Of Dreams and Rust - Sarah Fine Page 0,61
then,” I mumble with a full mouth, covering it with my palm until I swallow. “If we are going to battle with war machines, there will most certainly be injuries. I have assisted my father for over a year and have seen all manner of wounds. I can help.”
She gives me a pitying look. “And you have likely had the benefit of equipment and medicine far more sophisticated than we have here. Cuz, if our men are shot, we carry them home and give them enough heavy drink to ease their pain as they die.”
My stomach knots as I hear the resignation in her tone. “We can do more than that.”
She lays her palm on my cheek. “You are welcome to try. Come, I will introduce you to Aysun.”
I polish off my bread as she pulls a patterned red head scarf over her rust-colored braid. I follow her through the scattering of cottages closest to the cliff that leads up to the plateaus above the village. Anni claps her hands before entering the cottage, which I can only assume is the equivalent of knocking. A skinny woman with sharp brown eyes peers out, and those eyes narrow as they land on me. She’s the one who shoved me yesterday before Melik claimed me as his bride. Anni converses with her in Noor as I take in the woman’s appearance—a blue head scarf that covers a thin white braid, sallow skin that suggests a liver ailment, and large, knobby knuckles that tell me she must be racked with joint pain.
Aysun the healer lets out a bark of laughter as Anni puts her hand on my shoulder and gestures at me. She shakes her head and waves her gnarled, veined hands like she’s trying to ward me off. Anni gives me an apologetic look. “She says she will not accept your help.”
“Then I will work on my own,” I say loudly, knowing I am being shamefully bold. There is too much at stake to worry about it. “Anni, I need cloth, a very sharp knife, and a curved needle and thread. I also need to look at what herbs you have. Please.”
Anni hesitates. “What are you planning to do?”
“I’m going to travel with the fighters, and I’m going to treat them on the field,” I say, tightening my muscles to keep from shaking. “I’m going to save as many lives as I can.”
She blinks at me, as if surprised to hear such big statements coming out of my little body. “Cuz, Melik will not be happy to have you so close to the danger.”
I stand as tall as I can and lift my chin. “Melik knows what I can do.”
Her mouth softens into a motherly smile. “Very well. How can I help?”
“Please ask Aysun if she has san qi root.” I describe the plant, and after Anni spends several long moments arguing with the healer, the older woman disappears into her cottage and emerges with the homely, bumpy dried root. I hold my hands out and she drops it into my cupped palms with a muttered “kuchuksivengi.”
With Anni as my translator, I gather a small collection of healing herbs from the snarling medicine woman, then return to Anni’s cottage and sit in front of the fire with a mortar and pestle, grinding mixtures that slow bleeding and ease pain. I create cloth packets for each, tied with strings of various colors. Despite her refusal to work with me, Aysun repeatedly pokes her head into the cottage to see what I’m doing. I don’t miss her nod of approval as I pack a precious jar of honey to disinfect wounds. Anni brings me a metal needle, and though it is straight instead of curved, it is thin and will suit. She offers me what I suspect is her finest thread and helps me cut a bolt of unbleached cloth into strips to use as tourniquets and bandages. After I sort and fold them, I wander the ditches by the road and the edge of the village, plucking sticks to be used as splints. Throughout the morning I am so focused that I don’t have time to feel the sting of Melik’s absence or to worry about Bo.
Once my medical kit is assembled, I pack it all into an old satchel Anni provides, along with a loaf of flatbread, a canteen, and a sleeping blanket. I sling it onto my back. It is not too heavy to carry. I am strong enough. I think.
Anni