Healer's Song Ch. 01

Men are the root of all things evil. They are by nature, aggressive and warlike, and they try to dominate each other. The peaceful, idyllic existence they enjoyed on the island was only made possible by the near extinction of the male part of their population. Once the women were in charge, working together instead of fighting each other, of course there was plenty to go around. Women are by nature, caring, nurturing, and peaceful, governed by their mother's instinct and their desire for harmony.

At least, that's what Lisanne had been taught all her life. Now, she was really starting to wonder. She'd been on this boat for nearly a month, and during that time, was abused both verbally and physically, at every chance. She'd given up on asking any questions, since they always got her either slapped or kicked. Every crew member seemed to hate her with a fervor she'd never before seen. And every single one of them was female.

She was at least allowed free reign of the ship, she supposed since she wasn't any threat to any of them, and it gave them reason to give her a share of the work. Since she wasn't very strong, and her cooking skills were for the most part limited to infusions, tinctures, and medicinal teas, that meant swabbing the deck and cleaning everyone's quarters. She didn't really mind the work that much; oft-times, in fact, she had to stop herself from humming. She'd discovered that really made them mad. Or scared. Both mad and scared seemed to elicit the same actions from any of them, so she was never sure which it was.

Today, though, everyone had left her completely alone. It was making her wonder. She even tested one of them, humming loudly as the woman approached her. She almost forgot to keep humming when the woman just stared nervously at her and walked around her, giving her a wide berth. She decided to try pushing her luck just a bit further.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Everyone seems too preoccupied to kick me around."

The woman stopped walking and stood there for a second, seemingly trying to decide whether their captive really had a sense of humor. She apparently decided not.

"Shut up, witch, I won't have you spelling me!" She took off down a ladder and vanished from Lisanne's sight quickly.

Suddenly, Lisanne figured it out. They didn't particularly hate her, at least not most of them. They were scared of her. They didn't realize that her powers were completely ineffective on women. She started to laugh. Someone coming up the ladder saw her laughing and headed right back down, which made her laugh more. She realized every bit of abuse she'd suffered over the past three weeks was an attempt to shut her up. Well, that settled it. From now on, she certainly would not shut up, at least not until one of these crazy women decided to answer her questions.

She didn't waste any time. She picked up her sponge and bucket and set off down the ladder herself. She paused at the captains door, intrigued at the sounds coming from within. A racking cough. A concerned question. An attempt to answer, between coughs. She leaned her ear toward the door to listen. It opened and she almost fell into the room.

"Casting spells on our captain, witch?" Before she could think or say anything, she was pinned to the wall by her throat.

"I'm a healer," she croaked.

The expression on the face of her current captor didn't change, but the captain, voice raspy from coughing, said "Let her speak."

"I'm a healer," she said again, massaging her throat. "I can help you if you'd let me."

The other woman looked ready to shout something obsene, but the captain held up a hand for silence. "Why should I trust you?"

"Judging from your color and your cough I'd say you were stung by the thorn of a poisonflower. Red flower, orange center with sprawling deep green vines and sharp thorns."

A stricken look confirmed that she had, indeed noticed a plant of that description. "But how do I know you are telling me the truth? How do I know you will not poison me?"

"The tip of that thorn is still imbedded in your skin. Unless I get it out, it will continue to imbed itself deeper and deeper. You will die."

"I don't have much choice, do I. No, Daina." She again stopped the other woman from speaking. "I believe her. Please help her. Do whatever she feels necessary."

With a huff and a look that Lisanne had no desire to interpret, Daina followed her down to the bowels of the ship. Lisanne thought, not for the first time, of how thankful she was that they had let her take her healers bag. Or, to put it more accurately, didn't bother to stop her from taking her healers bag. Besides the obvious fact that the herbs inside could save lives, she felt more reassured of her own identity, her own worth with the bag at her side. She may be torn from her home, but she was still a healer, and she could help people in the land where she was headed as easily as back on Insula.

She grabbed the bag and instructed Daina to get a pot of water boiling. Back in the captain's quarters, she sorted through leather pouches of miscellaneous size and color until she found the one she was looking for. Bark of the black willow was one of many substances that was poison if too much was used, so she carefully chose a few pieces and added them to the steaming water Daina brought in. A few more herbs and five minutes to steep and the tea was ready.

"These herbs will temporarily disable the thorn so I can dig it out. They are extremely bitter and foul tasting, but I can't add honey or syrup for fear of dampening their effect."

The captain nodded and drank the noxious brew. Within a couple of minutes she broke out in a cold sweat and her skin turned sickly yellow.

"I am going to dig out the thorn now. Daina, I need you to hold her."

Daina, still eyeing her distrustfully, did as she bid. Lisanne took a long thin knife she had sterilized earlier and plunged it into the red and purple sore on the captain's arm. The woman jerked wildly, but Daina managed to hold her still. Working quickly as she had been taught, Lisanne tilted the knife to see down the incision she had created and used a second knife to trap the thorn in between. She pulled both knives out and deposited the now struggling thorn in a jar. The injured arm she wrapped, adding a poultice to quickly heal the wound she'd created. Then she picked up the jar and held it before Daina and the captain.

"Here's the culprit," she announced. The thorn wiggled its way around the bottom of the jar, seemingly searching for more skin to bury itself in. Lisanne let them look on in amazement for a moment then tipped the contents of the jar into the fire.

"Sorry about the hole in your arm, Captain. It wouldn't have been quite that deep if I'd gotten to it earlier."

"That's nothing. Unless I'm mistaken, you've just saved my life. Call me Alex."

And Lisanne received her first smile in nearly a month. She smiled back. "Here drink this. It will put you to sleep. You need it, and those herbs I gave you earlier will give you one hell of a headache."