The woman shouted something into the hallway. The reaction was immediate. A man ran out of the house – clearly the woman's husband. It seemed this pleasant lady held absolute power here. Without a word of protest, the man carried the unconscious Kryspin into the apartment and laid him on the bed.
Kestor stood to one side and just watched. He didn't understand what was happening. He put his hands in his pants pockets and felt for something wrapped in a piece of cloth. The boy unwrapped it and, to his surprise, saw a piece of metal. It was an old arrowhead, rusty with blood. He had no idea how it had ended up in his pants!
He pondered the object's origins for a long moment. Suddenly, he remembered where he knew it from. Wandria had shown it to him once! And she had pointed it at Kryspin! It was the arrowhead that had been in his arm! Oh yes! How had he not made the connection before? But the question still remained: how had he gotten it? Had Wandria given him the arrowhead? I think so…
"He's in a bad way, dear boy," he heard above his ear. He lifted his head and saw the woman above him. She was smiling weakly.
"He's unlucky, ma'am... What hasn't he been through already...
" "Just call me Jasmin. And that man over there is my husband, Blik. He's a doctor, I'm a herbalist.
" "Is your husband a doctor? He probably has a lot of work with the sick, and I'm bothering you with Kryspin...
" "You're absolutely not bothering me, Kestor," Blik said. "My wife knows what she's doing, helping you. I support her in everything. "
Jasmin smiled radiantly and stroked her husband's cheek.
"But you must be tired and hungry, boy! Come on, I'll get you something to eat and make your bed.
" "But you don't have to!" Kestor shouted.
"You have to, you have to. I can hear your stomach growling..." Jasmin laughed.
The boy blushed and followed the woman obediently. Meanwhile, Blik was sitting next to Kryspin.
Jasmin sat the boy at the table and placed a plate of soup and two thick slices of bread in front of him. Kestora began to eat. A moment later, a group of children burst into the kitchen. Two boys and two girls. All very much like their parents. They sat down opposite the guest, propped their chins on their hands, and stared at the boy.
"Oh, my naughty little ones! They won't let you eat in peace. But that's because they're curious about you... They liked you. Both you and Kryspin."
Blik entered the room. Resigned, he sat down with everyone and thought intensely. Finally, he spoke:
"I have no idea what's wrong with this boy. He has a fever... Maybe you know something about it?" Kestora finally asked.
"Hmm... He's had a few accidents...
" "What accidents? Tell me about them..."
The boy settled back and began to tell... First, about how they'd found him injured on the road. About how he'd suddenly recovered. About how he'd almost drowned in the river, but somehow managed to survive...
"I suspect it's an infection caused by the wound on his hand... Did he tell you what he was going to do?" Blik asked after the finished, but incomplete, story. Kestor shook his head. "Infection and weakness from his swim in the river. He must have caught a cold...
" "Well, it's nothing serious?" the boy asked anxiously.
The man remained silent...
"Answer me!
" "Frankly, dear boy, I don't predict he'll live long... I've never seen a man in such terrible condition... And he's practically a child!
" Kestor wrung his hands and sobbed.
"No! He only saved himself from that river to die of stupid pneumonia?! You're a doctor! You have to save him! He can't!!!" He jumped up and slammed his fists on the table. All the plates rattled.
Blik sat sadly. Finally, he said,
"The only thing left is to pray to all the gods..."
Jasmin paced around the kitchen with a gloomy expression. She was preparing a drink—mixing herbs, smelling the resulting decoction, adding water... She smacked her lips with satisfaction and placed a full mug in front of Kestor.
"Drink this, boy. It will soothe your frayed nerves. It may not smell the most inviting, but I assure you, it will help..." She patted the boy's head and went out to make his bed.
Kestor sniffed the drink and immediately grimaced.
"Not a very inviting smell... That's an understatement," he remarked.
"Put your nose and drink it," Blik advised.
The boy sighed resignedly and poured the entire contents down his throat. He shuddered, but the drink pleasantly cooled his throat.
"When will it... start working...?" he asked sleepily.
"It already worked," Blik assured him.
Indeed, Kestor fell asleep at that very moment. His limp head fell back onto the tabletop. The man lifted him into his arms and carried him to the small room. Jasmin was already there. Blik put Kestor to bed, and the woman covered him with a blanket. The children stood in the doorway, watching their parents.
"Let's go, honey. Let him sleep," Blik said to his wife, smiling faintly.
"Daddy, why is that boy sleeping?" asked the doctor's youngest daughter, a girl named Rose.
"Because, little flower, he's very tired. He's traveled a long way with his sick companion," the man replied.
"Daddy?
" "Excuse me?
" "Can I sit next to him and watch him?"
Blik was surprised to hear the question, but before he could refuse, Jasmin said,
"But you can, little one. He'll have beautiful dreams with you, right?"
"Yes! Yes!" Rose clapped her hands and continued. "He'll have such beautiful dreams that he'll forget all the sadness that's weighing on him!"
She ran joyfully into the room and closed the door behind her. The other children watched their parents with bright smiles on their faces.
"Come on, children," Jasmin said finally. "I'll give you something to eat. Oh!" she cried, as her rays of light burst into the kitchen with a shriek. "Don't make such a racket! We have guests!"
But her little ones seemed oblivious. They pulled chairs up to the table and, shouting over each other, began to recount the day's events to their mother.
Blik wasn't there. He watched his wife leave and then returned to his study. He was thinking... He knew, no, rather, he sensed, that this boy, the same one lying feverish in his house, this same dying boy, had something important to do... But what...?
Jasmin sent her children to bed and entered the room where Kryspin lay. There were three more beds, but—thankfully—all were empty. A high fever consumed his body, his fists clenched and unclenched, and his whole body trembled in agony.
The woman placed her hand on the boy's forehead. It was hot. Very hot, even. Jasmin reached for a piece of cloth, dipped it in cold water, wrung it slightly, and cooled the boy's head.
She sighed heavily and sat down in the chair next to the bed. She watched over Kryspin, occasionally wetting his forehead. Without knowing when or how, she fell asleep...
Blik woke very early. The pale glow of dawn was barely visible outside. For some reason, he had been sleeping in an armchair. His neck ached and his legs felt numb. He stood up and stretched with a sigh. The candle on the table was almost extinguished. The man took it and, protecting the faint flame, left the room, heading straight for the bedroom.
"Why didn't Jasmin wake me when she went to bed? She could have! My, what a woman..." he muttered under his breath, opening the door, which creaked ominously.
To his great surprise, he didn't see his wife on the bed. The bed was in the same condition they'd left it in the previous morning—neatly made, every wrinkle smoothed.
He stood on the threshold and frowned. He headed for the kitchen. There was no one there either. He sighed again and went to the room where Kryspin slept to see how he was.
He was surprised to see Jasmin there. She was asleep in a chair, tightly clutching a piece of linen.
And in the bed, the feverish man was still there. He moaned and thrashed in the sheets, already damp with sweat. A heavy smell filled the room.
Blik gently placed his hand on his wife's shoulder. Jasmin jumped in fright.
"What? Ooo..." she asked in a sleepy voice. Her gaze fell on Kryspin. "He's not doing any better..." she croaked quietly.
Blik remained silent.
"Don't think about it, honey," he said finally.
"Me? I don't understand... Many people died here, people we couldn't help, but I feel... That... If this boy leaves... It will be the end. The end of something big... honey, we have to help him!
" "I know... But I don't know how. Nothing helps him!"
A girl quietly entered the room. But it wasn't Różyczka, but Blik and Jasmin's eldest daughter, Stokrotka.
"Mommy, daddy?" she said timidly. Her parents looked at her. "Why didn't Różyczka sleep in my room today? Where is she?
" "In the room where Kryspin sleeps. Don't you remember, honey? Yesterday she went to him to send him beautiful dreams and soothe his suffering..." Jasmin said in a solemn tone. But her voice held notes of joy and unspeakable pride, which always resonated whenever she looked at her children.
"Oh?" Daisy frowned, her face reflecting deeply. It looked almost comical on a seven-year-old girl.
"Oh?" She sighed again and lowered her hands. She smiled and said, "Let's go there, to her. Let's see how she sleeps...
" "An excellent idea!" Blik agreed. He took his daughter's hand and left the room. Jasmin followed them, quietly closing the door.
The door to the room opened with a soft creak of unoiled hinges. Three figures entered and stopped in surprise.
In the sparsely furnished room (with only a bed and an old chest of drawers), a boy slept. Despite the tiredness clearly visible on his face, he radiated peace and, one might even say, a delicate, shy joy.
Next to the boy lay a girl. About four years old, innocent and delicate as an angel. Golden curls arranged themselves in a shimmering fan next to the sleeping boy's dark mane. Rosebud was asleep and smiling gently. Her little hand rested on Kestora's head, as if sleep had overcome her while she was stroking his hair.
It was a truly moving sight.
Blik approached the bed and stroked his daughter's hair. He leaned down and lifted her. The little one opened her eyes and looked sleepily at her father. She opened her mouth and whispered,
"Daddy, I want to sleep some more. Why are you taking me away from Kestora? He's so sad... Daddy, let's help him, shall we?
" "Yes, honey, we'll try..." the doctor said, leaving the room.
"He was crying, Daddy, you know?" she said, trying to control the sleepiness that was creeping up on her. She kept closing and opening her eyes, continuing her story. "He was crying because so much bad had happened to him! He had such a sad life!" And when he finally fell asleep, it was so late that I myself lay down beside him and slept with him. You're not angry, are you, Daddy? I feel so sorry for him... I feel so sorry for him... she yawned as her father placed her on her bed.
"Sleep, my love?" Jasmin said, leaning over her and kissing her forehead.
"But Mommy, I have to give you something..." He had it in his hand. When he fell asleep, it fell to the floor. I picked it up. "What is this, Mommy? What's it for?" She pulled her hand out from under the covers and showed the herbalist its contents.
"Oh!" the woman said, turning the object this way and that. "Didn't he tell you what it was?
" Rosebud didn't answer. Her parents looked at her and noticed that the little one had fallen asleep. Blik smiled, and Jasmin wrapped the blanket around her tighter. They looked around the room of their four children. The boys were asleep, and Daisy watched the whole scene intently.
"Sleep, my daughter..." the doctor said with a smile, approaching her and kissing her forehead. Jasmin did the same.
"Sweet dreams..." she whispered, and looked lovingly at her firstborn. She stroked her blonde curls one more time and followed her husband out, quietly closing the door to the room.
Blik and Jasmin entered the bedroom. The man immediately began washing his face and hands in a clay bowl standing against one of the walls, while his wife, frowning, stared at the object her daughter had given her.
"Hmmm..." she muttered.
"What happened?" Blik asked, rubbing his face.
"I wonder... Why does Kestora need a rusty spearhead?
" "What?" the doctor asked, peering over Jasmin's shoulder. "Indeed. A spearhead. But..." the man took the object in his hand and examined it closely.
"It's not rust, honey..." he said after a moment.
"No? So what is it if not rust?" she asked in surprise.
"This? Crazy..." he muttered so quietly that Jasmin almost didn't hear him. "It looks like... blood!" I don't know how that arrowhead ended up in Kestora's hands, really... Why would he need a bloody arrowhead? Truly madness. Put that down and come on, let's lie down for a moment. We have time.
The woman suddenly jumped up. She laughed joyfully.
"What?" Blik asked, bewildered. "What are you laughing at?
" "Oh, honey!" she exclaimed loudly, then fell silent. "Do you really not understand?
" "What?
" "Well, that if this object comes from where I think it came from, then Kryspin will live!
" "No..." Blik said doubtfully.
"Yes! You can't even imagine the power hidden in such, let's call them, 'amulets'. Just like this arrowhead. If it's the remains of an arrow that lodged itself in Kryspin's arm, then... then... I'm sure we'll see our patient on his feet no later than the day after tomorrow... Give it to me!" She
took the arrowhead into her husband's hands and ran to the sickroom.
A faint light filtered in through the window, but it was already getting brighter. The room looked as if shrouded in white fog...
Kryspin lay on his back. Small beads of sweat were beading on his forehead, under his nose, on his chin, and all over his face. Jasmin approached him and sat on the edge of the bed. She took his hand and placed the spear in its center. She closed it gently. She reached for her other hand and folded both across her chest.
At that moment, a quiet sigh echoed through the room... as if of relief... Jasmin smiled, wiped the boy's face with a wet cloth, and then placed a kiss on his forehead...
She felt something as she left the room. She felt that something was missing from the atmosphere... And that something else had filled the empty space... Yet she didn't feel that anything bad had happened. On the contrary...
She stroked her husband's cheek as soon as she closed the door behind them. And he felt that his wife had accomplished something great. That she had found the final piece of the puzzle at the last moment. The piece that was most important.
Encouraged by her warm, hopeful gaze, he returned to bed, knowing that nothing bad could happen. That someone was watching over them, taking care of everything.
Brak komentarzy:
Prześlij komentarz