then run upstairs to my room for more reading of Entho’s healing books. My mind seems to be craving knowledge, and just like dragon anatomy, I am soaking the information up, reveling in it.
Over three weeks pass and I have given up on Dragon Academy. I should have received the letter by now, revealing my scores. I am disappointed, but I have put it out of my mind. I wish I could get Winter out of my mind, though. And Thann and Koree…they has pervaded my thoughts more than I thought possible. I catch myself daydreaming about them, especially Thann, then immediately shove the thoughts out of my mind. Thann would not be interested in me, that is for sure.
It is a Friday and the clinic is slower than usual. Several children are brought in by Guardians in orange. Some of the Guardians seem kind. Some are horrible, like Winter’s. After they leave, I ask Entho about all of the orphans – I didn’t realize there were so many of them. So many Winters.
He sighs, looking up from a compound he is mixing. “Oh, Teak. They just aren’t as lucky as you. The wars….so many were killed, especially in the Final War.” He exhales again, his chest heaving, his voice raw with rare emotion. “There are so many orphans, almost a hundred here. The Alliance is….feeding them….and giving them shelter. It’s all we can ask right now.”
“Where do they keep them,” I ask. “Where do they live?”
“Near Chrissy Park. In the old warehouses.”
“I want to help them,” I whisper. “I want to help Winter.”
“I know.” He reaches out and pats my hand, turns back to mixing herbs and medicine. “I do what I can…I send money to them every month, don’t take payment unless it’s offered…but I know it’s not enough.
“Why…why can’t we do more?” It doesn’t make sense to me.
Entho looks around, as if to see if anyone is near, listening. He turns to me, whispering, “They are training them for the New Alliance. These poor children are their next band of soldiers. They’re getting them young…and cheap.”
“Soldiers?” I ask, shocked.
Entho nods his head, and I think of little Winter…training to be a soldier. Just like me…whether she wants to or not…only she doesn’t have a home to go to on the weekends. A mother or father to love her. I vow to help her someday…somehow.
A tear falls down my cheek and lands on the stone floor as my chest pulls into a tight ball, a fist that clenches my heart like a vise, and I am not sure if all the pain I feel is for Winter…or if some of it is for myself.
Chapter 15