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Throughout the Ages
Age of Stone: chapter 22

Age of Stone: chapter 22

( Jormund POV)

"Kali! What… What are you doing here? And why do you look so shifty?"

Yor and I are on our way to inspect the recently-conquered hollow when we stumble across the goblin in the center of our camp. Given the unfortunate genocidal tendencies of the wolfkin, this is rather unexpected.

"Hmm, Jormund, and Yor. Excellent, marvellous, eh? Yes, most good to see the two of you! Ah... Would you mind following me?"

"You in a hurry? And why are you here? It’s not safe for you."

From the direction of our bivouacs for the wounded, a torrent of curses and insults marrs the mild spring morning. The voice sounds rather like Kali, strangely, but older, and with more authority in its tone.

I raise an eyebrow and look down at Kali.

"Anyone you know?"

"...Perhaps."

Yor laughs loudly, and gives Kali a friendly smack on the back. That he has to bend down to do so, and that this throws the goblin to the ground, seems to completely escape his notice.

"Hah! It takes some nerve for a goblin to walk into a wolfkin camp and start making a fuss! Come, let’s go and meet this acquaintance of yours, shall we?! Anyone who can curse like that deserves my respect, or at least my attention!"

Yor strides off towards the treatment area, leaving me to pull Kali back to his feet and hurry after.

As we approach the source of the disruption, the way is blocked by a fast-growing crowd. I shoulder my way though behind Yor, while Kali simply slips between people’s legs. At the center, a wizened goblin, bedecked in countless pouches and righteous indignation. I can see why Kali was making his escape.

The other characters in this drama stand on around him. Behind, Trai, with a conflicted look on his face. I fancy I see something of surprise and confusion in his visage, with something of a stupid grin mixed in for good measure.

Standing in front of the goblin, and taking the brunt of his furious lecturing, is our herbalist, Lani, looking rather disgruntled. Lani’s no true healer, but we’ve been getting by on her skills so far. Still, while she’s good at many things, taking advice and criticism has never been one of them.

Finally, behind her is her sister Nym. I have something of a thing for Nym, truth be told. And, given my attention is rather drawn to her, I can’t help but notice that her mouth is hanging open in a way that I find terribly attractive, but nevertheless is an expression of shock and bewilderment. Which is fair, given that the elderly belligerent keeps leaning around Lani to shout at her.

"Hmm. Well, I do enjoy a challenge in the morning. Stops me from getting complacent in my old age."

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( Gordune POV )

Bah! Youth today! Shameless of their ignorance! No respect! Blasted young whippersnappers, dallying around and impeding their betters! How dare she have the nerve to keep me from my task, just because she’s taller than me?!

I’ve made damn sure that human child will never disrespect an elder again, and I’m halfway through the same treatment for her older sister, when Kali returns. It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder why he’d wandered off, but apparently it was to fetch the two humans who now accompany him. Kali pulls me aside, which rather breaks my flow, and I realise I’ve drawn quite a crowd.

Well. Good. Perhaps they’ve learnt something.

I find myself looking up at an elderly human man. Finally, some sort of equal, rather than these young tykes. Kali introduces him as ‘Yor’.

"Enough, please, medecine man! I think you made your point, hah! I’ve never seen either of the girls so quiet!"

"Young people! I tell you, human nor goblin, they see I’m old and think they know better! Well, I hope she doesn’t forget today’s lesson! But, still, I’m sure you know; you seem like something of an elder yourself, is that not so, hmm?"

Now… I’ve forgotten something in all the fuss… Oh! Yes! If you excuse me, Yor, I must tend to the wounded! It is my duty!

This ‘Yor’ human seems ready to agree and get out of my way, but alas, it seems the arrogant young woman is still arrogant and young, and possesses the sharpness of hearing that comes with the latter.

"No! You shall not! They are under my care, and you’ve done nothing to give me reason to believe that you can take better care of them then I can! Quite the opposite, in fact!"

Oh, why must everything be so difficult? Still, it seems that I must use the most unexpected tool in the goblin armoury: tact.

"Well, that it because you’ve given me no opportunity to show you! Come! Follow, and I will teach you something of treating wounds from goblin claws!"

No, she’s not buying it. Her mouth opens to disagree angrily, when the human elder suddenly speaks up.

"Just allow him, Lani. I appreciate your knowledge and skill, but you’re still only partially trained, with only a few months of learning from those elves. Whereas this goblin has no doubt been healing people for longer than you’ve been alive. Instead of trying to stop him, quell your pride and learn something!"

The older female, who is apparently called Lani, sighs, defeated resentment in her glare. An unhappy pupil, but at least she doesn’t openly refuse. This Yor seems better at inspiring respect and compliance than I. Perhaps it’s because he’s so tall.

I follow Lani around the circle of shelters, quietly inspecting each of the wounded. In fairness to the girl, their treatment could have been far worse - I definitely recognise the elvish techniques in some of the bindings. A broken leg, a clean cut across the ribs, nothing too dangerous. The third patient, however, is in greater danger. His right thigh has been cut deeply, barely missing the artery, and I can see the faintest signs of an oncoming infection. I pull a few herbs, some fresh and some dried, from my pouches. I ask for some water and bowl, and Lani hands them to me, her curiosity overcoming her resentment. I begin to mix up a paste.

"What… What are you doing?"

"This man was scratched by a goblin, yes? Yes. With claws. Scratched deeply. If the wound heals badly, he will never walk without pain again. Also, I fear gangrene and infection. This is a mix of ground-up Faers Root and some dried Conhi leaves. It should help to calm the infection. Faers Root absorbs some simple poisons, among other things, and should calm inflammation. The Conhi leaves will dry out the wound, killing infection."

I show her how to apply the paste, before getting up and walking to the next.

"Wait, that’s it, no bandages? Nothing against the pain?"

"No, we want pain. Pain tells us that there is hurt. When there is no pain, there is death."

She absorbs this as I mix up a different poultice for the next patient. After a few minutes of work, she speaks again.

"What do you mean, that when there’s no pain, there’s only death?"

I roll my eyes while I finish and rise to move on.

"It is too late when you feel no more pain. It means the infection is too deep. It means you must remove the limb to try and save the person."

Her face pales and she carefully nods.

"If I don’t do this, they always die. When I remove the limb, they might survive."

"Might?"

"Yes, one out of every…. twelve survives. Pretty good, no?"

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Darkness enshrouds the world as I focus my will. Soon, all that’s visible in my blinded vision is the slow, green, pulsing ball of light gently pooling in my cupped hands.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Too slow, he’s weak. Too weak. Something ails the patient, something below the surface. I must seek out the weakness.

I adjust my hands slightly, rocking the light-stealing amulet within back and forth, fanning its glow across the patient. There, a slight strengthening, I focus the amulet back at that point. Slowly, I home in, the pulse gaining in strength, a good sign. I slip into the meditative state that is the basis of true magic.

Find the weak points and focus on them, working slowly. The first is simple. A fracture, never healed, constant grinding. A mere… hour’s work, to repair, to twitch and align and knit.

The next is harder, far harder. Internal bleeding, always a danger. I lose track of time, tracking down the ruptures and sealing them, one by one. Even with my experience of magic, it requires the deepest of concentration. Finally, however, I have dammed the flows. It will get no worse.

And then… and then the last. So obvious, once I’d found it, that I’m almost startled from my meditation. Infection, from a lesser scratch across the stomach. Infection deep, and painful, and festering.

Almost certainly fatal. Even with magic, still dangerous.

Suddenly, I am interrupted by a hand tugging on my shoulder. The pulse shatters, the light evaporates back into the world. As I blink, my sight returns. It is the girl from earlier... Nym? Yes, Nym.

"Gobl- Ah… Elder, you should pause, rest. The sun is already setting. You haven’t eaten since morning."

What? How long was I working on this human? Now that she mentions it, I do feel tired. Very tired. It’s because humans are so much bigger than my kind, everything takes longer. I must have been deep indeed into my trance.

"Um… Is there anything that I can do to help?"

Good girl. She’s come some way since I admonished her so thoroughly. The apology I expected, but I also get the impression that she’s angling to become my apprentice. Certainly, she’s been eager enough and learned quickly in the last few days, on our way to the human village. Hmm. We’ll see. If there are no other options.

"Uhm…. elder?"

Oh right, answer her. I really should take some rest.

The human will still be here tomorrow.

Unless he’s not.

"Yes… Yes. Rest. I know. Just... pour some water over the wounds, rinse them. Then replace the herb mixture we applied this morning. I’ve done what I can. Still more work for tomorrow."

I stagger to the doorway, my legs numb from many hours of kneeling over the patient. I glimpse the last of the sun’s rays as I leave the hut. Behind me, I hear the patient moan, as he tosses and turns in his sleep. The infection is deep, and burns fast.

Most of the human tribe is sitting around the main bonfire. My tribe, now, I suppose. Mine and what few goblins remain.

Well, perhaps not so very few. My step lightens as I spot my descendants sitting together around their own fire, apart from the humans but not afraid. After all, we goblins grow quickly. Perhaps I’ll live to see them outnumber the humans. And none of them will have to become a hunter to see sunlight.

It’s a freedom bought at a terrible cost, but so are all freedoms. Perhaps it was worth it.

I gently shake my head as I note Kali working on another of his creations by the flickering light of the flames. His sister, Vis, is sitting nearby, keeping an eye on him, making sure he doesn’t run off again. She still sees him as an anklebiter. Well, perhaps he still is, in some ways. Clever, but not always wise. Not yet.

Ah, but I have a duty, still. Ever the duty, for a poor medicine man. No rest, yet. Slowly, I curve my path back towards the human’s fire. Cara is in her usual spot, where she can keep an eye on everything. Her husband is considered to be the leader of the village, but I suspect that her watchfulness rules most decisions. A powerful elder, oh yes. Wife of leader, mother of the next - Jormund sits nearby, taking care of his little sister.

And now I must tell her that her husband is not yet healed.

As I step into the light, faces turn towards me. Most are unfriendly. Fools. Still, they’ll do nothing while Yor supports me and my kin, and for that I am grateful. Spotting the glowers of his fellows, Yor calls out to me, welcoming.

"Gordune! Old guy, you look tired. Come, sit with me!"

I still don’t know how I earned Yor’s trust, really. Perhaps he just spotted the kinship of another elder in me. I can’t say I don’t like him. An open and honest man who will do almost anything in the name of comradery. I owe him much for his support in our ‘negotiations’ with the humans.

If it weren’t for Yor’s generosity, we’d probably all be dead.

"Ah! Yor! Later, oh yes! But… I must talk to Cara, and to Jormund. I’ve been treating your human headman, Madok."

Yor’s face darkens with concern. I can see the question forming in his head, but I shake mine.

"I must speak to Cara, first."

Yor closes his mouth into a compressed line, and then nods and escorts me to Cara and Jormund. Most of the onlookers’ gazes have changed to curiosity, or, amongst the smarter, worry.

"Greetings Cara, Jormund. I have... news regarding Madok.

It’s not… good. No, it’s very not. I’ve healed much, already, but there is something worse. An infection. It runs deep. I will continue, tomorrow.

I think… I think, if he survives the night, with my continued attention, he will get better. Little by little. Never fully healed, perhaps. But… I think he’ll live. With luck."

"Thank you. Truly, thank you. And, for what it’s worth, this may balance the scales, a little. His wound stems from your kind, and that the healing of it does too… Well, it will help other humans to forgive. Myself, I just want my husband back."

I don’t think she understands that there’s still risk. But it would not be tactful to say so.

It would also not be tactful to let Madok die. But a medicine man always does his utmost, so it makes no difference.

Jormund nods to me, and takes his mother aside, a private family moment. Yor and I walk back to the fire.

"Never fully healed, you said. How much better will he get?"

"I don’t know. Much depends on himself. I can perform magic, but not miracles, hmm?"

Now… Where might I get something to drink and eat? I... forgot to have lunch.

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( Nym POV )

I hurry towards the tent used by Elder Gordune, feet pounding the dry earth. When I reach the tent, I cough loudly, in the hopes of waking him. No luck. I kneel and push my head inside: even for a diminutive human like myself, a goblin’s tent is too cramped to enter. And, in this case, too full: herbs hang from the roof pole, gently drying, giving the tent the oddest of aromas.

Elderly goblin and assorted weeds. Urgh.

After a few seconds of scanning the mess, I spot the elder beneath a pile of pouches, and gingerly shake his shoulder.

"What is this?! Let your elders sleep in peace!"

"I, I, I’m sorry, elder, but Madok’s awake! You told me to wake you when he did!"

"Bah! Why didn’t you say so sooner! Young people, never getting to the point! Just one moment."

I retract myself as Gordune stirs. After a moment, he emerges from his den, fully bedecked in his equipment.

We enter Madok’s hut, passing Jormund at the entrance. Cara sits on the ground beside the bedridden Madok. He blinks, vaguely, as we enter.

"I must… I must still be in pretty bad shape. I am certain you said that Nym went for our healer but… but all I can see is a goblin. Very strange."

"Hah! Greetings headman. I am indeed the new healer of your tribe. If you will allow me, I need to check your progress, perhaps ask you a few questions, hmm?"

Madok looks shocked, but Cara quells him with a look. Meekly, the ‘headman’ agrees, and Gordune gets to work. I note that Madok flinches a little when the goblin touches him, the first time. After that, he restrains the urge, although I think it takes some effort.

There’s a reason why, even after a month in a coma, Madok is still the undisputed leader of the tribe.

Taking his amulet in his hands, Gordune descends once more into a trance. Even for the rest of us, our vision darkens a little, and his amulet emits a noticeable green pulsing across our vision.

Both Cara and Jormund stare in surprise; it’s the first time they’ve seen it. Gordune is careful, and it seems he rarely uses magic except when he has to.

Madok’s face is impassive. He just watches.

I wander out into the sunlight; I’ve seen this before, often for hours at a time. Jormund follows me out.

"That! I know that! How is he doing that?!"

"I’m not... entirely certain. He said he’d teach me, when he thought I was ready."

"He is teaching you?!"

"Yes. I saw him doing it the other day, when he was fighting your father’s infection. When I asked him what he did, why my vision went so dark, he just looked at me kinda’ funny and asked to whether I wanted to learn. Then he told me to hold his amulet and did... something, and said that I would do just fine. He’s given me a few smaller stones similar to the one his amulet is made of, although he hasn’t said what I should do with them yet."

I pull out the small green stones from one of the pouches I now carry for Gordune.

"I was going to ask one of the craftsmen to string them together, so I could wear them, you know? Um… I’m not sure whether around the neck or wrist. I don’t want it to be inconvenient. But they are beautiful. And I don’t want to lose them by accident. Um..."

Jormund just stares at the stones, clearly somewhere else. His face is a picture of surprise. After a moment, he shakes his head, and looks back up at me.

"Sorry, sorry. It’s just... what did you say, again?"

"I was saying… Jormund, is… is something wrong?"

"Not… not... wrong, but... I just remembered that I have a, a debt to repay. I’ll explain, some other time. Ah... regarding your stones. Hmm. Actually I don’t think it matters, they’ll look good anywhere you wear them."

He grins, and I blush. Blast. Why can’t I control that, like Lani. I turn away, and hope he hasn’t noticed.

"Um, who do you think could make the best use of them? I was thinking of giving them to Lor..."

"If you want the best, ask Kali, that young goblin. Gordune’s grandson. Tell him I sent you. He’ll get you the best result - and he won’t waste any of your jade."