Dirtnap - The Black Death Pt. 06

As he entered the cottage he found Johnny seated with his journal open on the table.

"Doing a little reading?"

Johnny gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged.

"Not so's you'd say. Thought there might be some sketches. Never was much for reading. Anyway, this in 'ere don't look like any words I ever seen writ."

"Indeed." Felix unburdened himself, pressing the clothes into Johnny's arms. "It's in Greek. Here, try these on for size. In the side room, for modesty's sake."

"Cor, you know Greek?"

"I have been a student of language, in addition to medicine. Do you know what occupies Mrs. Weissberger?" he asked, noticing the bedroom door was closed.

"Putting on her cleaning apron, she said. Place needs a proper dusting." He shrugged again, "She said."

"Fine. If the clothes are overlarge I can put a stitch in this evening."

He gathered some things and tucked them back into his doctor's bag.

"I'm off. Do remem-"

He opened the door and stopped abruptly, almost colliding with a young woman holding a basket. There were three young women, in fact. Well, young by his reckoning, at any rate. He looked from one to the next. They were completely corralling the doorway.

"Good evening?" he ventured, settling back on his heels.

"Mister Felix?"

That was the one in the middle. Shorter than the two flanking her, and a bit more homely, with long blond hair left down. There was a directness in her manner and tone which suggested she was perhaps older and more confident than the other two.

"Yes. I-" he stopped and turned his head.

Johnny had leaned in next to him to see who was at the door.

"Mr. Fishburn." Felix affected a menacing tone. "You take those clean clothes into the room and get out of those soiled ones. Good man. Hurry up."

Johnny cleared his throat, which sounded painful.

"Right." he ducked his head and did as he was bid.

"Forgive me. I would invite you in," he addressed the blond, "But as you can see, I have a patient in at present."

And I would rather not find out if any of you can see the lady of the house, he added to himself. He stepped slowly out onto the stoop and pulled the door closed behind him.

"Poor devil." murmured the girl on the left, who was taller and wore her reddish-brown hair up under a kerchief.

"I did not expect word to spread so quickly, but if one of you is in need of a doctor..."

"No, mister, uh, Doctor... It's not like that. We were told to ask after you. By Dick, the ratcatcher."

A particular look crossed the faces of all three, as if they had just smelled something foul.

"This is Robin," she indicated the taller redhead, "And Beth." The girl on the right was middling height of the three, with dark hair tied back with strips of plain linen. "I'm Margaret."

"I am Felix. If that's too familiar, you may call me Doctor Lupino. What is it our friend the ratcatcher wished to tell me."

"He told us to ask you about leeches."

This caused him a moment's pause.

"Oh. I'm afraid I don't actually have any leeches at present. What was it you-"

"No, no." Margaret pulled a corner of the burlap sheet covering the contents of her basket, revealing cut rushes and a gourd the size of her head. "We were cutting rushes out t'the marsh, see. And the little buggers swim up to our legs."

She pulled the cut top from the gourd to reveal a mass of little black bodies squirming in an inch of marsh water.

"We sells 'em to the barber-surgeons and doctors and sometimes the church infirmaries."

"Ah. And are sales not going well?"

"Well," Margaret shifted her basket to one hip and gestured around, "You know as well as anyone, Mister Doctor. There are less people to be leeched every day, but just as many leeches as ever. And we aren't the only one's selling. Market's become saturated, you might say."

"I see."

"So Dick, bless him, told us about the new doctor in town, and gave us directions. He's a kind soul, under it all."

"Ah. And uh, how many have you... young ladies... got?"

The three conferred briefly.

"An even score in all." Margaret supplied.

Not wanting to be rude, but hoping to get over to Rubbery Hall sometime before noon, Felix began digging in a pouch.

"Very good. Shall I give you... thruppence each?"

Whereas the two younger women were happy enough with this, Margaret was taken with a sudden hunch.

"Pardon, Doctor," she said slowly, "but do you mean three pence for each leech?"

The redhead, Robin, gasped audibly. Beth turned her head to gape in disbelief.

"Hm? Uh, yes?"

"Are you having a laugh?" Margaret's voice was stern.

Felix looked up from the coins in his hands.

"I'm sorry?"

It occurred to him that his offer had been generous, but it seemed he had underestimated just how generous.

"Look, Mister Doctor, we get ha'penny each from the barber surgeons, and less from nuns and priests. So what is it? Are you having a laugh, or are you the wealthiest and most out of touch doctor in England?"

"Ah," Felix flashed a curdled smile, "forgive me. I'm a bit distracted just now. What do you think would be... reasonable?"

Margaret's brow rose.

"Penny-a-piece, if you truly can afford that. And we'll say nothing to nobody about it. Isn't that so, girls?"

The other two blinked, then hurriedly agreed.

"Anyway, we don't want others hurrying here to sell you their leeches, do we?"

"Indeed."

Felix shifted a couple Italian Lirre to fish out more pennies. He handed the lot over to Margaret, who divvied out shares. Having no suitable containers, he chose to take the creatures along with the hollowed out gourds in which the girls carried them. He decided to have Johnny put them near his pickling meal plan, but when he turned and pushed on the door, it traveled an inch before meeting resistance. There was a thud and a mumbled curse, then Johnny opened the door enough to peek out.

"Ah. Minding the door, Mister Fishburn?"

"Just happened to be..."

"Indeed." Felix accepted the gourds from the women and handed them over to Johnny, "Put these near your food and see that they are out of the way. And leave the tops on." He put a certain emphasis on 'your food.'

When Felix turned back, closing the door again, the women had already begun moving out along the street. The eldest and unofficial spokeswoman of the group, Margaret, lingered.

"If there's aught else in the wood or marshes you have a use for," she said, "tell me next time we stop by."

"I shall think about it." he promised her before taking up his bag again and going around to the alley, bound for Rubbery Hall.

The same supremely indifferent guard Felix had met last time answered the door. Felix spared him a nod before moving quickly along. He headed first for the kitchen, keeping a wary eye and ear out in case Rollo should happen to be coming round a corner. First he passed a young porter boy.

The lad might have been thirteen, maybe. Having seen so many others age in his time, Felix saw that he would be handsome in a few years, when he grew into himself. Assuming, of course, that he lived that long.

Taking in Felix's bag, dress, and business-like demeanor, the boy moved to one side, nodded respectfully, and trotted by in the other direction.

"Carry on." Felix said evenly, meanwhile taking his own advice.

As he neared the steamy domain of the kitchen, his luck in not running into Rollo was explained. Felix heard his voice before entering the kitchen.

"...And she said, 'my eyes is only crossed if you look at 'em. Here, 'ave a look at these.'"

There came a half hearted chuckle, presumably from the cook.

"So I looks a bit less up, and behold, she's got a pair of big, gorgeous, full-" Rollo broke off as Felix entered the room.

"Sixpence, Cook." Felix nodded, "Would you happen to have any cider about the place?" he asked.

"Aye, give us a moment, m'lord." the cook ran a hand up one fat, stubbled cheek. "Ye want I should mull it for ye?"

"No need. Cold is good. Rollo... Spare me a piece of that loaf you're holding?"

That loaf that you're cupping in both hands rather suggestively, he didn't add.

"Oh, er, right." the dwarf tore a portion from one end of the loaf and handed it over.

"Many thanks. You were saying?" He asked, moving to apply the bread to a capon spitted over one of the low, open fireplaces, sopping up rendered fat.

Rollo blinked, then remembered.

"Oh. Toasting mugs. Must have held a pint a'piece. Glorious, they were."

Felix stopped with the bread halfway to his mouth. The cook, returning with a tall wooden cup of cider, met his gaze. The man gave him a knowing look and a faint shrug. It seemed this was not his first time hearing the story. Accepting the cup, Felix nodded to the two and excused himself, promising to return the cup later.

Secure in the knowledge that Rollo would almost certainly not be coming the other way, he strode through the halls on his way to the infirmary section. He wolfed down the greasy bread and washed it down with the cider, which he found quite refreshing.

Fox Rubbery was there outside the sick ward, washing his hands in the font of spirits, when Felix arrived.

"Doctor Lupino."

"Young Lord Rubbery. Have you seen the patients already?"

"No. I had thought to wait, but then I was beginning to think you weren't coming today."

"I suppose I am running late. Busy morning." Felix set the cup down along the wall and moved to join Fox at the font.

"Oh yes? Nothing bad I hope." The young man replied, adding; "Or no worse than the obvious, I mean."

"No. Not especially. I had to tend to a private patient. Then I was waylaid by three young women."

Fox stopped in the act of shaking his hands dry to look at the doctor.

"How's that?"

Preoccupied with thoughts of the work ahead, Felix raised a blank expression.

"Oh." he said after a moment. "They wanted to sell me some medicinal items. Nothing... untoward."

"Oh." Fox gave a sigh of relief. "Right. Well, uh, Miss Myra's already been through with food and drink for those that will take it."

"Excellent. Let us see what good we can do." Felix held the curtain, then followed the young Rubbery through.