I Hear Dead People...

Hallway

The hallway is stark, bare of ornaments or carpets. Doorways lead into

different rooms and you notice one busier than the others this one leads

to the infirmary. To your left is an open archway leading into a waiting

alcove, a place to sit and wait, quiet and peaceful. A narrow set of stairs

lead up into the work area where herbs and medicines are prepared by the

various healers. Overall, the hallway is quiet except for healers moving in

and out of the doorways.

Real time is: Mon Dec 01 14:44:19 2008 - Rohan weather is: Stormy

Elendor time is: Dawn <06> on Sunday of July 29, 3045

The Moon is: new

[Bardawulf(#29188)] Summer is at its height, and with it have come the storms. The day started grey and lowering now heavy raindrops beat a sharp staccato against the door of the Healer\'s Hall. The morn is still young, but already the healers are up and at their work - or for some perhaps ending their work. Bardawulf limps slowly down the stairs from the work area, his features drawn and tired, and at the sound of falling rain he sighs. \"Could the storm have waited but one hour...\" he murmurs ruefully.

The door to the street nearly flies open, a gust of wind having pulled it out of the hand of the creature that now seeks to enter this hall, so that the door slams all the way open for a few brief seconds, wind driving the heavy rain into the hallway. And then it might seem, in fact, that a creature does enter the hall, pulling the door shut with a thud. Honeyed tendrils are wound about the creature\'s face, some sort of grey form does its body have and, apparently, it is a creature dragged out of the depths of the sea, for it drips what might be enough water to fill an ocean onto the floor where it stands. Wild eyes peer out from beneath the sopping tendrils about its face.

Then Heregyth coughs.

[Bardawulf(#29188)] At the sight of the new arrival, Bardawulf lets out a startled sound, before reflex takes over and he is moving toward the person, whoever they may be. He holds out his right hand. \"Come, rest. There is a fire to warm yourself by, and blankets aplenty. Dire must be the need that has driven you to seek the Healers on such a day ...\" he eyes the miserable looking figure, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, then adds, \"or did you merely seek shelter?\"

The young woman shakes her head, sending droplets of water scattering, but also clearing some of the blonde tendrils off her face--tentacles drying into storm-tossed hair. She mutely reaches for the man\'s hand, taking it, her own shaking. \"I heard my brother,\" Heregyth answers. \"I hear him calling me over and over in this storm.\"

[Bardawulf(#29188)] At those words, the healer peers closer at the young woman. \"I do not think that any voice could be heard over such a tumult.\" He does not remark on the trembling, but a tiny frown appears between his brows. \"You would be the warmer with dry clothes,\" he states simply, and starts guiding her toward the Infirmary proper. \"If you wish, I can seek something more .. ah, appropriate than blankets.\"

\"I can hear him, though,\" Heregyth insists, her eyes with a sort of distant glazed look to them. \"I hear him most nights, but with the storms, I hear him most clearly. I know where he is,\" she says, focusing her grey eyes now on Bardawulf. \"But my cousin says I must sleep and that I probably need a potion from the Healers to help me.\"

The young woman nods slowly, tugging the sopping blanket about her, the top of it slipping down to reveal that she wears only her nightgown. And when she steps forward, her feet are bare.

[Bardawulf(#29188)] Bardawulf\'s frown deepens as he leads Heregyth through the archway and into the Infirmary proper. It is quiet, with only a few patients occupying beds and these mostly at the far end of the room. His slow steps take him and his companion to the edge of the nearest cot, and he releases the young woman\'s hand so that he can draw the curtains about it to allow her a modicum of privacy. \"Who is your cousin?\" The words are soft and gentle, almost coaxing.

\"Gerta,\" Heregyth answers as the healer closes the curtain about her. The sopping blanket and then her nightgown fall to the floor as she changes into a dry gown. \"She can\'t hear Osgyth, you know. I\'m the only one who can. We were twins, and I can still hear him.\" The girl\'s head pokes out from between the curtains now and she looks at Bardawulf. \"I know you. And I\'ve met your daughter.\"

[Bardawulf(#29188)] \'Gerta\'. Bardawulf mouths the name as though committing it to memory. \"Your cousin is right, you do need a healer\'s draught.\" At Heregyth\'s identification, he nods. \"I am Bardawulf,\" he states simply. \"A healer, who will tend you as needed. You have met Inge?\" For one moment fleeting surprise shows on his features, then he shrugs. \"Ah, no matter. Tell me, what does Osgyth say?\"

\"Your horse likes her. But then, she fed him apples,\" Heregyth smiles pleasantly, as if she wasn\'t standing barefoot with her hair a knotted mess and her eyes glazed.

The storm, which had abated somewhat, now renews itself. Lightning races across the sky, and at the same time, a crack of thunder reverberates so loudly overhead that the girl jumps and then sets to shivering. \"He..he..speaks to me. He...I have to go to him. I know where he is, and I have to go to him or he won\'t stop calling. East along the road and then north to the river, but there\'s a small stream that diverges from the river and swirls into an eddy in the marshes. When the storm ends, I\'ll go...\" She takes a step forward, heedless of the healer in her path.

[Bardawulf(#29188)] There is privacy, and then there is care. Bardawulf has already set his staff aside now he pulls back the curtain and tries to push Heregyth gently back onto the bed. \"When the storm has ended, you will sleep,\" he tells her firmly, lifting his free hand to feel her forehead. The roaring storm overhead garners no more attention than would a single dust-mote falling.

It\'s easy enough to push Heregyth back onto the bed, the girl sitting down hastily on the edge. \"But...but he can\'t rest. We can\'t rest until I find him. How can he rest?\" she protests nonetheless. Although droplets of water still trickle down her forehead from her rain-soaked hair, her skin is both dry and hot with fever.

[Bardawulf(#29188)] \"And you cannot find anyone until you are healed,\" Bardawulf tells the girl. \"Will you stay here while I prepare a draught? For truly, hale or sick, you cannot leave this place while the storm rages. Not even a dog would walk abroad on such a morn as this.\" Reproach over, he frowns anew at the sight of her wet hair, but says no more while he awaits her reply.

\"Bardawulf,\" Heregyth repeats the name belatedly, then starts shivering. \"Would you ride with me? To find Osgyth? I know where he is,\" she answers, distracted. But something of the healer\'s tone of voice much reach reason, despite the fever, and she nods, slowly.

[Bardawulf(#29188)] \"When you are well,\" the healer puts heavy stress on that last word, \"I will ride with you if you wish.\" What price the ramblings of a fevered girl? Perhaps the words will soothe, at the least.

Then Heregyth shivers anew, and Bardawulf waits no longer for \'aye\' or \'nay\'. Stepping away - but keeping a watchful eye on this latest patient lest she bolt - he soon returns with clean towels and an extra blanket.

The latter is draped over the young woman\'s knees, while he reaches forward with a towel in an attempt to dry those rain-darkened locks.

Still shivering, Heregyth draws the blanket around her. \"You didn\'t answer,\" she says, coherent at least about this part. \"Didn\'t think I would be so cold in the summer, in rain. It\'s so cold..\" Her voice drifts off. \"And there\'s noone there. They couldn\'t find him....They looked, and they missed him.\"

[Bardawulf(#29188)] The healer continues to rub at the girl\'s wet hair, given he is not pushed away. \"I told you,\" he repeats firmly, \"that I will ride with you when you are well if you wish. I know not the one of whom you speak, but I do know that worry will not aid you now. Only rest will do that.\"

\"Osgyth is my twin,\" Heregyth answers stubbornly. She twists around to look at the healer, half the hair that he is working on drying slipping from the towel. \"They told me he fell last year, but I know better. I can still hear him. They just didn\'t know where to find him. It was around this time of year, too. The summmer, when the storms come. They were attacked coming home.\"

[Bardawulf(#29188)] For a moment, just one moment, the towel is still in Bardawulf\'s hands. \"Child,\" his voice is gentle, \"some things are better left undisturbed.\" The thunder is moving off now, its rumbling less insistent, but the healer\'s head jerks up this time as it had not previously, and his features are pale, his grey-green eyes distant and clouded.

\"Now,\" he says briskly, shaking out the towel, \"is that not better? Lie down and rest - you will be warmer beneath the coverlet - and I will fetch you a soothing draught to ease the aches.\"

\"Think I, yes think I will,\" Heregyth agrees, her shivering continuing. She draws the blankets on the bed back, slipping underneath and pulling the covers up to her chin. \"You\'ll ...tell my cousin where I am? Gerta,\" she says, though that is all the information she offers for now, the healer\'s distant look bringing a frown to her face. \"You hear him too? In the thunder? I can...\" the last is whispered, along with, \"he won\'t stop talking to me. Can you make it stop?\"

[Bardawulf(#29188)] \"I can make it stop,\" Bardawulf promises, focusing on Heregyth\'s final words. Stepping away from the young woman, he limps over to the workbench and begins mixing a draught: a pinch of this, a measure of that, a large spoonful of honey to sweeten the bitter brew. Hot water from the kettle is the final addition the brew is stirred, lifted, then cradled between the healer\'s hands as he makes his way carefully back. \"Here, drink,\" he urges.

The girl drinks, and likely there is something in it to make her sleep, but even so, the warmth of it seems to ease her fevered mind enough for her to sigh and offer the empty bowl back to the healer as she settles against the pillows, fighting to keep her eyes from closing. But this is a losing fight for Heregyth, and though she continues to speak anxiously but incoherently in her sleep, at least she does fall into a sleep, finally.

[Bardawulf(#29188)] The healer sighs and shakes his head as he looks on the slumbering girl. Then he steps away, and leans wearily against the narrow archway that separates infirmary from hallway. His quiet voice can be heard raised in query to one of the other healers, \"Know you of a Gerta?\" No doubt he will speak to her of Heregyth\'s fever-dreams, no doubt he will be told of their futility ...