Free Necromancer by Jonathan Green - (ebook by Undead) Page A

grace that also suggested
that when challenged she could be as immovable as a rock in her expectations and
attitudes. Dieter and Leopold had been sent to the temple with a letter of
introduction from Doktor Kalt, and arrived as the sisters were processing out of
matins.
    “Good morning, gentlemen, and how may I help you this
morning?” Sister Marilda asked. She patently knew they were from the guild and
why they were there. Leopold had visited the infirmary-temple before with his
master, Kalt. It was merely out of courtesy that she asked.
    “Good morning, sister,” Leopold answered confidently, giving
the priestess his most winning smile. Dieter stood behind him, trying not to
draw attention to himself. “We have been sent here by Doktor Kalt, from the
physicians’ guild.”
    An apprentice could expect to visit the infirmary of the
Temple of Shallya on a semi-regular basis, as part of his training, to help the
priestesses tend to the sick. It also provided the medical students with an
opportunity to try out new treatments on patients who, on the whole, had no
family left to care what happened to them if something went wrong and they did
not recover. So many of those in the care of the sisterhood of Shallya were in a
state of terminal decline that they had nothing to lose in acting as guinea pigs
for the apprentices to practise on, other than perhaps a few days or weeks of
miserable life.
    “Very good. You must thank Doktor Kalt when you return,” she
said matter-of-factly.
    “We have brought a new unguent, made from the flower of the
meadowflax, for the treatment of open sores and ulcers and to see if there is
any other way in which we can help.”
    “And your help is much appreciated. There are certainly those
who would be grateful for a salve to ease the pain of their afflictions. If you
would come this way.”
    Sister Marilda led the way across the infirmary, the two
students following.
    “But of course we must also continue to pray for the
absolution of their souls,” Marilda said as she walked, “for you know, of
course, that illness and disease are a physical manifestation of sin.”
    “Yes, sister, of course,” Leopold agreed, then glancing back
over his shoulder at his companion threw Dieter a theatrical wink.
    They spent the next two hours cleaning and dressing the
suppurating sores and raw flesh-eating ulcers of beggars, the elderly of the
town cast upon the Shallyan temple to be ministered to in their final days and
even an aging cleric from the temple of Bögenhafen’s patron—a thoroughly
unpleasant, foul-mouthed and unappreciative curmudgeon who showed not one ounce
of sanctity about his person.
    The smell of infection as they worked was appalling, and
Dieter was glad of the posy of strong-smelling herbs he carried now in his
pocket. Between patients he held the posy close to his nose and inhaled deeply
of its heady fragrance, so that it might at least in part mask the stench of
putrefaction.
    Throughout, Leopold talked to the patients about what he was
doing, his manner jovial, and in turn listened to them unburden their hearts
about the miseries that their lives had brought them. Dieter was secretly
impressed by the way his friend conducted himself and wished he could be more
like him. Leopold had obviously known what to expect from his previous visits,
but it was more than just that. He had a manner about him more like that of a
confessional priest than a doktor, from what Dieter had seen in his short time
at the guild.
    Sister Marilda approached Leopold and Dieter as they were
washing their hands in the bowl the priestesses had provided for them, as the
temple bell was chiming the hour of noon. Despite the stench of the work and the
repulsive sores they had seen, Dieter could still feel hunger knotting inside
his belly and was looking forward to sating his hunger at the Pestle and Mortar.
    “Are you gentlemen finished?” Marilda asked demurely.
    Leopold