Agatha found herself reeling under a veritable mountain of infirmary duties for the next few days. Battalions from Luteri were still arriving thick and fast, with wounded soldiers left lying in front of the infirmary because they were out of cots. Agatha was glad for the change of the season; it kept the flies away and prevented the wounds from festering too quickly. Her evenings were spent harvesting feverfew, hemlock and poppy from her garden. She rushed to her garden before daybreak again, to lay out the herbs to dry out in the sun. On most days, the herbs were not dried fully but she had to put them in the potions and teas anyway, because time was a luxury they did not have, with scores of warriors waiting for their ministrations. Perhaps ironically, the sculleries overflowed with wine and food, celebrations were underway in the court for the successful suppression of the uprising in Luteri.
At the end of one such gruelling day, Agatha found herself conversing with Kikoma Tai, one of the kitchen maids, as she wolfed down her first meal of the day with an indecency that would have shocked the well-bred ladies of the court.
"My son is doing well now," Kikoma responded to Agatha's question, considering her with nearly maternal pity as she licked her soup bowl clean. "Your potion worked very well, his fever broke the very next day. Let me get you more soup," she said, stretching her hand towards Agatha.
Agatha handed her the empty bowl and sighed in relief; she had been too afraid to ask for a second helping. As though reading her mind, Kikoma said, "do not dwell on it, Agatha. The amount of food that gets wasted in every feast makes me cry. No one will miss a measly bowl of pumpkin soup. Besides, you need it more than these fat nobles do."
"Shh," Agatha glanced around to see if they had been overheard, then broke into reluctant giggles. The scullery was nearly empty, most of the dishes had been taken to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Dusk was falling thick and fast outside their windows and Agatha could feel the exhaustion of the day catching up with her.
"So, I hear that the General has taken you for a bed slave?" Kikoma asked after Agatha had started on her second helping, then surged forward to pat her helpfully on the back when she choked on a bit of a pumpkin upon hearing this. Agatha wiped her lips with the back of her hand and said, "oh no, you are quite mistaken. He was asking about Lyla, and about Lord Mannering."
Agatha watched impassively as Kikoma's eyes lit up at this new morsel of information.
"Poor Lyla," she said without any real sympathy in her voice, then asked, "why did he want to know about Lyla?"
"I think he intended to make her his bed slave, but cannot, now that Lord Mannering has claimed her. He saw me paying her a visit last night at the brothel, so he must have thought that I would have more information on her," Agatha volunteered, cautiously watching from behind her stoneware as the beginning of a scandalous gossip seemed to form in Kikoma's excited countenance. Agatha felt quite remorseless about shifting the burden of the gossip to Lyla's shoulders, particularly after her ordeal a few nights before.
"Why were you paying Lyla a visit?" Kikoma asked, forever curious.
"She needed the barren potion," Agatha answered shortly before turning to her soup. However, her scant moment of reprise was not to be. Kikoma's son, Kabuta, came running up to them, out of breath and red in the face.
"Agatha! Meister Erwan needs you back at the infirmary at once," he panted.
Agatha stared longingly at the half empty bowl in her hand, then left the scullery as fast as her legs would carry her. She found a small gathering of soldiers in front of the infirmary. She pushed through them to find Meister Erwan kneeling on the ground beside a pale, unconscious young man.
"Agatha! Where have you been?" he snapped as soon as she edged inside the infirmary. "You know my knees are bad, here take this, make him smell the salt. I have to go and find some leeches."
"Who is he?" Agatha asked, kneeling down on the ground and taking the salt from the Meister.
"Sir Blaxton, you ignorant buffoon, now where are the leeches? A fine young man like him," the Meister wrung his hands, "cannot afford to have him turned."
Agatha started undressing the man cautiously. There was a pair of tiny indentations at the base of his neck. His pulse was too fast for an ordinary human. Agatha felt a familiar sinking sensation in her chest. She turned to the soldiers waiting in attention.
"Was he taken by a bloodsucker?" She enquired of them, seeking to verify Meister Erwan's ramblings. One of the men nodded nervously. Agatha threw Meister Erwan a beseeching glance. Leeches were the last thing he needed. She moved a hand to his neck to feel his pulse. It fluttered under her fingers like a butterfly, and if the venom was not removed from his bloodstream, within the night he would turn into one of the creatures that had bitten him.
"We will keep him asleep and feed him so that he gains his strength back. The leeches will suck the venom out from his bloodstream," Meister Erwarn said, "Agatha, move him near the fire. You lot, leave. If you are not sick, you are a hindrance."
One by one, the soldiers left the infirmary. Agatha moved the Lieutenant General close to the hearth and gazed imploringly at Meister Erwan. "I can heal him now, if you give me leave."
"No, we will not do that. Do you want to die, Agatha? We will leech him, give him broth and milk of poppy and he will make it though."
"He will not survive the leeching, Meister Erwan, not with the little amount of blood he has left," Agatha whispered, trying to reason with the orthodox physician. "No one will know," she gestured towards the rest of the ward, where most of the beds were occupied by unconscious or sleeping patients. "Please."
"Would you rather have him turned than dead?" Meister Erwan said angrily.
"I did not say that. I can remove the venom. Allow me, Meister Erwan."
