The Writers' Circle

At first, Tiaa was aware only that she had been asleep a long time. There was a brief moment in which she luxuriated in that wonderful floating fuzzy feeling between sleeping and waking when she was aware of everything and nothing at the same time. Sounds slowly intruded upon her sleep and she could hear the lazy buzzing of flies with a startling clarity and, strangely, was unable to comprehend a word of the mumble of many voices nearby. The fact that she didn't know who those voices belonged to didn't bother her. The peacefulness of sleep lulled her, drifting her slowly away farther and farther from the sounds until they seemed to be coming from a long way down a tunnel. She couldn't recall if she had ever had such a wonderful, peaceful sleep before in her life. 
	And then the hurt came. It slammed into her with such violence that Tiaa's first thought was that her soul had been ripped from her body and that she was being punished by the gods for her disobedience to her mother. 
	She was lying down, she knew that much, but it felt like she was being pinned on the bed by hot brands pressing down on her face and chest from above. Every breath felt like she was sucking air though a small reed, never able to get enough. It hurt to breathe but it hurt more not to. Tiaa struggled to open her eyes but couldn't. Something was wrapped around her head.
	I am dead, she thought through a haze of pain. I have already been embalmed. The priests of Anubis have already done their work. Hot bile rose in her throat as she fought wave after wave of panic until it was finally too much for her to bear.
	Fiery agony seared through her as she thrashed with her arms and legs and clawed at the wrappings covering her eyes. She heard a man's voice shout and felt her arms and legs being held down by rough hands. The priests are going to finish their work. But I'm not dead! Alive! I'm alive!	
	Tiaa let out a long, bloodcurdling animal scream that echoed off the walls of the room she was in. She felt the shock of the sound startle the hands that held her and they loosened their grip momentarily. It was just enough so that Tiaa was able to get her right arm free and strike upward.
	"I'm alive!" she shrieked as she felt her closed fist contact flesh. Something crunched under her palm and she heard another male voice cursing. She thought it strange that a priest of Anubis would curse like a common shipman.
	"I have a good mind to let you die, she-cat! You just broke the nose of my best assistant. Now, if you don't mind, stop this struggling at once!" The man's deep voice was authoritive, but didn't sound unreasonable. 
	"You have had an injury to your face and your eyes are bandaged," the voice continued in a more reassuring tone. The voice had a rich, resonant quality that reminded Tiaa of someone who laughed more often than he didn't. "Now, just lie still for a moment while I tend to Dimitri here and try to leave my handiwork in place. I can't heal the both of you at the same time."
	Tiaa stopped struggling and she felt the hands around her wrists relax. After it was certain that Tiaa would no longer lash out, the hands let go.

***


	Heredotus watched his young patient for a moment to be sure that she would do no further harm to herself before turning his attention to Dimitri. The youth had retreated to a low, wooden bench at one end of the mud-brick room that was used to treat the many patients that came to see Heredotus. The room wasn't fancy, but it was cool and clean with many neat rows of herbs and medicines lined up on shelves along one wall. Rows of linen strips that served as bandages were set in a basket near the bench. Heredotus took one and handed it wordlessly to Dimitri who was sitting down and leaning slightly forward with his large hand obscuring most of his face as he pinched his nose. An alarming amount of blood was running down Dimitri's forearm and dripping onto the front of his well-worn ivory robes soaking the blue banding around the sleeves and turning it purple in places. 
	"Well, student, what is your diagnosis?" Heredotus's voice was clinically detached. It was the kind of voice that he reserved for when he was teaching Dimitri a lesson on the art of healing. Dimitri had been a motivated and gifted student and Heredotus had confidence that he would be able to assess his injuries on his own.
	Dimitri accepted the bandages with a grateful look at his mentor. He placed the wad of linen under his nose to catch the blood. If he had been able to breathe through his nose, he would have smelled the eucalyptus that Heredotus used on all his bandages to prevent putrescence of wounds. Dimitri reached for a polished brass mirror on the low ebony table to his left and inspected his face. He palpated the bone on the bridge of his nose gently and, although wincing with pain, appeared satisfied that it was intact. He looked up at Heredotus and said, his voice muffled by the linen, "Nod boken, juss beeding."
	"I am pleased to hear that, Dimitri." Heredotus smiled as he filled a basin of cool water from an earthen jug. It was a valuable skill for a healer to learn to treat himself as physicians were scarce and he would be unable to rely on qualified help from someone else. He needed to know that Dimitri could go on without him. Heredotus was of middle age and knew too well from the increasing aches and pains that he had been experiencing in his gut lately, that life was short and time precious. 
	He dipped a cloth into the basin, wrung it out, and handed it to Dimitri who began carefully cleaning the blood off himself.
	Heredotus added some hot water to the basin from the pot that he kept constantly bubbling over the hearth in the cramped front courtyard. The water was used frequently for making herbal teas and for use in cleaning wounds. Heredotus had noticed that wounds cleaned with the water that had boiled did not putrefy as often and had adopted the habit of cleaning all wounds with the boiled water. He ladled in the hot water so that the water in the basin was warm, but not too hot for use on tender skin. 
	Heredotus then took another cloth from the basket and placed it into the basin. The dampened sound of glass clinking together was as comforting to him as a prayer. This was his element. As Heredotus chose some dried lavender from one of the bottles and crumbled it gently into the water, his movements settled into the familiar rhythm of the art of healing. After breathing in the heady aroma he produced as he stirred the water with a short, flat olive wood spoon, he took some rosemary and crumbled it into the water as well. 
	Heredotus brought the basin and placed it on top of the small stool placed beside the low table that served as Tiaa's bed. He took out the cloth and wrung it out carefully. 
	"I must wash your face now," he said softly. "I need to remove your bandages. This may be uncomfortable for a bit, but you need to stay still while it is completed. You may open your eyes only after I am done. Do you understand this?"
	"Yes."
	"Good. Before I begin, I will give you something to help your pain." Heredotus gently took a cup of liquid that had been cooling by her bedside and, lifting Tiaa's head gently, placed it at her lips.
	Tiaa let out a low moan of pain as she lifted her head, but she managed to drink a small sip. The liquid was warm and bitter, and tasted vaguely of strongwine mixed with a special blend of Heredotus's most potent herbs that were only known to the most trusted healers and could not be identified by taste, although many had tried in an effort to duplicate his effective recipe. 
	Heredotus supported Tiaa's back with his hands as she coughed reflexively. He said a silent prayer for the easement of her pain as the coughing subsided. With her injuries, he had no doubt that every movement was agony to her. Heredotus briefly considered abandoning the medicine as too difficult to administer, but was surprised at his young patient's fortitude when Tiaa said that found the taste not too unpleasant and was able to drink several mouthfuls without coughing. 	When she was done, Heredotus gently lowered her head back down to the bed. 
	"Thank you," she managed as Heredotus watched her twist her bedding between sweaty, white-knuckled fingers as she struggled to keep the intensity of her pain from overwhelming her.
	He waited for her breathing to slow as he marvelled at her courage. When he spoke, he did so with a matter-of-fact tone of authority. "Now, while we wait for that to take effect, I might as well introduce myself. My name is Heredotus, but those who know me best call me Harry. I am a physician, a healer. You have already met my young assistant, Dimitri. He is busy cleaning himself up at the moment." Heredotus couldn't keep the hint of laughter from his voice.
	"Sorry," she said. "I thought."
	"Id wad an accidend," came a voice from somewhere behind Heredotus.
	Heredotus watched Tiaa's body relax slightly as the medicine loosened the grip of pain on her. To his shock, he heard her giggle. 
"My face and hands feel fuzzy and warm. Ooh, and my lips are fat and tingly. Sorry," she said with a slight slur and giggled again.
	"It sounds like someone's ready to have that bandage changed," said Heredotus with a gentle chuckle. Heredotus looked over at Dimitri who was finished cleaning himself up. The bleeding from his nose had stopped and there was a faint purple hue to the area below both of his eyes, but he appeared otherwise unharmed. 
	With a raise of an eyebrow, he motioned for Dimitri to hold Tiaa's head. Dimitri cradled Tiaa's head gently in his ample hands as Heredotus began removing the herb soaked linen strips from her face.
	The room was silent except for Tiaa's occasional gasp and Heredotus's gentle reassurance. The bandages on her face were caked with dried blood and took some time to remove without causing further injury. Once done, Heredotus cleaned the remaining dried blood off with the tepid water and examined the face underneath.
	Tiaa's face was swollen to the point that her nose appeared stretched across the tight, glossy, purple of her cheeks. Her eyes were swollen shut and the once lush lashes were crusted over in clumps with yellowish fluid and blood. Her upper lip was swollen and stretched taut, giving Heredotus a view of the moist inner pink of her mouth. Heredotus lifted her upper lip gently with both thumbs and examined her teeth. Mercifully, they were all still there, although the two front ones were slightly loose. He palpated gently along Tiaa's cheekbones and was satisfied that they were healing well and were not displaced. The bridge of her nose was miraculously whole.
	He turned her head and saw that there was and angry purple crescent of bruising behind each of her ears. With a small strip of linen, he cleaned the dried blood from within her ear canals. Heredotus looked at Dimitri and nodded solemnly.
	Dimitri knew as well that this was not a good sign. He had been working as Heredotus's assistant long enough to know that that kind of bruising meant that there was a possibility that Tiaa had broken the bones deep inside her face. Dimitri had seen patients who were left with tremors or memory problems when this type of injury happened. Some died. 
	With a grim expression, Heredotus gently cleaned the rest of Tiaa's face. 
	"Let me know if the pain gets too great and I will stop," said Heredotus as he wiped her face carefully with the lightest of strokes.
	"My face needs tending. I will endure what I must. Besides, the cool water feels good over my hurts."
	He stopped occasionally to let her catch her breath when he noticed beads of perspiration forming on the bruised flesh of her forehead. Her breath whistled softly as she inhaled through her swollen nasal passages. Heredotus noted that she couldn't breathe through her nose much at all.
	"Your nose is swollen quite a bit, but I am confident that you will be able to breathe easier once the swelling goes down some more." 
	Tiaa stretched her purple lips in a lopsided smile, "I think that I am able to smell some things though. When you were cleaning my face, I thought that I was able to get the occasional whiff of something that reminds me of my father's perfumes." The smile faded from her face.
	"You are being very kind to me," she said, changing the subject.
	Heredotus saw her struggle with sadness play out on her stretched and discoloured face and continued on with his treatment of her wounds in companionable silence. She tried to cooperate the best she could, bravely enduring what had to be done without complaint. Once the ministrations were completed, Heredotus assisted Dimitri in easing her slowly to a sitting position. Tiaa was slightly wobbly but was prevented from falling by Dimitri's reassuringly steady hands at her back.
	"Try to open your eyes," said Heredotus.
	Tiaa's eyes opened as much as the swelling permitted. It was enough for the two men to see the striking emerald colour of her eyes. Heredotus thought that they might even have been beautiful except that the parts of her eyes that were normally white were a deep dusky red. It gave her the appearance of a creature of the underworld, hovering just beyond death waiting for a hapless soul to ferry to the dominion of Hades. As experienced a healer as he was, Heredotus found he was unable to look into those eyes without feeling a shudder travel the length of his spine.
	"Light a lamp for me, if you please Heredotus," said Tiaa.
	Dimitri's head jerked up as he looked at his mentor in wide-eyed shock. Heredotus brought a hand up signalling for his silence. Heredotus was as still as stone except for a slight twitch at the corner of his left eye. The colour had drained from his face. 
	"Tell me what you see," he said.
	"It is too dark. I don't see anything."
	"My dear child," said the healer gently. "It is mid-day. The sun is out and this room is at its brightest. Do you see anything? Anything at all?"
	"No. Nothing." The understanding of what she was hearing dawned on her suddenly and her lower lip began to tremble. "I can't see. I can't see anything at all." She made a small strangled sound and began to sob, tears streaming from her sightless eyes.
	Heredotus placed a tentative arm around his patient in an attempt to give her some comfort in her grief. Tiaa went rigid, and Heredotus knew that the pain of the man who beat her was still fresh in her memory. 
	"I don't mean to cause you more pain," said Heredotus. "You have been hurt terribly. Perhaps you should rest now. I will return shortly with some herbs that may help ease your wounds."

***

	The warmth of the hands that had been supporting her back faded as Tiaa concentrated on the sounds of the two men leaving the room. She was alone. The pain had almost been too much to bear, but the healer had been so kind to her, she felt that she had to endure what she could. Tiaa reached gingerly around behind her and felt the softness of the linens on the bed behind her. Easing herself down onto her back, she pulled the thin linen sheet over her up to her chin. 	Every time she moved, the pain knifed through her causing her head to swim and threatening her with unconsciousness. 
	She lay there unmoving for several minutes to catch her breath before tentatively reaching up with her hand and touching her face lightly with the tips of her fingers. Her face felt hard and the features were foreign to her touch. She brought her other hand to her face and began probing more aggressively. Finally, she stopped and placed both her hands over her eyes.
	Oh Pa, what has happened to me? 
	It occurred to her that she had been beaten just like her father and she wondered how he endured the intense agony that threatened to overwhelm her even with the Healer's strong medicine. She then realized that she had not been beaten just like her father-he was dead. 
Her grief welled up through her as hot as her physical pain. 
	Oh gods, help me to bear this.or let me die.

***

	Heredotus and Dimitri stood silently watching Tiaa from the doorway. Herodotus's expressionless face looked like it was chiselled in stone. Dimitri, in contrast, was awash in worry and every inch of his demeanour reflected his empathy for the young woman lying on the table in front of them.
	"Why are we waiting here?" whispered Dimitri.
	The healer's eyes flicked toward Dimitri's. Dimitri saw grief reflected there briefly before they returned to the observation of their patient. "We are waiting for the healing," Heredotus whispered in return.
	Back in the room, Tiaa's hands were still covering her face. After a long while of seemingly nothing happening, Heredotus and Dimitri saw that her shoulders were shaking slightly. Tiaa had begun weeping silently.
	Turning to his assistant, Heredotus said, "It's time to go."
	Startled, Dimitri looked at Heredotus in disbelief. "Why?"
	Heredotus pointed a long finger at the weeping girl. "Because the healing has finally begun," He said quietly.