After a moment, Jere sighed. “Alright, you caught me. I do mercenary work for Mendalla. I am a priest, though it isn't my first job.”
“That’s right!” the male guard exclaimed. “Your name is Jere!”
“Why are you masquerading as a priest, Jere?” asked the female guard. “Could get you in a lot of trouble.”
“Tell me about it,” Jere said. “Look, I was hoping to avoid a situation, but it seems like I have no choice.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “This man is one of Mendalla’s… um… ‘concubines.’ Long history. She’d rather not deal with the situation publicly, as you can imagine.”
“No wonder. That woman has so many secrets.” The male guard’s tone seemed to relax somewhat. “Have you heard who we currently have in the chambers?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Her daughter-in-law, supposedly. Apparently, she was cursed and started an incident earlier. Was killed in a scuffle. Attacked a guard named Duncic.”
Jere nodded. “Yes, I was there. I saw the whole thing. Terrible incident. I had no idea she knew Mendalla though.” Appo couldn’t help but notice that Jere didn’t mention he was the one who personally killed the daughter-in-law.
“I understand the privacy, then,” the female guard said. “Having your daughter-in-law and lover die on the same moon would be overwhelming for anyone.”
“Truly. She wanted to ask Enlil personally, but the priest has his head twisted too far around as is. So, she left the task with me. I apologize for any misunderstanding that’s happened here.”
The female guard spoke with empathy. “Don’t apologize. We’re just being cautious, crazy times as it is. Send my regards to Mendalla, please.”
The male guard laughed. “Do no such thing for me. She’s stayed in power too long as is. Ash needs a new face, someone who isn’t a century old.”
“You’d support Boah? But he’s so young.”
“Of course I would! ‘The Big Man for the Little People.’ He’s going to change this town, and I like that he’s not afraid to criticize the other Heads. Mendalla has been using the Corps for years now, and what good has that done us? There’s no more excitement in this job, and need I say anything about the pay?”
As the guards descended into political discourse, the tumbril jerked and carried on. “Thank you both for your kindness!” Jere nearly shouted. Appo was able to keep his mouth shut, but he had to exhale the moment they moved on. The guards carried no mind.
The halls of the temple felt tight, as the rickety wheels of the tumbril kept scraping the sides of the walls. The tumbril shifted as Jere took it through what felt to Appo to be an endless series of corridors and chambers. Appo let his body go limp and toss in the tumbril, and found his head pressed against one of the back corners. He allowed himself to breathe only slightly. The rot flower smell was becoming slightly more bearable, but Appo felt as though the repugnant sheet was seeping into his skin.
After an uncomfortable amount of time of shifting and tilting, the tumbril finally came to a stop. Appo heard Jere groan as he pushed what sounded like a heavy object, before picking up the tumbril once more. He pulled it just a little further before coming to a stop again. Jere whispered. “We’re here.”
Jere pulled the sheets off Appo’s head. Appo repressed a cough and took a quick look around the room. They were in a cramped chamber, with the ceiling rising just above Jere’s head. Numerous urns and trinkets of assorted sizes lined the walls. The room was wide, and four mud brick slabs took up the middle. On top of middle two slabs lay two bodies wrapped in linen.
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As Appo took in his surroundings, Jere moved to the entrance. A massive stone slab consisted of the door, and Jere grunted as he heaved it to the side. The slab moved slowly, but Appo was surprised it moved at all; it looked as if it would take several men to move the stone slab even a little. Here Jere was, moving it by himself. He must’ve been stronger than he looked, and he already looked incredibly strong.
After pushing the slab against the door, Jere huffed and moved to Appo. “Had to check a few chambers. This was the only one that was closed off. No one will be coming here any time soon.”
Appo stretched his legs and climbed out of the tumbril, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling in the process. “Thanks, Jere. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“I pray you find what you’re looking for, healer. This is a remarkably dangerous position to be in. If Adok decides to be a hero, we’re done, not to mention everything else.”
Appo reached under the sheets and pulled out his surgical bag. He paced over to the bodies with care, placing the bag near the legs of the smaller one. “To be frank, I’m not sure what exactly I’m looking for. This may not help us understand where the disease came from, but a little scientific inquiry is the best hope we have at beating this.”
Jere scoffed. “So, we’re endangering ourselves for a gamble then.”
“Yes.”
Appo unrolled his surgery kit. Several iron blades and scalpels were lined in the bag, along with forceps and scissors. He pulled out some leather gloves and an apron. Jere stood awkwardly near the door, looking with concern at Appo’s presentation.
“I know this looks barbaric,” Appo began, “but I assure you that when we are done, she will look good as new. I will not desecrate her body. This is for the good of the town, remember that. Besides, how do you think I learned human anatomy?”
Jere said nothing. As Appo checked his equipment, Jere walked toward the longer of the dead bodies. The corpses were both lined in linen wrappings and topped with beads and amulets. Their faces were unwrapped, and as he approached Jere could make out the gray-bearded face of Duncic. The side of his neck was a dull red, but he otherwise looked content; his eyes were closed, and his silver hair was combed back behind his head. It was very possible that if the circumstances were slightly different, Jere could have been on the slab alongside Duncic. There was still a chance that would happen anyway.
“Jere, I’m afraid I’m going to need your help.”
Jere scowled. “How? I know nothing about medicine.”
“I need someone to hand me tools whenever I need them, and I need someone to hold the linens apart while I make the initial incisions. If any blood gets on the wrappings, they’re going to know that someone was here. I’m going to cut through these in a way where we can wrap her back up as soon as I’m done.”
“And how long will that take?”
Appo shook his head. “This is a delicate process even under better circumstances. It’ll take all night, for sure. I won’t be able to observe her head or her limbs, but I should be able to look at the abdomen and her chest cavity.”
Jere grimaced. The thought of cutting open this woman seemed revolting to him. Still, it was too late to turn back now. Jere walked to the side of the corpse.
As Appo continued cutting through the linen wrappings with his scissors, Jere looked over this body. Her face was gaunt and covered in scratches, with the edges of her mouth torn apart. Her face was still in a painful grimace, in sharp contrast to Duncic’s calm and peaceful expression. Her scalp was missing mats of black hair. Aside from the obvious injuries, something was off about the corpse. Jere kept looking at her pained expression as if waiting for her to open her bloodshot eyes and mouth and scream.
Jere looked towards Appo. He had just finished his cutting, and the linens were strewn on top of the woman’s chest. Appo’s cuts were intricate and precise, though he cut them fast. He moved from the feet to the other side of the slab across from Jere.
“Okay,” said Appo, “are you ready? This is going to be a dangerous job. You need to wear gloves, and whatever you do, don’t get blood on your skin. Don’t wipe your forehead, don’t scratch an itch, anything like that.”
“Healer, what makes you so sure I don’t already have this disease? Why trust me?”
Appo put his hands down along the side of the slab. “I have two theories. One, the disease spreads by blood, we refer to it as 'bloodborne.' You see all these lacerations on her face? Before he turned, Bjorn kept saying he was ‘itchy’ and needed to scratch himself. That pools blood and flesh under the fingernails due to his pruritic responses. When they start screaming and go on the attack, they swipe at you with their hands. If they scratch you, their blood gets into your body. I haven’t come across too many diseases like it, but they exist. If that’s the case, you’re not infected. You were never scratched.”
That put Jere at ease. “And the second theory?”
Appo hesitated. “The disease is like most others and spreads by close contact, or spreads through the air. Just being near it is enough to transmit. If that's the case, you and I, along with the rest of the town, are doomed.”
Silence fell over the two. Appo looked over the corpse and grinned. “I’m much more confident about theory one. You may not believe it, but I’m normally right about these things.”
“I don’t think you have a single idea as to what this is.”
“Welcome to medicine.”
The two carefully pulled aside the cut linens, taking care to not displace the bindings. Underneath was a covering of leather, which Appo made through with careful cuts with his scissors. Pulling apart the leather revealed Mena’s concave bare chest. The fumes building up under Mena’s wrappings seeped upward, though the smell wasn’t nearly as bad as the rot flower. A large bloody gash where Jere had thrust his scimitar lay right below her right breast, alongside the many scratches and abrasions that seemed to cover Mena’s entire body. Her stomach was bloated and misshapen, yet her ribs almost pierced the skin. It was an unusual corpse.
Appo brought his scalpel up to Mena’s right clavicle and made an incision.