by Celia Lake
Elen didn’t have the knowledge to make sense of all of what they did. She knew infantry and artillery, and she knew about the dragoons thanks to Roland. Naval units made sense, too. But she wasn’t sure what they meant by airborne units, or engineers. No one bothered to explain, and Roland apparently understood enough of it to be getting on with.
The presentation began by Roland stating what he’d been asked to do. That was to provide a precis of the potential of troops from Albion, fighting alongside the British non-magical ones, based on his experiences. He argued, and quite well, she thought, for the benefit of the magically skilled in carrying and conveying messages, in healing in certain circumstances.
He argued that each soldier’s life held value, but that those with magical training should be treated as skilled experts. Anyone who had come out of the Five Schools, certainly anyone who had completed their apprenticeship, had years of exceptional training behind them. He had a particular angle, there, that she’d never asked him about.
He had been speaking for about ten minutes, when an older man with a striking resemblance to Roland came in quietly. He settled without a word in a chair against the wall, like Elen’s but on the other end of the room. Roland visibly startled, but then gathered himself, promptly, continuing with almost no hesitation.
It gave Elen a chance to examine the newcomer. He was wearing several medals, and his uniform suggested a rank of major general, or perhaps lieutenant general. She couldn’t quite see the insignia fully from where she sat.
About then, the presentation shifted to questions, and Elen needed to pay much closer attention to Roland. She could hear his voice getting rough, and see the slight shake in his hand. She didn’t have the authority to stop any of this, but she could see a pitcher of water on the side table, and glasses.
As quietly as she could, she poured a glass, and brought it over. She waited to one side of Roland, until someone asked a question. When he took a breath, she slipped it in front of him. He nodded, briefly, but with a smile at her. “My attending nurse, Therapeutes Morris.” She hadn’t expected that, usually people wanted them to be invisible.
Eventually, the questions ran down, then there was a general round of thanks and formalities, while Roland smiled and nodded from his chair. He did stand once, to salute properly when his own direct line of command left. The room emptied quickly, except for the man in the corner, the aide who had made the initial arrangements, and Elen.
“Give us the room, please, Thorndike.” That was the man in the corner. Thorndike, the aide, blinked and made a quick retreat.
Once it was just the three of them, Roland said, “Father.” He sounded cautious, but not unfriendly. Clearly, he wasn’t at all sure what to expect.
“We have a few things to talk about. Perhaps Therapeutes Morris would prefer to take a short break?” It was entirely polite, and also surprisingly not a command. Something about his tone made it clear to Elen, never mind Roland, that his father was leaving the choice up to him.
“Please stay, Elen.” Roland’s voice was clear and strong. “If you’d come take a seat, here?” That too was a request, and not a command, but of course she would.
His father raised an eyebrow at the first name. When Elen took her seat, Roland nodded. “Elen, my father, Major-General Arthur Gospatrick.” Famous heroes, indeed, and he was named in part for his father. It figured. “Father, this is Therapeutes Elen Morris, my nurse.”
“The current nurse? I gather there have been a few.”
“Once and future.” Roland made it a bit of a joke. “She was reassigned elsewhere, and then assigned back to me. I’ve been improving rapidly since she’s been given more free rein in my treatment.”
“Ah. About that.” Arthur cleared his throat. “First, your mother has a few things for you, they are in my bag, if it is convenient to give them to you now. If it is not, if you would let me know where to send them. You haven’t answered our letters, so we weren’t sure, and Admantine made it clear she thought very little of your hope for recovery. But then Captain Deschamps mentioned he’d seen you, so it wasn’t that you couldn’t get in touch.”
Roland’s expression went through several rapid changes, then settled on a sort of burning need Elen had never seen from him before. “I have not received any of your letters, sir.” The last was clearly a comfortable formality they were both used to, rather than a method of distancing. “Nor any package, other than one Treeve sent recently. And I suspect his aide brought that round in person.”
Arthur nodded sharply. “Indeed.” Elen could see he seemed to be calculating several rows of figures that boded very poorly. “Who are we aiming your mother at then, do you know?”
That broke the tension, and Roland laughed. “That is a good question, though we have recently worked out some pieces of it.” He hesitated. “We should not discuss that here.”
“No. I need to be back at my office at six, a working supper. Do you have a suggestion?”
“We have rooms at the inn near here. I suspect the tea is the best of their service, honestly. Fake Tudor, metal steins in odd places, and too many flowers on the tea sets, I rather suspect, but otherwise quite reasonable standard from what I’ve seen so far.”
His father nodded, then he took a breath, looking at the canes beside Roland’s chair. “How much support do you need, son? Or may I,” He hesitated exactly the same way Roland just had. “Therapeutes Morris, if I might ask your professional opinion?”
Elen inclined her head, sharing the briefest of glances with Roland. “That might be better in private as well, sir.” She didn’t know if it was proper to encourage him to call her Elen. Or even Nurse Morris, in the less formal language.
“Like that, then. Shall I go on ahead and arrange tea to go up to your room?”
Roland nodded slowly. “That might be easier. We won’t be long. Elen, if you could get Harry from wherever he’s lurking?” He added to his father, “The orderly with us. We’re to go back tomorrow morning.”
It took a few minutes to sort out getting themselves out the door and down the street. Elen took the chance to ask quietly, “What should I know?”
“Behave as you see fit, it will be good for him. And you, I suspect.” That was teasing, but not out of bounds for Harry to overhear. He then added, over his shoulder. “Harry, we’ll be having tea with my father, and I’m sure Nurse Morris can arrange for sandwiches or whatever for supper. If you’d like to go out for a drink we can manage once I’m back in my room, I think.”
Harry mumbled a “Sir,” and kept on with the pushing.
Chapter 36
Later that afternoon
“So, the agenda. Who we are aiming your mother at, and Therapeutes Morris’s professional evaluation of your recuperation. Perhaps we might take the latter first.”
They were settled around the small table in Roland’s room, with a tiered cake stand to one side. Elen sat with her hands in her lap, except when she was sipping her tea and Roland suspected she desperately wanted her knitting. He understood the instinct now, but his father wouldn’t.
“Elen?” He kept his voice even, deliberately using the informal. He added, “And use whatever name you’d prefer for me.”
“Nurse Morris, if you’d rather.” Roland’s father inclined his head. Elen went on. “I served at a field hospital in France, where I was injured in a building collapse, with lingering headaches that prevented my staying there. I came back to the Temple of Healing to seek an assignment where I might be useful.”
She swallowed, then went on. “My background is in long-term care, for those recovering from significant lengthy illness. From the beginning, there were oddities about my assignment to Roland’s case. I was not permitted to see his file, nor to recommend any changes to his potions regimen. Normally, I would have coordinated with his attending Healer, regular meetings.”
Arthur nodded slowly. Roland knew that expression, the way he was listening intently, to what Elen said and what she did n
ot say. He was pleased she’d chosen to use his first name. His father would pick up on that, certainly, but it was strategically useful to have it become clear now, when his father and mother would be inclined towards anyone who had been of actual help to him. “And what were you permitted?”
“Initially, to sit with him, see he had his meals and to take him out to the garden, in a chair. I got him walking short distances again, but I believe being outside is often as restorative as anything else.”
She considered, and Roland could see she was thinking through how to present what had happened. “After a month, I was called in to make a report to a Sister Florinda, one of the administrators. A step down from the Archiater. She could not get me access to his file, but she did tell me who the attending healer was, and gave me permission to taper the potion I felt was causing the most difficulty.”
Roland cleared his throat. “Sir, we have since discovered that potion - the evening one - is a mixture of low-cost sedatives, and not what we believe it should contain. Treeve had it analysed just a few days ago, and a friend of Elen’s, a full apothecary. We were trying to decide what to do about that information.”
“And you could not know that I had arranged to get you away from Trellech for a day.” His father sat back, looking briefly gleeful.
Roland couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping, he knew his father would crow about that for years, to the right audiences. “Sir.” It was an admission of brilliance.
“I didn’t know - we didn’t know - if you did not wish to speak to us, if you were unable to reply, if you were being prevented from doing so, if you were not getting our messages. The last, as you said, but the others, I do not know about. Only then Captain Deschamps made a point of letting me know he’d met with you, twice. If you did not wish to speak to us, I wanted to hear it directly.”
Roland let out a long breath, glancing at Elen for a moment. “You were afraid I didn’t wish to speak with you, sir? You and Mother?”
His father nodded, just once, precisely. He said, for Elen’s benefit. “I am the commander in charge of the magical troops serving with His Majesty’s armies. My rank is complicated, but considered equivalent to a Major-General. I have seen a number of men sent home who were ashamed of their injuries. Or injured in ways that damaged their magic.” He let his voice trail off. Of course he wasn’t able to ask directly.
Roland coughed once. “Elen, feel free to explain?”
“Sir.” Her voice had gotten softer, as if she had fought this particular skirmish before, had a plan, and knew exactly what to do with it. “Your fears are quite common, after a significant injury, especially when you had so little information about what was going on.”
She shifted in her chair, to face his father more directly. “We’ve only been able to discontinue the evening potion in the last week, but the signs so far are promising. Roland was able to call heat - a skill he said you trained him in thoroughly - as well as light.”
Roland could see his father relax, as Elen went on. “I believe the potion was interfering with his magic, there’s a fair bit of evidence for it. I anticipate he will be fully returned to strength in a few months, though whether he is best sent back into battle may be a different question. I have complete notes if that would be helpful, during my time with him.”
That got a laugh out of his father, despite the seriousness of the situation. “Are you that diligent with all your patients then? Or my son in particular?” Roland noticed, but was not surprised, that his father did not comment on the other part of that, whether Roland might be declared fit again. Or what for.
Roland though some encouragement might be a help here. “Speak freely, Elen, if you’re concerned on my account. You know my feelings on the matter.”
Elen gathered herself, visibly. “All my patients get my best, sir, of course, but your son and I have discovered a mutual interest beyond that role that we have discussed exploring when he is no longer under my care.” The sentence might have come out all prim and tight, but there was a slight bobble of her voice in the middle. Roland reached out his hand instinctively, and she took it, then looked up at his father.
“Who are your people, then?” His father was at least not angry. “I know there is a fair bit that goes into nursing training. You were at Alethorpe?”
Roland knew perfectly well that as soon as his father had five minutes, he would be getting his hands on Elen’s complete files, to the extent he could. Elen clearly knew it too. “Alethorpe, yes, sir, then an apprenticeship in the Temple. My father is administrator at the Dolaucothi mines, sir, and my mother was a teacher at the village school. Not fancy people, sir, Fourth Families, but proud of their work.”
“And proud of you?” His father said it easily, then must have read something in her expression, because he leaned forward, looking more closely. “No. Not sure what to make of you, I expect. I know enough of the Temple to know you must be quite skilled. They don’t generally suffer fools, especially not among the nursing staff.” He nodded at Roland. “Do you have theories about the reason for your ineffective potion, beyond the fact of it?”
“We were working on that, sir, when I had to come here. My attending healer was one Ozymandias Cole. Mind, I’ve only seen him once, I’m aware of. When he sent Elen away, and lectured and prodded me. He dresses suspiciously well.”
Elen added, “I only saw him at my reinstatement. It was set up by another senior healer, Healer Rhoe. I am not sure her precise formal title, but she oversees the baths, including the ritual baths.” She nodded at Roland. “Roland had one he found helpful and restorative.”
“Your particular devotion, Nurse Morris?”
She considered for a moment. “If you would prefer to call me Elen in private, sir, considering everything.” Roland squeezed her hand and smiled his approval, and she continued. “Sirona, sir. She has a particular affinity for the longer processes of healing and restoration.”
“And what would you prefer as an assignment? Where were you before the War?”
“Before the War, I was at The Temple of Youth. I enjoyed it, it was often very satisfying work. But I’m not sure I want to go back to it, I would rather be taking on a new challenge.”
“And your injury, is that still a consideration?”
Elen waited before answering, weighing her answer. “My duties tending to Roland have been very slow paced, and not demanding of stamina, other than long hours. Having a single patient, not having to split my attention, orderlies for the heavy work, plenty of time to sit and read or knit and talk.”
She hesitated, and Roland thought this was because she hadn’t discussed this with anyone, yet. “I have had a few bad headaches, but not many, and they seem to be improving. I am due for another discussion with the healer in charge of my case next month, but I think the recommendation will be that I not return to the front, or to any battle hospital, but instead find a permanent position elsewhere.”
“At the Temple in Trellech or something else?” His father was leaning forward now, tapping his fingers. Roland recognised the sort of plotting that would amuse his mother.
“The Temple of Healing comes with rather a lot of politics, sir, and I am not sure I have handled them well.” That sort of frank admission, on the other hand, was exactly the sort of thing that would endear her to both Roland’s mother and his father. They both appreciated someone who knew their skills and their lacks.
“We will see if we can improve some of that. I know of Healer Rhoe by reputation, she is no small ally to have. And now that we may more conveniently talk to Roland, we will be glad to assist to the greatest degree he permits.”
Roland raised an eyebrow. “I’m scarcely going to decline, sir.”
His father laughed. “One should give you the opportunity to, but I am glad that you are not inclined to have a tantrum about doing it yourself. Not that you ever did too much of that when you were two or three.”
Roland replied, just as amused. “Mother would have none o
f it. Nor Nanny.” He added to Elen, “Nanny is a cousin of Mother’s from a not very well off line of the family. She still lives there, keeping an eye on things when Mother is away, as she often is.” Then he gestured. “You’ll need to get back to the portal soon, sir. What else do you need to know now?”
“We have a curious set of behaviours from a senior healer. We have a potion that uses largely cheap ingredients, and they have been requesting a supplement for your care that would suggest, oh, at least three nurses and regular hampers from Lleision and Dyfodwg to cover your meals.” That being one of the best fancy hampers in Trellech. “Plus, perhaps, some gold in the daily potions.”
Roland winced. “My pardon, sir.”
Elen opened her mouth and then closed it. Roland’s father raised his eyebrows. “Out with it, we need all the ideas we can get.”
“Sir.” Elen gathered her thoughts. “I overheard a conversation weeks ago, out in the garden. Two women who handled the forms and paperwork. I didn’t hear their last names, but one was Berth, from south Wales, originally, and her friend was Clarice. They were talking about oddities in the paperwork, and they mentioned Healer Cole among others. They didn’t have anything concrete they could report, and I think that frustrated them. I mentioned it to Sister Pomona, one of the senior nurses. She couldn’t help me much directly, but she might know who else to talk to.”
“Ah, now, that should be most useful. What is the best way to get word to you, then, that is reliable? Treeve, or someone else?”
Roland deferred to Elen. “You know the Temple best, though I don’t know where the messages were being blocked.”
Elen considered. “If you send it to my friend, Mistress Amet Salah. She apprenticed under Master Luther, if you’re familiar with his shop?”
“I do know him, though mostly by reputation. That will do quite well, if you would be so kind as to let her know we will be in touch, likely promptly and frequently, until this is resolved.” He then stood. “Roland’s mother will be interested to meet you, we will see about arranging some sort of suitably neutral territory. She can be a touch intimidating, even with people she likes. I do hope Roland has mentioned.”