Page 82 of The Outlaw Viking

Rain and Selik moved quickly ahead of him into the hospitium before Father Bernard changed his mind. Rain’s eyes devoured every detail of the large hall, which contained more than twenty pallets lined up on both sides of the drafty floor. Culdees in their long, flowing cassocks knelt at the sides of the patients, most often engaged in bloodletting. Rain had seen pictures in medical texts of the procedure involving leeches or bleeding cups placed on the patients, but still she was unprepared for the gruesome sight.

Each of the culdees had two pottery bowls—one for the ‘unfed’ bloodsucking worms and another for the bloated, blood-engorged parasites. The primitive healers applied the leeches to practically all the patients, regardless of the type of illness or injury, to treat everything from broken bones to stroke.

Rain felt Selik’s fingers dig into her upper arm in warning. She tried to shrug him off, but he pretended not to notice.

One by one, the accommodating Father Bernard walked with them by the pallets, explaining the condition of the patients, often introducing them to the culdees who worked tirelessly with the sick. Aside from the bloodletting, Rain could not really criticize the healers, who did the best they could with the primitive materials available to them. After all, the one patient suffering from a stomach tumor could only be kept calm and sedated without the healing effects of modern drugs and medical procedures.

Now the heart attack victim, on the other hand…she wondered if they ever used the digitalis plant.

Near the end of the line of pallets, however, Rain couldn’t keep her opinions to herself. She sank to her knees next to a culdee who was removing blood-swollen leeches from the wheezing chest of a young girl, about twelve years old, who moaned deliriously from her weakened condition. The rancid smell emanating from the emaciated body was too familiar to Rain to ignore.

“Do you know what’s wrong with her?” she whispered to the elderly priest, whom Father Bernard introduced as Father Rupert from the Rhineland. He was wiping the blood off the girl’s sunken chest with a damp cloth.

The priest shook his tonsured head. “I have ne’er seen such a malady afore. No matter what I try—herbs, bleeding—naught works.”

“The stench, Father—is it always so strong? And are her stools white in color and containing large amounts of fat? Does she continue to lose weight even though you feed her large amounts of food?”

The old man’s bleary eyes widened in surprise. “Yea, have you seen other cases such as this?”

“Actually, yes. My niece was recently diagnosed with Celiac disease, and this looks remarkably similar.”

“See-lee-ack?”

“Yes, the body develops an allergy—an inability to digest any grains.”

“Truly? And what did you do for her?”

“Well, I wasn’t her doctor, but I’ve been told that she can now lead a normal life, as long as she never eats or drinks anything made from grains.”

He looked at her skeptically, no doubt leery of such a simple cure.

“Try it, Father. What would it hurt? For a few days, don’t let her eat any bread or drink any beverage made from grains, like ale. If it is Celiac, you will begin to see a change almost immediately.”

The old man tilted his head thoughtfully. “’Tis worth trying, I suppose.” He called out his orders to a nearby servant that the patient’s diet be changed immediately, then turned back to Rain. “What did you say your name was?”

“Brother Godwine,” she answered, then looked up to see Selik watching her intently. His eyes glittered brightly with surprise and what almost seemed like pride in her diagnosis of the young girl.

“Will you be able to help her?” Selik asked as he helped her to her feet.

“I think so, but—” She stopped and addressed Father Bernard. “Could I come back another day and work with the patients? I think I could be of help, and of course, I could learn much from you and the other healers. For my medical manual.” She added the last with a rueful glance at Selik.

“’Tis Father Theodric’s decision, but he is always complaining about the lack of good healers.” Father Bernard looked at her oddly then. “Your voice is very high…and melodious.”

Rain cringed, realizing that she’d forgotten to lower her voice.

Then his eyes riveted on Selik’s hand, which still grasped her arm. As if suddenly understanding the relationship between them, Father Bernard licked his chapped lips, inquiring of Selik, “Wouldst thou be accompanying Brother Godwine if he is permitted to work in the hospitium?”

Selik shook his head slowly from side to side, a decidedly feral look hazing his gray eyes.

Father Bernard giggled nervously and darted a look of appreciative appraisal at Rain’s face and form. “Now that I think on it, ’tis certain Father Theodric will welcome your…services. We can always use another good…culdee, especially if I recommend you to the good father.”

Suddenly understanding, Rain’s mouth dropped open. Oh, Good Lord! A gay priest in the Middle Ages. And he’s got his radar set on me.

After that, Father Bernard gave them a quick tour through the garden herbarium, where medicinal plants were grown, and the primitive “apothecary” where another tonsured cleric worked with a pestle and pottery bowls mixing healing potions according to ancient receipts listed in a dusty ledger. Fascinated, Rain decided that she definitely wanted to return to the hospitium and learn all she could about this primitive medical facility.

“When you come back, be certain to identify yourself to the priest on duty. Father Ceowulf often takes my place. We cannot be too cautious. Saxon soldiers have been about all day, searching for some outlaw Viking.”

Rain’s blood went cold at Father Bernard’s words. Could it be Selik they were searching for? Were they nearby?