A medical emergency

[fadingworld]

A deep navy cloak hides his features and the more ornate tunic the courtesan usually wears to greet his clients. Mal hunches his shoulders and slides through the crowds hoping to avoid notice. He keeps his head down until he reaches the home of the doctor and wraps smartly on the door. "Open up," he calls in a voice that expects to be listened to.

How much time did he have? He could not have a client bleeding out. Not this one. Not one who had come to him for help, to be treated privately.

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[fadingworld]

There is a flicker of hope in Mal’s eyes but it’s quickly concealed. “What would you want in exchange for teaching me?” In his experience no jewel, no offer came without some strings attached. And there are lines he could not cross, confidences he will not break no matter how tempting the offer.

[mandragoraspiritus]

That is indeed a question with another moment of consideration. "Nothing, I should think. That is, nothing more than the satisfaction of perhaps managing to put some more good into the world." Unknown to Mal, or to anyone else in this city, the humble barber-surgeon has much to make up for.

[fadingworld]

The look that Mal gives Regis is highly sceptical. "Until you need something and you can call in a favour." He shakes his head, "No....I must be able to offer something in return to make it a proper contract."

He smiles wryly, "I sound like a jaded courtesan but I've learned by experience."

[mandragoraspiritus]

"If applying such reason, you do not think this would be cause for me to call in a favor is I were to come to need one?" He gestures to the unconscious man on the bed. "Though to be fair, I do expect my normal rate of payment for services rendered here."

He shakes his head slightly. "You do as you please. In the meantime, I could always lend you a book to get you started."

[fadingworld]

"And I expect to pay for these services with a little extra to keep you quiet." He smirks, "And if there are issues you will be dealing with the Duke." Mal doesn't say it as a threat just a statement of fact.

"A book would be delightful until we can come to sort of agreement." There are no books on display in the room but Mal gestures to a long draping on a wall. "I keep my books behind there."

[mandragoraspiritus]

Regis looks over to where Mal indicates. "Might have have a look what books you have?" It is simple curiosity, nothing more that that, of what a courtesan might have on hand to read.

[fadingworld]

"Go ahead," Mal says graciously. He is well read and there are a wide selection of topics. The nost thumbed though books are two on herbs, the history of the old ruling families.

"One or two of the books may make you blush."

[mandragoraspiritus]

Regis goes to brush the drapes aside, looking over the selection hidden there.

"Ah, yes," he chuckles as he spots one of the books that he thinks Mal could mean that could cause a blush; a collection of rather erotic poems. He actually knows it quite well. Taking it out the thumbs through the pages, but as if he's looking for something rather than just doing it at random.

Then having found what he was looking for he reads the poem out loud and what would you know, the grizzled-looking physician's voice actually lends itself quite well to reciting poetry.

[fadingworld]

Mal cocks his head on one side and listens with pleasure with his eyes half closed. Towards the end of the poem he lends his voice to eat, helping to bring to crescendo the sense of the two lovers' desires.

[mandragoraspiritus]

Of course courtesan would know these poems by heart, Regis thinks to himself, again chuckling lightly. "There are quite the few lovely works in this collection if my memory serves me right," he muses as he puts the book back in its place and then turning his attention to the herbologies, pulling those from their shelf.

"This one is rather good," he says, coming back over to his previous seat, and then with a small frown indicating the book in his right hand. "This one, however, I would not put much stock to. It has some inaccuracies that, under certain circumstances, could turn to be quite detrimental, or even outright dangerous."

[fadingworld]

"I would not mind hearing you recite a few more poems you enjoy when you return for the Duke," Mal owns. "You have a voice that would make many a courtesan envious."

He draws a knee up to his chin, watching Regis sort through the books. He looks disappointed that one of his books is of no use. "If I give you gold could you find me a more suitable replacement?" He smiles, "I could use it to correct this book with my own annotations."

[mandragoraspiritus]

He chuckles a bit at the praise. "I have often been told that I talk too much, and that I must love the sound of my own voice." He does have a love of words, this is true, and of teaching, of imparting the knowledge that he has gathered over several centuries.

"I will bring you one of my own when I next come," he promises, "and if you would let me bring this one with me I can make some notes to show where it fails. But for now, I think it is time for me to take my leave." He leans down to check the duke's pulse, as well as to lift his eyelids for a moment. All looks well. "If he rouses at all while I am gone - unlikely - give him some water if you can. Otherwise just let him sleep."

[fadingworld]

"That would be lovely," Mal says. There would be plenty of time to catch up on his reading over the next few days. He stands up and stretches out his limbs.

"When should I summon you for my first dehabilitating headache?" he inquires. It would allow Regis to come on legitimate business.

[mandragoraspiritus]

Regis purses his lips, considering. "The duke will need observing. In no more than three hours I would say, sooner if you see any sign that he is deteriorating; signs that his fever is rising, if his breathing becomes labored, such things."

[fadingworld]

Mal inclines his head. "Then it shall be done. The ice I called for, shall have been for ice packs for my neck should anyone trouble to enquire."

He glances to the Duke's cloak thoughtfully. Someone needed to wear it out. No, Regis would not do, Enzo would have to cover that one.

"I will keep a close eye on him, don't worry, I don't want a corpse on my hands."

[mandragoraspiritus]

"No, I would imagine not." It's quick work for Regis to pack up his few things and return them o his satchel. "Until later, then." With his hands again comfortably folded around the strap of his satchel he gives a slight bow and disappears out through the secret passage.

Upon his return home he prepares the few things he would need for his return, chooses a book for Mal to borrow just as he had promised, and then sits down to names his notes in Mal's book while he waits for the summons.

[fadingworld]

Mal busies himself when Regis leaves. He dims the lights and draws the blinds lower. Out of the line of sight of the door, he puts a bedroll out for himself and changes into old comfortable leggings and a shirt which he leaves half unbuttoned.

Two more visitors come through the secret passage. One leaves the same way and the other takes the Duke's cloak and strides out the main way wearing it. The deception for the moment appears complete.

Mal settles down by the Duke, reading quietly until two hours have passed. Then the theatrics begin, and half an hour later a messenger is sent to Regis detailing the headaches and tingling in the legs.

[mandragoraspiritus]

Not long after the summons has gone out, Regis returns to The Rose Thorn, this time escorted through the front door by a servant of the house, through the hallways to Mal's room. After he's been let in he waits until the servant has gone and the door has been closed. "So, then..? How is the neck?"

[fadingworld]

"Tense," Mal says, holding his neck very still, "It's hard to turn my neck one way or the other." He demonstrates, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Honestly, it's awful." And he sounds like a limp, pampered courtesan who dreads even the slightest malady.

[mandragoraspiritus]

"Well then, let us see what we can do to remedy the situation." Regis chuckles softly, smiling his close-lipped smile and of course doing to the duke's bedside rather than to Mal himself, bending down to see to his real patient.

"The fever stays steady, pupils are reactive, his pulse slightly elevated but that is to be expected. All within the realms of normalcy, all things considered. Has he woken any?"

[fadingworld]

"No there has been no change," Mal says keeping his voice low. "It has been very peaceful to watch over him." Mal brushes the Duke's hair back from his forehead.

He laughs, "The most exciting thing to happen is actually stiffening up by sitting in one position for too long."

[mandragoraspiritus]

Regis fetches some water, into witch he stirs a few drops of a cloudy fluid from a vial from his satchel. Then he gently props the duke up a bit to make him drink. The duke groans in protest but Regis does manage to get him to swallow before returning him to lay on the bed, the duke out like a light before his head even hits the pillow.

"Do you mean to tell me that our fabricated excuse are starting to become reality?" he asks, Mal as he finishes arranging the covers around teh unconscious duke.

[fadingworld]

Mal grins sheepishly, "Only on a minor scale. It's almost like I've wished it into reality." But it was nothing some mediating and stretching wouldn't sort later.

[mandragoraspiritus]

"Oh, I might as well earn my pay, I should say. It wouldn't do to leave just yet, it would be too soon." And so he goes to retrieve things from his satchel yet again. First the book he had promised Mal, and then a jar of ointment. Opening it produces a strong but not unpleasant herbal scent, dominated mostly by mint.

"Kindly sit straight and relax best you can." Having rubbed a dollop of the ointment into his palms, Regis goes behind Mal and lays his hands to the back of the man's neck. His fingers may be tipped by long and sharp nails, but there is not a hint of them as he with sure and firm motions works the tension out from stiff muscles.

[fadingworld]

It's easy to relax, Mal settles down and shakes his shoulders out to relax them. There is a soft moan as the tension starts to bleed away. "Your hands are very talented."