Chapter 6
[Drepano, Patrae-Vasíleio]
[10:00 AM]
The murmuring of the crowd grows in volume as Lucas and Wren approach the center of the settlement. The street through which they walk is narrow and paved in concrete. Houses with beige walls and orange-tiled roofs stand at either side behind short lawns and thin fences. In overall appearance, the town resembles a refurbished Agios, ruins restored and buildings reclaimed from wild vegetation. But down side streets and alleyways, there are no people in sight. Evidently, every last soul is gathered around that house.
Lucas can make out some of what is being said among the crowd of people: “I hope he pulls through” and “how did this happen”.
Having come close enough that she and Lucas are effectively part of the crowd, Wren turns her attention to one of the women nearby. “Excuse me, ma’am.” She catches the attention of three or four people before they turn back to face the house. The lady she makes eye contact with stays facing her. “What’s going on here?”
“They found a man collapsed in that house a while ago. I don’t know who.”
“How long ago?”
“I’m not sure, didn’t know about this until recently.”
Lucas, having heard the woman’s responses, exasperates lightly and turns to the center of the crowd. He looks into the doorway of the house. “I’m going in.” He informs Wren in passing as he begins shuffling his way into the crowd. He turns sideways as he goes, slipping through the forest of people.
Wren sighs and turns her attention back to the civilian and puts on a warm expression. “Thank you.”
She follows Lucas deeper into the crowd, apologizing to civilians as she goes. Meanwhile, Lucas is already in the doorway. Inside the house is a small group of people surrounding a bed in the corner of the main room. All along the walls are desks, cabinets, and instruments that conjure the image of a medical practitioner in Lucas’s head. The rest of the room is mostly clear of people save for the area close to the door where people are apprehensive to move in any further. Lucas holds no such apprehension.
“Excuse me.” He announces his presence while approaching the circle of people and stops near the center of the room. “Can I ask what’s happened here?” His anticipation grows as he gets closer to the bed, with the assumption that he will see a man with a leg injury, Homer Smith. Those ideas dissipate when one of the people, a woman, turns towards Lucas, giving him a glimpse at the man on the bed. Both of his legs are fine and he appears to be unconscious. Further, Lucas determines his age to be far greater than that of Homer.
The woman who turned in response to his sudden appearance answers Lucas with a raised brow. “And who are you?”
Another woman chimes in before he can respond, chastising the first woman. “Don’t be so harsh. Maybe he’s an alchemist.” She turns her attention to him. “Do you practice medicine?”
Lucas shakes his head and puts up a hand. “I’m no alchemist.” In a last idea before deciding to leave, he wonders if their medical emergency may have been Homer’s doing. “This looks like a doctor’s working space. Did an injured man come by looking for treatment?”
Both women appear to think for a moment before turning to a young man across from the bed. His sombre, half-lidded gaze is fixed on the man below. One of them catches his attention. “Nathan, didn’t you say something about a patient earlier?”
Lucas gets closer just as Wren enters the room. She questions him on the situation but he continues forward, rounding to the other side of the bed to converse with the young man directly. He guesses Nathan to be no more than seventeen years old. Further visual inspection, particularly in some resemblance between the boy and the man in the bed implies that the two are related. At this, Lucas takes on a softer approach.
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“Sorry for barging in on you like this. We’re looking for a criminal. Can you describe the patient who was here earlier?”
Nathan takes a deep breath before speaking, almost a sigh. He slowly closes his eyes and turns to Lucas. When he opens them once more, Lucas can see how lifeless they are. “We treated a man here about half an hour ago, with a gash in his leg.”
“Can I speak with the doctor?” Lucas’s line of thinking has already made some educated guesses about the situation. Nathan includes himself as having treated the patient, so he must be a doctor’s apprentice. At his age, he cannot be the doctor himself.
“Not really, no. What happened was—”
“Wait.” The word flies out of Wren’s mouth suddenly. Lucas turns to see that she’s removed the kingdom’s brass crest from her backpack and is displaying it to the room. “This is Court business. I want everyone but Nathan to leave the building.”
At the sight of the emblem, the few people in the room roll their eyes and reluctantly file out through the door. The last of them shuts the door as they go.
When Lucas turns back to Nathan, he sees that the boy has taken it upon himself to bring three chairs from the corner of the room and place them near the foot of the bed. He takes a seat and also gestures to invite Lucas and Wren to sit. When they’ve done so, he continues. “I’ll tell you what I know, but it isn’t much.”
He pauses to look once again at the man who lies comatose in the bed. His gaze still fixed, as though the man will disappear if he takes his eyes off of him, Nathan continues. “This is the town’s doctor, Noah. He’s also my grandfather. I’m his apprentice in this trade.” He turns back towards Lucas and Wren, but opts to look at the wooden floor rather than at either of them. “A little more than thirty minutes ago, I think, a man rode into town with a bloody cloth wrapped around his right knee. He was asking for a doctor and he could barely dismount his horse without falling to the ground. My grandfather and I helped the man into this house and laid him on this bed. Our plan was to use a sedative to put him to sleep so we could stitch up his leg. I went into the back room to get the needle and thread while my grandfather injected the patient with the serum. Last I saw, my grandfather had the injection in his hand and he was about to administer it. I don’t know what happened while I was out of the room, but I heard Noah yell like he had been attacked and then a thud. When I came to see the cause, my grandfather was on the floor in a daze. The empty injector was stuck in his arm. The patient was sitting up in the bed with a confused look on his face. I could hear him whispering ‘no’ over and over again. I had never seen someone so afraid. He got up from the bed and limped out of the house pretty quickly. My grandfather passed out shortly afterward and he’s been like this since.”
Through the course of Nathan’s recounting, Lucas’s mind goes from analyzing to sympathizing. The tale is a sad one: well-meaning people having found themselves in the lap of misfortune. To lose a father-figure is nothing new to Lucas.
“Do you think your grandfather will be alright?” Lucas assumes through little experience that the sedative will wear off with time. However, since entering the home, he has only seen Nathan’s eyes glossed over with sorrow. He’s almost afraid to ask, lest he hear the worst.
“The dose of sedative in the vial was standard for a middle-aged man. But the older you get, the less it takes to affect you. The patient left with what looked like minimal pain, so he probably got about a tenth of the vial, just enough to numb him. My grandfather got the rest.” Nathan takes a moment to breathe, a slow inhale and a sigh of an exhale. “He’s seventy five years old. I don’t know if he’ll wake up…” His voice tapers off into silence.
Wren assesses Lucas’s expression, one which reflects that of Nathan. But behind it is a hint of disdain for the whole scenario. Where Nathan’s heartache obviously runs to his core, there is something more aggressive than mere melancholy in Lucas’s eyes. She discerns that he likely has nothing more to say and decides to take charge of the conversation.
“I’m sorry about your grandfather.” Her voice is full of compassion. She pauses for a response but receives only a nod of affirmation. “The man who did this is a wanted criminal. We’re on our way to apprehend him before he can harm anyone else.” She stands and steps away from her seat. Lucas does the same, present in the situation though his expression is unchanged.
Nathan looks up at both of them, his eyes slightly more alive. “I know I wasn’t there to see it, but I don’t think that man meant to do this.” He then looks off into nothing, recalling what he witnessed. “I saw the look on his face. I’m convinced it was an accident…”
Those words shake Lucas from his trance and make him look at the boy once more. He can’t help but process Nathan’s sentiment over and over again, unsure about whether or not he heard correctly. The sincerity in the boy’s voice on behalf of the man they’re hunting down is the last thing he expects to hear.
Wren appears to think nothing of it, continuing. “Do you know which way he left?”
“No. But Jane, the baker’s wife, tends to horses. She took in the man’s horse just after he arrived and probably gave it back to him when he left. I’d think she knows.”
“Thank you. One more thing: don’t share that story with anyone else. It’s quite vague, and you wouldn’t want rumors or wrong conclusions going around.” Nathan nods in response. “I hope your grandfather gets well.” She starts towards the door and Lucas follows.
Before stepping out behind her, he holds the door and looks back into the room. “Take good care of him.” Lucas says with the hopes of conveying his sympathy. His emotion is not lost on Nathan, who looks him in the eyes, nods, and replies with a quiet ‘yeah’.
Lucas slowly brings the door to a close. His last sight into the room is of Nathan turning to face the bed and resting his head softly onto the foot board.