"My son and I were out hunting 2 days ago when he got into a terrible accident and hurt his leg," The burly man tried his best to explain as led Barda to his house. "After old Marie died, I did not know who else to turn to, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and did as she had done several times. 2 days later and my son is still not healthy."
Barda noticed the man did not disclose what he did, so he decided against asking him. He would find out soon enough.
When Barda got to the house, he was let to where the boy was. Looking at him, Barda was shocked to see the boy was a teenager on the precipice of adulthood. He had expected a child.
Looking at the patient's wound, Barda determined that he must have been cut by something sharp, either a machete or a sword, definitely a weapon. This made Barda suspect this to be more than an accident.
Barda also noticed that someone had tried to burn the wound trying to clean the wound. However, Barda guessed that whoever did this did not even know why the wound was supposed to be burned in the first place.
Barda guessed this when he saw that the person who did this was hesitant, sparing the patient of pain. In doing so, they buried the infection underneath the burned skin, making the infection thrive around the area.
The wound was now swollen and oozing pus as the body was desperately trying to fight the infection, trying and failing. If this kept up, the boy would lose his leg.
Barda did not wait around, but went into the kitchen and took out a guard. He then went into the woods looking for supplies. He wanted a few maggots, some ether, certain roots, and leaves as well. Once he had everything he wanted, he got back to the man's house.
At the time, there was a small ruckus in the homestead as a few elderly men and women quarreled the burly man. They promptly went quiet when Barda got back. Seeing that he had an audience, he didn't shy away.
The last thing Barda wanted was to be associated with magic in this place. Having seen their reaction to him knowing a few things about leaves and herbs, he dreaded to think about what they would do if they knew he could use magic.
Barda went into the kitchen and watched the supplies. He took a kitchen knife and some clothes and went to the child. Knowing that this would cause some discomfort, Barda made sure to apply some ether to help with the pain.
He then took the knife and cut the infected area open. He needed to clean it completely. The boy was doing a good job maintaining quiet, although his face was contorted, showing just how much pain he was in.
Once he had cleaned the wound, Barda took out some maggots and placed them on the boy's leg, before covering it with some piece of cloth. Barda made the boy eat some roots that he knew would help boost his immune. After that, it was all on the boy.
After he was done, the boy even looked healthier. Of course, this was nothing but a placebo effect, but as long as it helped with the recovery process, Barda did not mind.
Everyone was curious about the status of the boy, was he cured? Barda instructed them to give him plenty of fluids, and that he would be back the following day. All this sounded so familiar, and he reminded them of old Marie.
She had been the village apothecary for more than five decades. Sadly, she had been captured by Nalu city and later on killed. All this was all hush-hush. The village was in dire need of an apothecary, and here came Barda.
Barda treated 7 other people. Curiously, they had all suffered 'accidents' but their wounds were clean-cut, evidence to show that a weapon was most likely used.
Since no one told him anything yet, Barda did not ask around. However, he suspected the source of secrecy had something to do with why he was here.
That evening, it was a happy moment in Latti's household. Barda noticed the looks of worry and guilt in Latti's and Lydia's eyes, but he chose to let things play out.
The following morning, the village woke up to a Loud horn. Latti explained to Barda that that was a call to gather at the village head's home.
When they got there, there were many villagers gathered, and more were streaming in. Many were casting Barda pitiful looks, which made him wonder what was wrong with what he was wearing.
On this day, there were 20 men in armor and swords and horses in the village head's home. Their body language was completely different from the villages, telling tales of privilege and a life of lording over others. They also had a hint of danger about them.
"It has come to my attention that someone is going around treating thieves of their injuries!" A weasel of a man spoke out once everyone was gathered. Out of everyone, he was the least threatening, and the moment he spoke, Barda understood why.
"I advise you to show yourself now before you get into any more trouble!" The weasel shouted, trying to exert his dominance.
"Come out, come out, whoever you are or I start slicing people up!" he continued. 'At least give someone a chance to react before escalating,' Barda thought as he stepped forward.
At the same time, everything was becoming clear to him. At first, he had suspected the burly man of being abusive to his son, but now he thought something different.
The wounded men must have been caught stealing something from these, and their punishment was to die of their injuries. Barda wondered if Marie's death, the previous village apothecary, had something to do with them.
More questions than answers ran through his mind, like why would the village protect thieves. Something else was going on here. Barda cast Litta a hard look, as he understood the guilt in his eyes the previous night.
Barda did not mind much. The men in front of him did not pose much of a threat. Moreover, he was in a hurry, the faster this trial ended the sooner he would go back. He had a war to win.
"I don't know what thieves you are talking about, but I did tend to a few patients yesterday," Barda said.
"A few patients, what are you, a physician, or some sort of healer?"
"No sir, I know some bit of apothecary,"
"A do-gooder. Did you know that these people were thieves when you tended to them?"
"No sir, the people I tended to told me they got their injuries from accidents," Barda replied.
"What is your name."
"Lincoln, sir."
"Lincoln, since you did not know of the wrong-doings of your 'patients,' I have decided to commute your sentence. You will not hang on a noose," The little pr*ck sounded disappointed. However, a sinister grin appeared in his eyes as he looked at Barda as though he was looking at prey.
"However, you still acted against the decrees of his Majesty, and are therefore sentenced to amputation. I shall take off those hands that you used to aid our enemies."
The moment he finished speaking, the burly man shouted, "Wait! Wait! Lord Bronson, I was the one who misled the man, take my hands instead. Let him be, his only crime was falling for my deception." Barda was touched, although this man did trick him, there weren't too many people Barda knew who could own up to their deeds in such a manner.
"Haha, I guess someone will swing for this after all. Guards, take him in custody. Also, take the healer. For his crime of falling for deception, his ears shall be removed at once!" Following the outburst, the Lord paused and said. He still had his loathsome grin, unwilling to let go of the prey in his sight.
Everyone was in an uproar, angry by the man's decision. There was no justice at all, and all he was doing was twisting the burly man's words. However, what could they do?
The guards were almost mechanical as they walked towards Barda and his advocate. The advocate rushed at them in an attempt to slow them down, but all he did was quicken his capture. Having grown up in this village all his life, he had no combat skills at all.
The guard that came at Barda had an indifferent look on his face as he reached for Barda and pulled him violently. However, Barda did not bulge, something that shocked him. Composing himself, he found his footing and with more leverage and effort this time, he tugged at Barda. Again no movement.